Hell's Gatekeeper (Chapter 2)

I wake up earlier than normal, giving me six hours of sleep, and make my way to the portal that takes me to Earth. I open it up, and drink the contents in the black vial. It’s horrible and tastes like fire and prickles, but I can feel it taking effect.

Before the heat of Hell gets me, I jump through the portal, and my mind is taken over by blackness.

When I wake, I’m floating above a lake. I shouldn’t be floating if I’m a human now. But when I look down at my form, I see that it’s starting to change. Instead of the rainbow strips of spirit matter that floats around me, my form is becoming solid. And suddenly, I’m falling.

I hit the water screaming, and when I rise, I cough and splutter, spitting water from my mouth. I swim to the edge of the lake and crawl onto the bank. I cough up more water, and then fall over, breathing heavily. I close my eyes for a second, but I think I drifted off, because when my eyes open again, I’m staring into green eyes and a scared face, shaking me awake.

“Are you ok?” The boy asks.

I sit up and move away from the boy. But after a second, and once my vision has cleared, I recognise him as the boy Isis wants. How did he get out here? I thought he was in a juvenile detention centre.

“Why are you here?” I ask. I realise I’m speaking ancient Egyptian, so I change tongue and try again. “Sorry, wrong language,” I apologise. “Why are you here?”

“What do you mean ‘why am I here’? I live here,” he says.

“Yes but … wait, you do?” I hadn’t known that bit about him.

“Yes, I do. I just got out of … hospital, and I was going for a walk. Why are you here?” He narrows his eyes.

“I’m here … on holiday?” I offer.

He looks at me sceptically. “A holiday? On private property?”

“No I … I wasn’t meant to be here. I was meant to be somewhere else. I didn’t mean to end up here,” I splutter. I think it’s best to play the fool here.

He smiles. I hadn’t expected that. “You’re cunning. I have to give you that. But you can’t stay out here,” he looks at the sky, at the grey-blue clouds floating across the sky. “Come with me, I’ll take you some place where you can dry off, and I’ll call your parents.”

I get up and wipe my hand on my pants, which are what humans call jeans, and smile. “Thanks but … my Mum isn’t here, and I don’t know who my Dad is,” I say softly.

“What do you mean your Mum isn’t here?” He asks.

“She’s in the heavens. She died many years ago,” I tell him. And it’s true. Though I’ve never actually spoken to my mother, I have seen her in the heavens.

“Oh, sorry,” he hangs his head. “I didn’t mean to be so rude.”

I shrug. “Didn’t quite know her all that well anyway. Besides, I can see her whenever I want, I just choose not to.”

He gives me a curious look. “I’m Daniel, by the way.”

“Cleopatra. But just call me Cleo. I prefer that.”

We shake hands, and Daniel smiles. “All right, Cleo, let’s get you dry.”

I nod and he leads me through some trees to a large house. I follow him in through the front door and into a large room. I smile and look around. I’ve seen many mansions in my lifetime, and all have been grander than this. But because of its simplicity, I love it.

“You like it?” Daniel asks.

I nod. “It’s so small and cosy. Much smaller than Isis’s castle,” I murmur, though my voice echoes through the room.

“Isis? Like the Egyptian Goddess?” Daniel asks.

I nod. “Just a name,” I say.

Daniel takes me up the stairs and to a room with a small bed and a window. I walk over to the window and see that I have full view of the lake. This must have been where Daniel was when I was on the shore.

I spin around to look at Daniel. “You don’t mind if I stay here for a while, do you? I ask.

“How long is a while? Because if it’s a year, then I’m sorry, no,” he says.

“Just three weeks,” I tell him.

He blinks. “Oh. Just three weeks? And then you’ll be gone?” He asks.

“Yes. I have to be gone by then anyway because of my work. I have three weeks off, and I chose here for a holiday,” I say.

“What sort of job do you have?” He asks.

“I … I don’t know what you’d call it here, but where I’m from I’m a receptionist. I say who can enter the … country or not. There are so many … people that want to get in that I’m working every day. My … boss has given me three weeks off. I don’t know who’s going to replace me for those three weeks, and I hope it isn’t her son,” I explain, trying to find words that will make sense to him.

“So you’re saying you’re like … the person that allows people into the country?” I nod. “How old are you exactly?”

I raise my finger in the air and open my mouth to answer, but come up with nothing. Because if I told him that I turn one thousand today, he’d probably faint. I try to remember my age before I became the Gatekeeper, and add a few more years. Or not. I don’t know. And my pause has caused Daniel to look at me with suspicion.

“Cleo? Did you hear me? How old are you?” He says, louder this time.

“Seventeen … today,” I say, which could be true. If I’d stayed living in this world.

“Oh … well happy birthday,” Daniel smiles. “And how does a seventeen year old get a job like that?”

“I don’t know,” I say truthfully. “Can we please not continue, I don’t know how to tell you about my life without giving away too much.”

“So you’re like some secret agent or something?” He asks, crossing his arms.

“No,” I huff. “I’m no secret agent.”

“So you work for like … some top secret government or something saying who can enter the country or not?” He throws back.

“You could say that,” I counter.

“And I can’t know about it?”

“No … not until … no you can’t.”

“Until what? What is it that I can’t know until … what?” Daniel walks up to me.

