Hell Hath No Fury, page 5
8
Her heart longed to chase after her stolen Momo, but her legs could hardly seem to hold her up. Truthfully, the rest of her body felt the same way. Either the fight had left her unusually winded, or something was wrong. She pushed the thought aside. She just needed a short rest.
She looked around for someplace to hide while trying her best to avoid looking at the endless waterfall of cascading people. To her right, completely perpendicular to the path she knew she needed to take, she could see what looked like a cave. It was dark and still. Though it would be a good place to hide, she feared what creature might be lurking inside.
I’ll need a weapon. Something better than a rock.
She wiped away the tears of exhaustion that had begun to creep into her vision. The image of the beast’s loose tooth, long and sharp and dangling by a thread, swung into the front of her mind. She walked back to its corpse and pulled a loose fang from its razor lined jaw. The tooth was nearly the length of her forearm, and the edges were too sharp for her to hold. Delilah laid the tooth on the ground and slammed a rock down on it, near the root, chipping away at the razor’s edge. Once it was broken down into a rough, cylindrical shape, she picked up her newly forged dagger and jogged away from the falling bodies and the feasting beasts, toward the edge of darkness and the lowly cave that sat just beyond.
By the time she had reached the entrance of the cave, she began to worry she had made a mistake.
“None of this makes sense.” The words just fell out.
She could just make out the demon fleeing with her cat in the glow of the demonic skyline in the distance.
"It’s so fast. I’ll never catch up.”
She turned back toward the dark cave and walked in with the feeling that she had already been defeated. As if Momo was lost the second that demon took her through the portal. The weakness in her body mounted with each passing moment.
“What now?” Delilah asked aloud, her voice shaking and her sore throat. “Will I die here, too?”
She sobbed quietly. Her makeshift dagger lay at her side while she wrapped her arms around her knees and tucked her head down toward her chest. Among her whispered cries, she began to imagine that she was nowhere at all, nothing at all.
“You should have died a long time ago,” she spoke in a low and distant voice as her sobbing came to a rest.
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” a jovial, and genuinely curious, voice came jutting out of the darkness of the cave, followed by a light. “Did you do something bad? Silly me, of course you did. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here. Let’s hear it. I’m dying for a good story.”
Delilah jumped, kicking out her legs and bracing herself on the rocky floor of the cave, her right hand patting the ground frantically in search of her blade. Once she had it in hand, she waved it in front of her and slid up the warm wall, until she was standing on her feet, ready for a fight.
Sitting before her, beneath the flicker of freshly lit torches and on a mostly broken toilet surrounded by junk, was a yellow demon with red, pupilless eyes. It jumped to its feet along with her, its arms stretched out as if to calm her down.
“Oh-ho, whoa there, easy girl.” The demon was taller than Delilah, by three feet at least, and he stood on the hooved legs of a satyr. His horns were thick and short, jutting straight out to either side of his head, just above his ears, in a slightly asymmetrical manner. They looked as though they were an afterthought in a kid’s drawing. Aside from a belt covered in pouches and a tattered loin cloth, he wore nothing else. He smiled and jumped into a wide, defensive stance that caused his unshapely body to jiggle. He chuckled as he spoke. “Don’t shank me, bro.”
Delilah was stunned. The jagged rocks of the cave wall scraped into her back as she shimmied along them toward the exit. Her eyes darted from the demon to the junk and back again. The demon noticed and relaxed his stance. He tried to follow Delilah’s darting eyes.
“Like what you see, huh? Yeah, I think it’s a pretty sweet collection.” The demon pointed a finger at Delilah. “But I don’t have to tell you that, do I?”
She jumped at the demon’s sudden movements and threw her toothy dagger at him. It spun through the air and stuck him right in the neck. There, the two of them stood in silence, each trying to sort out what had just transpired. The demon looked at the knife in his neck as best he could then back at Delilah and smiled.
“Ow,” he laughed and pulled the knife out of his neck. “That wasn’t necessary. I’m really just a big ole softy, once you get to know me.”
