Nephilim Rising: The Complete Series, page 73
part #0 of Nephilim Rising Series
The crowd cheered. Unbelievable, I thought. The captives are cheering their captor.
“When they go against me, the King of Hell!” Eblis shouted, obviously reveling in this chance to connect with his subjects properly for a change.
The crowd cheered again, raising their fists. Some of them even turned to give me stinking looks, before looking back to their King again.
“That wretched thing you see there on that platform is none other than my own daughter,” Eblis said, pointing down at me, eliciting a collective gasp from the crowd, who all turned to stare at me again, curiosity in their eyes now, turning the whole spectacle into an even bigger freak show than it already was.
“Yes!” Eblis went on. “A traitor is a traitor, and she will suffer accordingly!”
A massively loud cheer erupted, and the hate returned to the faces in the crowd. “Hang the wretched bitch!” the crowd started chanting. “Hang the wretched bitch! Hang the wretched bitch...”
My terror returned. To control it, I tried to focus on my mother up on the platform. She was looking down at me, but she was too far away for me to tell what her expression was. Probably stone-faced as always, but underneath...I could only imagine. She was watching the demise of her daughter. I liked to think all her previous suffering paled in comparison. I would never know, however.
My executioner pushed me right to the edge of the platform, while the crowd waited hungrily below. I kept my eyes on my mother, afraid to look anywhere else, because I knew if I did, the terror would hit again, and it would be tremendous. Plenty of time for that when I was left hanging with a broken neck, and the crowd began to tear me to pieces.
If I could still urinate, I would have pissed myself. Shat myself too. But Eblis had taken away even that base human response to fear.
I waited for the inevitable push that would send me sailing off the edge of the platform to hurtle down to the hungry crowd below.
But it never came.
What came instead was a massive explosion in the building next to the Ministry of Suffering. The entire building exploded in a burst of red stone, cutting a significant part of the crowd in Damned Square to pieces.
Then, before the dust had even settled, there was another explosion, this one smaller and right in the center of the crowd, but big enough to send body parts flying everywhere, and to scatter whatever crowd was left standing at that point.
What the hell is going on?
Everybody there was probably thinking the same thing. Clearly, explosions were not part of the planned festivities.
There was dust everywhere, making it hard to even see anymore. The Hellions that made up the crowd lay mostly in pieces. The ones still able to, ran away. It was chaos, and for a moment I forgot I was standing on the edge of a high platform with a rope around my neck, and I misplaced my foot by an inch. It was enough for me to lose balance and go pitching forward however, completely powerless to stop myself.
But I did stop. Somehow I stopped in mid-air, and for a second I hung there wondering how I had managed such a feat.
Then I realized that I didn't. There was actually an arm wrapped around my torso, and whoever the arm belonged to, it lifted me back onto the platform and proceeded to remove the noose from around my neck.
Thinking it was just one of the guards trying to get me to safety so they could hang me another time, I turned around and looked.
And couldn’t believe it.
“Edward?” I said.
“You look like hell,” Edward said. “Let’s get you out of here.”
29
If Jesus himself had have been standing there with me on that platform, I couldn’t have been any more surprised. Edward was the very last soul in Hell I expected to come to my rescue, given that the son of a bitch had betrayed me on Captain Kronos’ ship. He still looked the same, with his long brown hair and bushy beard. Despite still being pissed at him, I sank forward into him. He held me up with one arm, while he shot a Hellwrathian guard who was charging toward us on the platform. “If I wasn’t so weak,” I said, my head against his chest. “I would break your jaw.”
“I get it,” Edward said, firing more shots from the gun he had obviously stolen from one of the guards. “I see you are still pissed at me. That’s all right. We can talk about that later.” He fired another three shots. “First we need to get out of here.”
“I don’t think I can run, let alone walk.”
“I’ll carry you then.”
Before I could say anything, Edward had me lifted up and draped over his shoulder. Then he turned and ran as fast as he was able across the platform and down the steps to the cobbles of Damned Square. I was too weak to even lift my head up to see what was going on, but I heard enough to know the place was in chaos. Loud gunshots, some close, some far away, resonated through me. Screams and shouting pierced my ears. The sound of burning buildings and the acrid smell of smoke. Then Edward talking to someone close by. “I have her,” he said. “Let’s move!”
Obviously, he had help arranging my rescue, though I was less curious about that than with why he would rescue me in the first place. He all but handed me into the authorities, after all. And to stage a daring rescue right in the center of Pandemonium, that was going above and beyond. Edward wasn't the type to be wracked by guilt, so why was he doing this?
That would have to wait, though, until Edward brought me to wherever he was bringing me. Only half conscious, I bounced like a dead weight on his shoulder, as he ran away from Damned Square and up one of the side streets. Others were with him, shooting at guards and pushing Hellions out of the way to clear a path to wherever we were going. "Up there!" one of them shouted, and Edward broke right, taking us up another street.
“Open the portal!” Edward shouted.
What portal? I wondered as I was laid down on the cobbled ground.
Edward stared down at me. “You were lucky,” he said. “You almost hanged.”