“I … can’t … say,” I say it slowly, as if he’s stupid.

“Yes, I got that bit, but I mean … until what?” He presses.

“You can’t know that either,” I growl.

Daniel watches me for a moment before turning away. I know he hasn’t finished with this conversation just yet, and he’ll try again, try and catch me off guard. He can think I’m a normal person with normal instincts, but he doesn’t know that not only am I not normal, but I’m from Ancient Egyptian times. I know more than he thinks I do.

“I’ll have dinner ready in half an hour. The shower is through that door, and there should be spare clothes in the drawers beside the bed,” he says, and leaves, closing the door behind him.

I walk over to the door and push it open. Inside are a sink, a shower and a bath next to each other. There is another door, and when I go over to push it open, I find a white, porcelain toilet, clean smelling and pretty. I walk back to the sink and start taking off my clothes. First my sodden, leather jacket, then my wet jeans. Next is my dark purple shirt with the low-cut neck, and then the dark grey singlet under that. I pull off my leather boots and sigh. They’re ruined now, and I can’t get another pair the same. They were preserved from my time, and there are no others like them left in the world.

I stand in front of a mirror above the sink that shows me my body down to my waist. I still have underpants and a bra on, but I’m struck yet again by the tattoo running across my belly and up, under my bra. I’ve seen the tattoo thousands of times of the Gods and Goddesses of Egypt, but each time they captivate me. I love the intricate patterns that surround each God and Goddess. Some are on my upper arms, but most are on my stomach and back. I have Bastet sitting on my collarbone in her cat form, curled up as if she’s sleeping there. I have Hathor on my left upper arm sitting with Ra, the sun god. On my back, when I turn around, I see Amun on my right shoulder blade, and on my other shoulder blade are Isis and Osiris. Below them is their son, Horus. On my lower back there is Seth, angry and simmering.

On my stomach are the other Gods and Goddesses: Anubis; Aten; Bes; Geb; Hapy; Khepri; Khnum; Ma’at; Nephthys; Nun; Nut; Ptah; Ra-Horakhty; Seshat; Shu; Tawaret; Tefnut and Thoth. On my right upper arm is Sekhmet, the Goddess of war. I have met all of the Gods and Goddesses, and showed all of them my tattoos. They love them, and smile every time they see me.

I pull off the rest of my clothes and step into the shower. I turn the taps on and cold water runs down my body. I turn on another until the water is warm. I use the soaps and conditioners there until my skin is soft and my hair falls in silky, black waves down my back. I turn the water off and step out of the shower, grabbing a towel as I go. I start to dry myself when I hear the sound of a door closing behind me. I spin around just to see the bedroom door close.

I wrap the towel around my body and walk out to see why the door closed, or to check to make sure no one else is in here. The room is silent and empty, but when I spin around to walk toward the window, I see the Japanese Goddess of creation and death, Izanami. I blink in astonishment, and then bow low.

She stands up and bows back before resuming her seat. I smile and walk over to her. She watches me with pretty gold eyes until I stop and kneel down in front of her. She places a hand on my shoulder, next to Bastet, and smiles.

“You are the Gatekeeper of Hell, the Underworld?” She asks.

I nod. “Yes, Goddess, I am. My name is Cleopatra the second, the daughter of Cleopatra the first of Ancient Egypt,” I announce formally.

She smiles. “Yes, I know that. I also know you are here on leave. The Gates to the Underworld will be held up … unless Isis gets someone else to fill in for you,” she says, her Japanese accent strong.

“I think she’ll have Persephone fill in for me,” I tell her. Persephone is Hades’ wife. The woman is kind and sweet natured, and is good at judging people.

“Ah,” Izanami smiles. “Good choice. Persephone is a good character. But I am here with a message from Zeus, Odin and Ra themselves.”

I gulp. The three high-Gods of the heavens with a message for me? It must be something important.

“You are not to tell the boy he is going to Hell,” she says.

“So … they don’t want him in the heavens?” I ask.

Izanami shrugs. “They have arranged with Isis to have his sister transferred to the heavens. She had sacrificed her soul for her brother, but Zeus wants her in the heavens.”

I nod. “Makes sense. She is an Old Soul, I reckon,” I admit.

“Yes, she is. She has been reincarnated many times. Now I must leave you. And remember, don’t tell the boy he’s going to Hell,” Izanami says, and then fades away.

I smile. So the Old Soul has been transferred. She must have been happy to know that her brother would fair ok. She must also have learnt from the other souls that I am their Keeper – the one that makes sure they are well.

After some time I get up and walk over to the drawers beside the bed. I pull out a pale green short-sleeve shirt, some plain, clean underpants, and black jeans with pretty sequins on the pockets. I put on the pants and walk into the bathroom to get my bra. It’s as dry as it can be, but not dry enough.

From my belt still on my other jeans I pull off a waterproof pouch. Inside is a red-black dust. I get a handful and sprinkle it over my clothes. After a couple of seconds, they’re completely dry. I put on the bra, singlet, and then the pale green shirt.

I hang up my other clothes and hide my belt. It was made in Hell, and so cannot be affected by anything on Earth. That being done, I walk out of the room and down the stairs, following my nose until I get to the kitchen. Daniel is running between pots and pans on the stove, cooking up a feast.