He turned the dagger in his hand and held it handle side out for Delilah to take. She was hesitant. He waved it up and down. “Here, this is yours. You should hold onto it. Hell is not going to be fun for you. Having a weapon might help, for a little while at least.”
“So, this is Hell,” Delilah finally managed to say as she timidly reached for the dagger and quickly yanked it from the demon’s hand.
“Woah,” the demon shot back, fanning his fingers before giving them a quick suck and close inspection. “Take it easy. Those teeth are sharp. You know, I’ve had one of those beasts of burden attack me before. Usually they don’t go after demons, but I guess I’m just built different.”
The demon smiled, slapped his belly, then struck a heroic pose. When he relaxed again, he watched Delilah with eagerness, as if he was waiting for her to say something.
“Beast of burden? Is that what those were?”
The demon’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, they feed off all the bad things people got brewing inside of themselves. They dig all up in there, make a nice little house, then suck the nasty out of anyone else that comes near them. I’m not the biggest fan of Hell, but you gotta admire the design on those things.”
Delilah could do little else but stand there, dumbfounded. She wasn’t sure if she was just too exhausted to feel much else, or if this was all just too surreal for her to process, but here she was. The demon filled the silence.
“Sorry, this is probably all super weird. I’m Larry.” He press his hand against his chest. “And you are?”
“I’m…Delilah,” the sounds came tumbling out.
“Delilah, nice to meet you. I—"
“Wait.” Delilah finally snapped out of it, cutting Larry off. “Aren’t you supposed to torture me?”
“Um, that’s not really my thing, but if that’s something you’re into, I can give it my best.”
“What kind of demon doesn’t torture?”
“The kind with two thumbs.” Larry awkwardly jutted his own thumbs at himself and grinned at Delilah like a child waiting for approval. Delilah just stared at him with the same expression of disbelief. He finally dropped his hands. “Did I not do that joke right? I don’t know everything about human culture, but I’ve been learning. I’m a huge fan. If I could, I’d love to be one. It just seems more fun. I mean, look at all this cool shtuuuff.”
Larry waved his hands back at his collection of junk. Delilah scanned the items that littered the cave, and for the most part was unimpressed. It looked like stuff you would find in a dumpster. Old novelties and knickknacks meant for single use. A couple of plastic bottles, a beer helmet, a bent fork displayed in a frame, some tires, and even an old rotary phone from who knew when.
Among the junk were a few older items, like metal cups, clay pots, and some beat up statues, but they all seemed to span a large portion of human history. She wasn’t sure what to say next, but she thought perhaps this demon, Larry, could help her. He seemed to want to help.
“Yeah, it’s something.” She tried her best to sound interested before changing the subject. “Hey, do you think you could help me find my cat?”
Larry looked confused now as he stood there in thought. After a few seconds, he nodded and smiled. “Okay, so, you probably don’t get it, but you’ve died.” He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. “So your cat is probably up there somewhere eating your body, at least until someone finds it. I mean, you can hang out with me if you want, or go on toward the Necropolis and get started with your torture. Spoiler, the Dark Lord is just going to eat your soul at some point.”
Larry turned and sat back down on his toilet, kicking his feet up once again. Delilah didn’t know what to say. She was speechless.
Am I dead? she wondered. And if so, is Momo okay?
As Delilah stood at the mouth of the cave, looking back and forth between the demon named Larry, the distant city she now knew as the Necropolis, and the place from which she’d come, where bodies still fell like a heavy rain, she began to feel the weakness in her body growing. She knew she wasn’t dead, but how could she prove it?
“I’m not dea—" Delilah’s opening argument was cut short by a hard cough. The taste of blood filled her mouth, and she ran her fingers over her lips to confirm. She could even feel it trickle down her chin.
“Holy crap.” Larry jumped to his feet. “You’re not dead.”
Delilah spit the blood out of her mouth. “That’s what I was trying to tell you. I chased a demon here. It stole my cat. I want her back.”
“Wait, the cat or the demon?”
Delilah glared at Larry until the gears in his brain appeared to shift and he finally understood.
“Right, the cat. Of course. Well, we might want to hurry then.”
