Nephilim Rising: The Complete Series, page 49
part #0 of Nephilim Rising Series
“But you saved me.”
“Yes.” He paused, unsure of what to say. “A moment of weakness. It won’t happen again.”
I shook my head. “Lucky for me then.”
“Very lucky. Let’s go.”
Edward marched forward away from the cave and out into the desert as I walked beside him. Even though he was quite tall at over six feet, I was taller in my demon body, so I was able to keep up with his long strides. "So where are we headed?"
“To Pandemonium of course.”
“Yes, I know, but where do we have to go to get there? How far is it?”
“By your standards, a few days walk.”
I nodded, remembering that Edward had spent most of his time down just wandering around. A few days of walking was probably nothing to him. In fact, I doubted he even counted the days or weeks anymore. What use was time in a place like Hell? “How dangerous is this journey going to be?”
“You ask a lot of questions, not all of them smart.” He strode on in silence for a minute before answering me properly. “It will take us a while to get across this desert. Then we’ll come to the Screaming River and the trading docks there, at which point we have to get on a boat, travel up the river and hopefully arrive on the outskirts of Pandemonium.”
“Hopefully?”
"It's difficult to get a boat at the docks unless you're a slave or a trader. Even when you do get on one, you may not make it off again. The ship workers are a rough bunch. I'd suggest you find some garments to cover yourself. The ship workers will find you quite delectable no doubt, which means they will rape you and eat you after they've finished."
“Jesus, you’re kidding, right?”
He shot me a look of exasperation. “Really? Are you so blind to the lay of the land here, to how things work? It’s dog eat dog in the worst way possible. No one cares about anyone else, only themselves. It comes down to survival of the fittest and who is the most selfish and uncaring, which happens to be most people here.”
“Fine. Any ideas about where to get these garments from?”
“Yes. You mug whoever you come across and steal whatever they have. Like I said, it’s dog eat dog. In fact, there.” He stopped and pointed to one of the damned souls who was staggering around about twenty feet in front of us. “That one still has garments on by the looks of it.”
I stopped as well, and peered into the distance at the zombie-like person ahead. In the red twilight, I could see it was a large man wearing jeans and a long dark overcoat. “I don’t get why they still have clothes from their time on Earth?”
"Their souls are resurrected from their last moments on Earth. Obviously, that one was fully dressed before he died. Lucky for you, I'd say. Let's go." Edward walked in the direction of the man in the overcoat. As we drew closer, I could see that he had a machete in his hand, and was busy hacking at himself in a strangely robotic way. "Before you ask, they can't help harming themselves. It's their punishment to do so for eternity."
I began to wonder what this man had done in his life to deserve the kind of afterlife he was currently living. Whatever it was, it must have been bad. When we got to within a few feet of him, I saw up close the extent of the harm he had done to himself. There were big gashes all over him where the blade of the machete had cut in. He looked middle-aged, though it was hard to tell as he was covered in so much blood. He turned when he saw us. "Please…" he moaned before sticking the machete into his own forehead, and then pulling it out again, causing blood to arc everywhere and splash onto the dry earth. "I can't stop… why can't I stop..?" Just to emphasize his point he buried the machete into his leg, nearly cutting it in half above the knee, causing him to topple over where he lay as he continued to plead for our help. It was one of the most pathetic things I'd ever seen, and also one of the most disturbing. Edward didn't seem bothered by it at all, though. In fact, he pulled a long blade from a sheath on his back and casually used it to chop the man's head off. I felt like asking him if that was necessary, but I knew what he would say: that it was dog eat dog and the guy was fucked anyway. After decapitating the man, he sheathed his blade and removed the overcoat from the corpse, and then tossed it to me. "That should cover most of you."