“What...is this?” I asked him, barely able to speak. My body had given up, my mind not far behind it.
“Your rescue party, courtesy of your friend, Mullin.”
“Mullin...” He arranged to have me rescued? I was surprised because I didn’t think Mullin cared what happened to me. Or maybe he still thought I was his best shot at getting him the throne. Did Mullin even know that Leonard would get there before him? I doubted it. Neither did I much care at that point. If death could come, I would have welcomed it. I’d had enough. Enough of Hell. Enough of the pain and suffering.
“Hey!” Edward slapped me on the face. “Stay with it! I will heal you soon.”
“Slap me again...I’ll kill you.”
“Yes, yes,” Edward said in his English accent. “Ever the fighter.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a bright red light, brighter than the red that usually bathed all of Hell. Turning my head as much as I could, I noticed what looked like a tear in the very air, like someone had slashed it open with a knife. The bright red light spilling out could have been blood. Heavy booted figures stood around it. “The portal is open!” one of the figures said.
Just then, I heard another voice, this one inside my head this time: Bravo child, bravo!
“Leonard?” I mumbled out loud.
Yes, Leonard said. Nicely done, drawing Eblis away from the palace like that. I’m on my way in now, along with my army. We will overrun it soon enough. Eblis will not know what hit him.
“I didn’t...”
Anyway. We are even. I suggest you leave Hell as soon as possible…if you know what is good for you.
Then he was gone. I could no longer feel his presence in me.
Edward was frowning quizzically at me, like he was wondering who I was talking to. He probably knew better than to ask, though, for he picked me up off the ground, carrying me in his arms toward the blazing portal. "Where...are we going?" I asked.
“To see your friend, Mullin,” he said, and then stepped through the portal.
Even half-conscious, it was a strange experience going through the portal. It felt like my whole body disintegrated into tiny particles for an indeterminate length of time, before coming back together again, just as Edward stepped through the other side still carrying me in his arms. I opened my eyes long enough to notice we were now inside some gloomy room, through which pale white light fell through an opening or window of some kind. There were others in the room, though I couldn't make them out. Then I heard a familiar voice, English like Edward's. "Set her down," Mullin said. "So I can fix her up. She's a bloody mess by the looks of it."
"She is," Edward said as he placed me gently onto the cold stone floor.
As Edward stepped away, Mullin’s grinning face came into view. “Miss Swanson. We meet again.”
If I could speak, I would have told Mullin to fuck off. As I couldn't, I just stared up at him through half-lidded eyes.
Mullin bent down beside me and placed his cold hands on my head. “Let’s get you fixed up,” he said. “Then you can tell me why you haven’t completed your mission yet.”
Whatever power Mullin used to heal me, it was strong. Within seconds of him putting his hands on me, I felt instantly better, fully conscious again, the pain that ran through my whole body beginning to subside, leaving only a dull ache in my bones. "That should do you," Mullin said as I sat up. "How about some clothes? You seem to have lost yours." He waved his hand at me, and suddenly my naked form was clothed, in the same outfit I wore going into Hell, what seemed like years ago now—black leather pants and jacket, with heavy combat boots.
I stood up, my bones creaking as I did so. Several other people stood around me. Or at least they looked like people. They had human form. Maybe a dozen of them, most of them dressed in what looked like military gear, armed with those heavy black guns favored by the Hellwrathian guards. Only one of the bystanders, a woman with long blonde hair and pale blue eyes, was dressed in normal clothes. She wore tight black pants and a red and black corset, laced up tight, pushing her ample breasts up high. The woman stared at me with a neutral expression. They all did. “What is this?” I asked Mullin.
“This,” said Mullin walking to the large open window, his hands behind his back, “is a debrief. And saving your ass, of course. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Even though you’re the reason I was in that mess in the first place.”
He looked over his shoulder at me. “Really? Didn’t you sell your to soul to me? I don’t remember forcing you to do anything.”
He was right of course. This was all my own doing. In one way or another, I chose the path I was now on. “Okay, so what do you want to know? Actually—” I stopped and turned to Edward, who was standing behind me. After staring at him for a second, I punched him in the face.
Edward rubbed at his jaw, but made no move toward me. It was like he expected me to hit him. "I suppose I deserved that."
“Why did you betray me?” I asked him.
“Betrayal is a little strong. I was trying to save everyone on that ship. The Captain knew who you were.”
“Don’t blame Edward,” Mullin said. “It was me that put the word out about you being an assassin.”
“What for?” I said.
“Let’s be honest here,” Mullin said. “I admire you, Miss Swanson, but for all your courage and tenaciousness, there was just no way you were getting into the King’s palace without being caught and tossed immediately into the Depths. Eblis may not have known about you then.”
I shook my head. “So you had me arrested because you knew Seraphim would have to interrogate me herself.”
“Indeed,” Mullin said, then frowned. “You’re calling your mother by her Hell name? That’s strange.”
“Everything is strange here in Hell.”
“That would be true,” the blonde woman in the corset said. “If we were in Hell.”
“What?” I said to her. “Where are we?”