“Yes, please, I’d like to get out of here.”
“Well, of course, but that’s isn’t why.” Larry looked around as if searching for the best way to explain it. “Um, basically, you absolutely will die if you stay here. Living things aren’t meant to be here. You’re probably already dying on the inside, hence the blood.”
“Are you serious? How much time do I have?”
“Oh, fuck if I know. Time is a funny thing when you think about—"
Delilah stepped up close to Larry, causing him to stand tall and shut his mouth. He wore a nervous expression.
“How much time, Larry?” His name forced through gritted teeth with mounting frustration.
“I honestly couldn’t say. Time moves differently here, and it wears on the soul. You may not age, but your soul will, and it’ll tear your insides apart as it does.”
Delilah huffed and turned her back. She stomped to the mouth of the cave and stared out at the city that seemed impossibly far. She felt hope slipping away with each passing second.
“But,” Larry added, slowly approaching her, “I’d love to help you find your cat. I’ve always wanted to hang out with a living human, even if you are dying. I’ve been around for a long time now, longer than most, so I’m pretty sure I can get you to the Necropolis in no time.”
Delilah turned to him, “Are you serious? How can I trust a demon? How do I know you aren’t going to kill me the moment my back is turned?”
Larry shook his head, in an overexaggerated expression of disbelief. “I was literally just standing right behind your turned back two seconds ago. Give or take. Time is a funny thing.”
9
Gabby felt good stretching while she waited for her afternoon class to arrive. All this time working for Delilah, and Gabby had never seen her take a day off. It was one of the many things Gabby admired about her. She was just so damned strong. That was also one of the things that made a relationship with her difficult at times.
“Do you think Delilah is actually relaxing, or is she out for a jog, worrying about this place?” Devin wondered aloud as he crumpled up the wrapper of the protein bar he’d just finished eating. “I bet she’s having a hell of a time trying to sit still.”
“Yeah,” Gabby responded from the blue mat on the floor, stretching out her legs in a V shape. “Knowing Deliliah, I bet she’s asking Momo if she should come back in, just to check on things.”
Devin laughed through his nose and threw his crumpled wrapper into the trash. Gabby was folded nearly in half, with her head resting on her right knee, watching him absently as she thought about Delilah. With those thoughts came again the ever growing, and always avoided, knowledge that Delilah seemed intent on keeping her at a safe distance.
Here was this woman, who trusted Gabby with her cat, her business, and even her Jeep on occasion, yet she still wasn’t ever invited to stay the night, nor had Delilah accepted an invite to stay with her. It was a growing blemish in an otherwise wonderful relationship. It was the only thing they argued about and would be the very subject of the inevitable fight that awaited her at the end of the day.
Gabby didn’t want to fight with Delilah, at least not outside a friendly spar on the mats, but she supposed every great relationship came with its fair share of great fights. She let out a sigh and tried to put it out of her mind. She didn’t like to think about it. When she finished her stretching, she stood up and glanced at the clock on the wall.
“Oh, looks like people are going to start showing up here soon,” she called out to Devin, turning around to face him. “Are you all stretched up?”
Devin froze, and for a moment Gabby thought he looked like a little boy. A little boy who’d just been caught taking cookies from the cookie jar.
“I’ll take that as a no?”
“Yeah, that’s a no.”
“Well, I think you should. You know how tough some of these ladies can get.”
“Yeah,” Devin waved it off, “I know. I think I’ll be okay. I know what I’m doing.”
Gabby didn’t like the dismissive attitude, especially now that she was in charge, but she let it slide. She knew he was being playful, and besides, she wasn’t the boss, not really.
“Well, it’s your funeral.” She walked past Devin and slapped her hand on top of his shoulder, then narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice. “Just don’t except any sympathy from me if you get hurt. Comprende?”
She gave him a wink and walked past him. He turned to face her as she walked away. “You got it…boss lady.”
Gabby responded while walking backwards. “Now, that’s what I like to hear.” She turned back around and continued walking with a cheeky grin.
“Wait, where you going? Class is going to start in like fifteen minutes.”