I caught the bloodstained overcoat and held it out before me for a moment, unsure if I even wanted to wear it, given who its previous owner was and what we had to do to get it. Reluctantly, though, I put the coat on, which turned out to be a fairly decent fit, and covered me to just past my upper thighs. “Looking good,” Edward said. “Now lets go, we have a lot of traveling ahead of us. I want out of this desert soon.”
“Why?”
“Marauders roam these parts. Gangs of what can only be described as mutants and other despicable creatures, who kill and eat whatever is in their path. I don’t want to be bumping into any of them, thank you very much.”
It seemed with every minute I spent in Hell, the place just got worse. With every new detail I learned and every new experience I went through, it was leaving a stain on my psyche. Even if I did manage to escape the place, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever recover.
“Take the machete as well,” Edward said. “You’ll likely need it at some point.”
I went to the headless corpse and picked up the machete from the ground, the whole blade still dripping with the man's blood. I wiped the blade on the leg of his jeans and put the machete inside my new black leather overcoat. As I was about to walk away, I heard a moan from behind me, and I turned around to see the man's disembodied head sitting there blinking at me. "Don't leave…" the head said. "Kill me, please…"
"Kill you?" Aside from the fact that I was talking to a severed head, what disturbed me was the fact that it had asked me to kill it. Was it joking? If it wasn't the definition of killed already, then I don't know what was.
“Leave it,” Edward said from a few feet away. “He’ll regenerate soon enough, and start the whole cycle all over again with a new torture tool. I’d stick around just so you could see, but we have to get moving.”
I turned away from the severed head. “Sorry dude…"
24
After hours of monotonous walking, Edward stopped and pointed toward some distant mountain region. I looked and saw huge jagged rocks sticking up out of the ground, some of which were as high as any skyscraper back home. “They don’t even look natural,” I said.
“Nothing in Hell is natural,” Edward said as he drank more of that devil juice from his flask. He seemed fond of the stuff. I declined when he offered me some. “Everything you see down here has been meticulously designed, much of it by your former nemesis, Abigor.”
"Hell's Architect." I nodded. "He did a good job, I’ll give him that."
“Too good, I’d say. You can’t see from here, but each of those rocks is covered in long stone spikes that are just perfect for impaling damned souls on. You will see quite a lot of them when we reach the pathway running through it.”
“The sky seems darker over there.”
“It is. It's dark all the time in the Canyon of the Impaled. It adds to the misery for those unfortunate souls that are stuck there.”
“Well, I look forward to making their acquaintance.”
Edward gave me a queer look. “Sometimes I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.”
“Sarcasm. They didn’t have that in your time on Earth?”
“Oh, they did indeed, just not quite as dry as you seem to make it.”
I smiled, probably for the first time since I arrived in Hell. “Come on, let’s go.”
Edward did most of the talking as we traipsed across the desert, regaling me with tales of his time as a Watcher back on Earth, telling me all about how he caught Jack the Ripper and Mr. Hyde, both of whom were just demons on the rampage. At the mention of demons, he turned to me. “Tell me about your demon body,” he said as we headed toward the Canyon of the Impaled. “I find it very strange that a Nephilim, someone who is half angel, could transform like that into a demon of all things. I didn’t think that was possible, nor have I heard of anyone who has done it.”
“Drinking demon blood will turn you into a demon,” I said. “Although normally you retain your human form. I’m still not sure what happened to me. The blood I drank seemed to change my DNA.”
“Your what?”
“Sorry, forgot you are from a different time. I take it you don’t get any news down here?”
“Was that sarcasm again or do you really want to know?”
I just looked at him.
“Of course, yes. No news, I’m afraid, just cursed isolation. So what is this DNA you speak of?”
“It’s kind of like the building blocks of the body. It holds all the information needed to form a fully functioning human, or in our case, Nephilim being. When I drank the demon blood mine must have changed, allowing me to transform into this glorious beast you see before you.”
“And you have full control of that body?”
I didn’t mention Demon Leia. "I’m working on it."
Edward nodded. “Do you really think you can kill the King and make it out of here then?”
