Young Writers Society

Margaret felt her face turn hot.

So they were in hell. Or some kind of purgatory at least. But why? She'd done everything right.

She'd been a good daughter, a good Christian, a good friend, and fiancée.

She couldn't be in purgatory. What had she done wrong?

"This can't be right," Margaret said. "What more did I have to do?"

Vil briefly cast a glance over at Margaret, but his gaze reminded on Quinn as she spoke. He needed an explanation - it was the one thing that could soothe the growing pit of anxiety and anger in his stomach.

"We're two people," Quinn confirmed. Her movements were becoming a little more fluid, but it still took a decent amount of time for her to raise her hand and rub the back of her neck. The other choppily grabbed onto one of the chocolate bars with a quietly muttered word of gratitude, but hung at her side. "And it's a little complicated? I don't really know what's going on right now, but Gabriel and I were together before we..."

She trailed off.

Evidently, she hadn't been aware of their conversations - it seemed like she was only just coming to terms with her death.

"Gabriel was possessing me," she admitted. "He's a demon, and one of my best friends. Someone tried exorcising him, but exorcisms don't work-"

She paused.

"...He says he already explained that part," she said. She thought for a moment, glancing down at herself before glancing back at Emily. "I wasn't there for the exorcism. I think I was knocked unconscious before then, and that's what Gabriel was possessing me. He could have left my body here, but he wants to make sure I'm physically okay before I do. I'm...I'm not sure if Gabriel or I'm the one keeping my body standing right now, so it might be a few minutes before he leaves."

She looked over at Margaret. Vil, both satisfied and relieved by her answer, followed her gaze. There was a troubled expression on Quinn's face, but she didn't say anything at first. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet - it was almost like she was scared.

Then again, they were talking about the possibility of being in some kind of punishment for what they had done when they were alive.

"Gabriel says he mentioned this maybe being some kind of punishment," she said. "But that...that doesn't make any sense. We were promised that we would get into Heaven. Even if Gabriel was possessing me when we died, that shouldn't have changed our chances. He should have intervened."

"He?" Vil repeated.

Quinn stiffened.

"A friend of ours," she clarified.

He raised an eyebrow, folding his arms as he looked up at her. "Who's this friend of yours?"

There was a too long pause before she spoke again.

"An angel," she finally said. "We know an angel. His name is...Saentiel. He promised we'd get into Heaven when we died."

Emily gave them a sad look, "Angels are so dodgy with their promises. Demons'll at least follow through. But I don't know this angel of yours, so maybe there was some kind of mistake? Me, I'm just surprised I got into any afterlife at all, tainted soul and all. It was kinda assumed I'd just, ya know, fade into nothing once I died." She shrugged.

There was something going on here, and she'd like to know what it was. Putting a vampire in the afterlife was something she'd think would require a lot of power, considering she didn't exactly have a soul to put in the underworld. Whoever did this either gave her a soul, or she was just some kind of consciousness right now, somehow given form and put into...this probably wasn't the Duat.

''Maybe this Saentiel wasn't an angel.'' Eos suggested, ''But a...task master of sorts for this place.'' Whoever put them here sure had a lot of power. Maybe too much power...he glared at Zorothin. He didn't want to think about power. Especially since...
''Why did we end in this afterlife? If someone put us here, why did they do that? And can we get out of here?'' he asked averting his gaze from his father.
Zorothin snorted. ''I can answer the first question-because some of us don't deserve to be here.'' he suggested. Eos narrowed his eyes. Did Zorothin ever stop?
''When will you ever come to except that I am not your echo?'' he challenged. Zorothin ignored him as usual, and went on talking.
''Think about it-All of us'' he gave Eos a look, ''Have done something wrong at one point or another, and if we all confess to everything we did wrong'' he gave Eos another look, ''Maybe we can get out of here.''

Emily snorted, "Honey, I lived for actual thousands of years. We'll be here for another couple of decades before I stop having things to confess to, if I can even remember everything. Human memory and all." She shrugged for a reason she couldn't discern and unwrapped one of her chocolate bars.

She was sure his heart was somewhere, but the suggestion felt backhanded. Like he had an ulterior motive of the worst kind. Emily, unfortunately, had a lot of experience with ulterior motives. She didn't particularly like hanging around people who had them.

Margaret was lost with the talk of angels. Instead, she snuck another chocolate bar and turned to the rest.

"How do you suggest we get out of here? Anyone have any ideas?'

Did you really have to use my name? Gabriel asked. Quinn wasn't used to hearing his voice inside of her head instead of outside of it. She was grateful that he had never had a reason to possess her before this; she preferred how things usually were with them. Their lives were strange and unusual, but Gabriel being himself instead of possessing another person was the normalcy she was more comfortable with.

...But she knew normal was something they could no longer get.

It was the first name that I could come up with, Quinn apologized. I'm sorry.

She could imagine Gabriel giving a dismissive wave of his hand. They don't know who it belongs to. The bigger problem is them thinking that an angel failed us.

An angel is less powerful, Quinn guessed.

Now she could see him giving a nod in agreement; it was just something about how his tone sounded. For someone to get us here, they would have had to mess with the reapers and the gods. Whatever brought us here has to be powerful.

Tearing her attention away from the conversation in her head, Quinn started paying attention to the conversation involving everyone else. Out of the corner of her eye, she just barely noticed Vil narrowing his eyes at her silence. But it didn't register enough for her to take note of it - instead, she started talking.

"Zorothin might have a good idea," she hesitantly said. "Maybe this is like Hell."

It's not, Gabriel interrupted. Hell is a prison in Heaven and we both know-

They don't know that, Quinn pointed out, resisting the urge to give an imitation of Gabriel's triumphant smirk like she always did in a conversation like this. And I said like Hell, too.

Touche, Q. But one problem with your idea - do you have anything you can confess to?

...Does running away from home count?