She rounded the corner of the small wall that led to the back office and the bathrooms. “Gotta drain the lizard. Lady stuff, you wouldn’t understand.”
“Ha,” Devin let out as Gabby entered the bathroom.
She had the distinct feeling that the moment she sat down, the front door would swing open. She was right.
“Ugh, heavy is the head that wears the crown I guess,” she mumbled to the small bathroom. “As long as everything goes smoothly, I think we’ll be just fine.”
Gabby finished and washed her hands. She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror and gave herself a smile and a nod.
“You can do this, Gabriella.”
She walked out of the short hall and back into view of the room. Devin waved at her, and she waved back. A third student had arrived, but Gaby wasn’t ready. She needed to calm down.
“Devin,” she called out. Everyone turned to face her. “I’m going to the office for a minute. A couple of things I need to take care of. Let me know when everyone’s arrived?”
“Yeah, of course,” Devin was quick to answer.
“Wait,” Vanessa Coleman, a tiny, middle-aged woman, and a regular in these classes, spoke up, “Where’s Delilah?”
“She took the day,” Gabby answered with a smile. “I’ll be leading the class today.”
“Oh, great.” Vanessa sounded genuinely happy, then laughed as she flexed her arms and joked, “Hope you can handle all this on your own!”
“I love the fighting spirit.” Vanessa’s excitement only served to further build up Gabby’s. “Be with you in a minute. Get ready for a workout!”
Gabby let herself into the office and shut the door behind her. She leaned with her back against the door and let out a controlled sigh before walking around the desk and taking a seat in Delilah’s chair.
“Alright, we’re just going to sit here and wait for Devin to tell us when everyone is ready.” She leaned back and closed her eyes, rubbing the tops of her thighs again. “Just chill out, and be cool.”
As if the world knew exactly what she was going through, she could hear the muffled patter of rain begin to fall on the roof. She loved the rain, more than anything, and imagined herself sitting out in it. The cool waters falling all around her, a warm coffee in her hand. Sitting on the balcony of her apartment, or better yet, Delilah’s front porch. The thought brought a smile to her face, then another brought a giggle.
She remembered meeting Delilah, soaking wet in the parking lot of this very studio. Cursing at the rain as she struggled to snap the roof back on her Jeep and smiling at her as she offered up an umbrella to share. The way the light glimmered through the water as it ran over the rich, darkness of her soft skin, and the embarrassed smile of someone realizing how foolish it was to leave her house without an umbrella. A mistake only a transplant could make on even a slightly cloudy day.
“Where you from?”
That was the first thing she’d said to Delilah. Gabby laughed again at the memory of Delilah asking what had made her think she wasn’t from there. She explained to Delilah all the tell-tale signs. The moment she had helped Delilah put the top back on her Jeep was the moment their lives had come together, under the gentle afternoon rain and the cool gray sky.
As quickly as that moment had come and gone, the moments that followed had seemed to move even quicker. They snuck up and raced past, like a good day done. Before you knew it, the cool night sky came falling in around you and you found yourself wrapped up in your softest PJ’s, curled up on the sofa—fat and happy—wishing that the day could have lasted forever. Hoping the next would be just as wonderful.
Thoughts of her first lesson came tumbling in. She’d only taken the classes to get close to Delilah, to get to know Delilah, and to make sure Delilah saw her. It had worked.
Gabby felt calmer, her mind and body slowed to a comforting crawl as she breathed in the air of the back office that still smelled of Delilah’s lavender body lotion. It was a smell she had come to know well over the months that had led up to their first kiss. The day she applied to teach classes, even though they had been dating by then, Delilah had still made her earn it. A demonstration that she’d learned enough to be a capable teacher. They had gone over attacks and counters, all which Gabby had memorized from months of Delilah’s expert teaching. An exercise that had ended with Gabby, a thin, five-foot-nothing woman, taking Delilah, a trained expert with six inches and thirty pounds on her, hard onto the mat in one swift motion. A victory celebrated with a formal job offer and a sweet, passionate kiss. The smell of their sweat had filled the small studio, and in it swirled lavender.