For a brief second, I thought she was going to say Earth. The relief gathered in me, awaiting release.
A release it never got.
“Purgatory,” the blonde woman said.
"Purgatory?" I walked to the large opening in the wall and looked out. Far below, I saw a bleached-out landscape, mountainous, full of trees that grew out of a dirty white earth. Although I was far up, I could still make out the crowds of people below. No demons or monsters, just naked or half naked people. They appeared to be killing each other, engaged in some ongoing battle with no sides. "How is this place any different from Hell?"
"It isn't that much different," Mullin said, standing beside me. "Souls arrive here awaiting judgment. In the meantime, they get bored and violent. You know humans, how they are. There is no established order here. Souls roam around free, aimless, drifting. This tower you are standing in is one of the few buildings in the place."
“It is a watchtower,” the blonde woman said, standing on my other side. “Similar towers are dotted all over Purgatory. The souls below are watched, their final destination decided upon.” She smiled at me like a tour guide.
"Miss Swanson," Mullin said. "Meet my right hand, Breissius. You may call her Bree if it helps."
“We brought you here because we want a status update on your mission,” Bree said, her demon face briefly flickering into view, which was a million miles away from the young and pretty face staring back at me.
I walked away from the window and into the center of the room. All eyes were on me, the demon mercenaries looking like they would shoot me if I said the wrong thing. I kept my eyes on Mullin and his blonde PA or whatever she was. “Things are complicated in Hell,” I began.
“Yes,” Mullin interrupted. “Tell us something we don’t know. I mean, you ended up working for Eblis for one thing.”
“That just happened,” I said. “I haven’t taken my eye of my goal.”
“Have you found the portal?” Bree asked, her constant smile now gone.
“Yes and no,” I replied. “I know how to find it. I just haven’t had a chance to yet.”
“What does that mean?” Mullin asked.
“Well, it turns out Mordred is the only one who can open the portal. I would have to free him from his prison and force him to open the portal himself.”
Mullin and his blonde assistant exchanged glances. “And how do you propose to do that?” Mullin asked.
“Seraphim was supposed to help me.” I paused for a second, not looking forward to saying what came next. “Of course, that’s assuming Eblis hasn’t destroyed Mordred by now.”
“Eblis knows?” Mullin asked.
“Why do you think he was going to hang me?”
Mullin’s eyes flashed red.
“And another thing,” I said.
“What?” Mullin asked.
“Grand Duke Leonard is making a move on the palace. Right now in fact.”
Mullin frowned. “Leonard? You’re saying that old goat is attacking the palace? Right now?” He snapped his head toward Bree. “Why the fuck have we not heard of this?”
Bree looked shaken for a second. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t blame her,” I said. “No one knew. Leonard took advantage of the fact that Eblis was in Damned Square, away from the palace. Your little distraction only helped matters.”
Mullin came toward me. “And how do you know this?”
“It was Leonard who told me about Mordred and the portal. I said I would help him gain access to the palace in return for that information...and not killing me.”
Mullin came closer, his eyes still burning red. “You have just made things very difficult for me, child.”
“Wait!” I said, throwing my hands up. “You can still get the throne. Leonard is only interested in the power of the Adversary.”
“Yes, and if he gets it, nothing else will matter, will it?”
He had a point there. “Come on, Mullin,” I said, backing off slightly. “I can stop Leonard! He trusts me.”
“Trusts you?” Mullin looked aghast at what he saw as my naiveté.
“Okay, you know what I mean. I can get close to him. I know I can, just give me a chance.”
Mullin took a deep breath, and his eyes went back to human blue again. "You have a lot to accomplish in a very small window of time, Miss Swanson."
“Hey, I’ve got this far, haven’t I?”
“All right. It is your soul on the line, after all. Not mine.”
“That’s right.”
“What do you need?”
“A lift back to Hell,” I said. “And Edward.”
Edward looked surprised. “Me? I thought you hated me.”
“I do, but I need your help.”
“Go with her,” Mullin said to Edward. “And you will get the same deal as her. Go through the portal. Leave Hell behind. For a while at least.”
Edward nodded, still looking unsure if he wanted to be a part of anything. Knowing him, he just wanted to go back to roaming the wastelands of Hell again. He was smart enough to know Mullin wasn't asking him, however. Mullin was telling him. "All right," Edward said. "I will once again be a part of this crazy mission."
I nodded. “I’ll also need your men here,” I said. “Someone has to take care of the Hellwrathian guards at the palace.”
“All right, just go,” Mullin said. “And Miss Swanson?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t disappoint me again.”
30
The thing that gets me about Mullin and Eblis (and even Leonard and all the rest of the high-up motherfuckers in Hell), is that, just like the high-up motherfuckers on Earth, they don't do any of their own dirty work. They just expect mugs like yours truly to run around doing it all for them. And woe be-fucking-tide you should you fail at doing said dirty work. I mean, maybe if Mullin got a little more hands-on with this whole Eblis situation, instead of playing Machiavellian games, things might get done quicker; and I wouldn't have to risk everything. But's that life, isn't it? If it weren't this fucking mess, it would just be some other fucking mess.