“I have to believe it.”
He nodded. “I admire your faith and determination, even if it does turn out to be misplaced.”
"Let's hope it isn't."
We were getting close to the Canyon of the Impaled, and my attention was taken by the sounds of screams in the distance; a sound that brought me right back to when I was on the Leviathan. I had to stop for a minute. "Are you all right?" Edward asked.
“Fine,” I said as I waited for the flashbacks to pass. “The screams in the distance…”
“The sound of Hell’s chorus, yes.”
“Not exactly pleasing to the ear.”
“I think that’s the point.”
We started walking again, as I did my best to ignore the screams and moans carried by the increasingly high winds that blew across from the canyon. The bodies impaled on the stone spikes transformed the rocks into colossal torture racks. I had to stop again when I saw the writhing bodies spiked all over the rocks. Each person was impaled through the chest, and every single one of them was very much awake and alive as they moaned and screamed over their predicament. I was about to ask Edward why they didn't just slide themselves off the spikes, when I realized that every single spike was barbed, preventing the people from sliding forward. That didn't stop some of them from trying, though, which is where the screams came from. They were ripping themselves to pieces with the barbs. Those who had resigned themselves to their fate just hung there limply in abject pain and misery. I was speechless as I took it all in.
“Not nice, I know,” Edward said. “But we must pass through the rocks to get to the shipping docks. There is no way around, I’m afraid. There isn’t much danger involved. Just ignore the souls on the rocks.” He didn’t seem too concerned about having to walk through the canyon, past so much horror.
“How many times have you passed through here?”
"A few. Just follow me, and you'll be fine. Try not to look at anyone. They have a way of drawing you into their pain and misery. It can get overwhelming. You can go mad. Don't look at them."
“I’ll try not to,” I said, although I knew that was going to be an impossible task.
Edward led the way as we entered into the canyon. The noise was cacophonous: endless screaming and groaning that echoed off the rock and into my ears, penetrating my brain, making it hard to think straight. Once again, flashbacks of the torture ship came to me, and that made it more difficult to move forward. The only thing I felt like doing was curling up into a ball on the ground and covering my ears against the ceaseless, awful screaming and moaning.
"Keep moving!" Edward shouted when he noticed me slowing. "It's not that far to the other side. Keep going!"
I trudged on, my head down as I tried to resist the temptation to look into the eyes of the people impaled all over the rocks either side of us. As we trudged through the muddy ground, the wind picked up, blowing strongly down the canyon, whistling and carrying the sounds of screams even further. Then it started raining, not heavily, but a fine rain that soaked me in no time and never let up as it pelted my face, making the journey even more difficult and laborious. Edward had his hood up, covering most of his face. Anytime I lagged behind, he grabbed my arm and pulled me forward. If he hadn't been there, I would surely have stopped, overwhelmed by what was surrounding me. A person could lose their mind very quickly in a place like that.
At one point I recognized a squawking sound and looked up to see the two-headed vultures circling over the canyon, scores of them, swooping down to land on the stone spikes, where they hopped along until they got close to the unfortunate soul impaled there. They then proceeded to peck away at the person's flesh, ripping off large chunks, swallowing them whole. I soon saw that a good many of the stone spikes held perching vultures. Some even had the human-headed rats scurrying back and forth, hopping from one spike to the next, gnawing on flesh as they went.
It was only a matter of time before I began to focus on the people themselves; the wretched souls impaled all over the mountain. Within seconds of doing so, I wished I hadn’t. They were the sorriest looking bunch I had ever seen: trapped there, impaled on a mountainside, easy prey for whatever scavenger came along. I never knew what real misery looked like until I looked into the eyes of some of those people. Everything about them screamed that they had given up. Whatever light they had in their souls was gone, replaced by eternal darkness and misery. And that’s just the ones who had eyes. Many of the people had their eyes pecked out by the vultures, or chewed out by the rats, leaving hollow, empty sockets that still seemed to look into you, to beam out the darkness they were trapped in. Many of the impaled were rotting away, like decaying fruit on a tree, bits of flesh hanging off them, entire limbs dropped off in some cases. What was even worse was the fact that I knew none of these people would die. Whatever wounds they had would heal over time, limbs would grow back; holes in the flesh would seal over if given a chance; nerves would regenerate so the people would carry on experiencing their pain and misery indefinitely. There was no escape for these souls, none at all.
"Leia!" It was Edward, about ten feet in front of me. Without realizing, I had slowed to a stop, mesmerized by the horror that surrounded me on every side. It was like I was in a dream state, unable to tear my eyes away from what I was seeing. I blinked, shaking myself loose from the trance and started moving forward again, dropping my gaze to the ground. When I reached Edward, he grabbed my arm and pulled me along, making sure this time that I wouldn't lag behind. I allowed him to lead me that way for what seemed a long time, to the point where I thought we were never going to make it through the canyon, until he stopped and pointed. I looked up and saw the end of the rocks about half a mile ahead. I had never been so glad to see anything in all my life. Through the wind and rain, we picked up the pace, anxious to get out of this Hell within Hell as soon as possible. Then about a quarter of a mile away from the exit, I stopped because I heard something; something that made my blood chill. "Why are you stopping?" Edward asked agitatedly. "We're nearly through!"
I stood stock-still and listened, trying to filter out the screams and moans and the sound of the wind, which wasn’t easy, but then I heard it again. It was unmistakable this time.
Someone was calling my name.
“Did you hear that?” I asked Edward as I looked around at all the impaled souls.
"Hear what?" He was looking at me as if the canyon had gotten to me and twisted my mind. I still wasn't sure if that was the case, until I heard my name being called again in a high-pitched voice like a child's.
It was Alice. I was sure of it.
I kept looking around at the hundreds of bodies impaled on the rock-face, unsure of where the voice was coming from thanks to the wind and the already present chorus of pain and suffering in the air. “What are you doing?” Edward asked as he tried to pull me along.
“She’s here, I heard her call my name…” I said frantically, the winds picking up around us, the rain getting heavier.
“Who’s here?”
“Alice!”
“There is no Alice here. Let’s go!”
I dismissed his attempts to pull me along and ran to the left rock-face, where I thought Alice's voice had come from, and began to scan all the writhing bodies. Nearly everyone on the rock-face was a full-grown adult, so if Alice was there, she should have stood out, as small as she was. My stomach was sickened at the thought of her being impaled on one of those thick stone spikes. I couldn't imagine the pain and suffering she must be going through. My eyes met dozens of the impaled, and all of them increased their pleas and moans when I caught their eye, begging for me to help them.
Edward was behind me. “There is no girl here!” he said, his voice raised against the wind and rain.
"She's here, I know she is…I can feel it!"
He stomped around for a moment, wanting to move on, annoyed at what he saw as strange behavior on my part. “Okay, I’ll help you look, but if she isn’t here, we go, all right?”
I nodded. “Fine.”
Edward went to the right rock face and started to look for Alice, even though he had never laid eyes on the girl before. As far as he was concerned, he was just looking for a random little girl in Hell…or a figment of my imagination. The latter probably inspired greater belief in him.
“Leiaaaaaa!”
I snapped my head around when I heard Alice call out again. It was definitely her, and it was definitely my name she was calling. I walked along the canyon in the direction I thought the voice had come from.
And then I saw her. "Alice," I whispered, heartbroken by the sight of the little girl impaled about fifteen feet up on the rock face, her hands holding onto the stone spike that pierced her small body. "Hold on Alice! Edward!"
Edward came running over and looked up at Alice on the rock face, a man and a woman either side of her, both of them screaming for us to help them get down. “We’ll never get her off there, not with those barbs.”
