Young Writers Society

Chapter 2

The doors must have been created from solid gold, even with my enhanced strength they required considerable effort to push open. I knew that tomorrow my shoulders would ache in protest at the weight. I bit back my curse and stepped inside.

In contrast to the elegantly carved doors the hallway before me was bare. I stepped onto black stone floors, my gaze taking in the room before me. A large sweeping staircase stood to my left, lit only by the occasional burning torch. The stone walls were barren of all decoration, aside from the occasional wrought iron sconce. It was unnerving, how empty it was, as though no life could possibly lie here.

I stood silently in the hallway. Although I had been sent here, I didn’t dare to begin exploring this place. I was not that foolish. I bounced from one foot to the other, careful to keep my expression empty. It was said that the walls here breathed, and it was not something that I was inclined to question. There had been a creeping sensation since the moment I had crossed the threshold, as though there were a thousand eyes raking over me, observing my every move. No, I would not show weakness, not when anyone could be watching.

Seconds passed. Then minutes. Then…

Bang!

The slam of the door behind me was almost deafening. The sound was jarring. I could feel it resounding through my bones, making them grind together.

I spun on my heel, a string of curses leaving my mouth as I glared at the door, fully prepared to bring death upon whoever had caused the crash. But, behind me there was no-one. The door had seemingly shut of its own accord.

I swore, this was Lucifer’s home, of course it had. Only when my heartbeat was slowing to a more normal pace did I hear him. The chuckle. I turned slowly, my eyes resting upon the demon before me.

My gaze traced his form slowly. The black hair with blood red tips, sticking up in every direction in a careless style, the piercing dark gaze that didn’t falter as he stared at me, through me. He was youthful, though I knew that was in appearance only. The tall, muscular frame was an illusion, to disguise some of the raw power that ran beneath his flesh.

Before me stood Samael. From a young age I had heard tales of his glory and his wrath. He had not fell from heaven, he was cast out, rejected by his siblings and father. Only he and Lucifer knew the whole story of what had happened, the rest of us knew only rumours. It had been enough for him to become the right hand of the devil, for him to become commander of Hell’s legions. The demon before me was easily the second most powerful being down here, after only Lucifer himself.

Power radiated from him. It seemed that pure darkness spilled from his gaze. I forced my heart to resume its steady beat as I studied him, feigning disinterest. “Something funny?” was all I was able to ask.

At that he studied me somewhat curiously, though dark amusement still glinted in those eyes. “Yes,” was his only reply. I stood uncomfortably for a few more moments before he gave a grunt of approval, tilting his head in what I presumed was a gesture to follow.

I scowled but followed him, having to hurry my pace to keep up with his large strides. He began leading the way up the staircase, the steps large enough that it took me two steps to cover each of them.

After a few moments of walking I finally gathered the nerve to fill the silence. “Do you know why I am here?”

Samael didn’t even bother to glance back as he merely replied, “yes.”

“Care to tell me?”

“No.”

“Ever answer with more than one word?”

I felt rather than saw his smirk. “Sometimes.”

With a huffed breath of frustration I resorted to following him in silence, clearly I was going to glean nothing of use from him. I stuffed my hands into my pockets and studied Samael’s form. He wore black leather armour, not that which I had seen the other soldiers wear. His didn’t hold the hellhound that was often used as the sigil of Hell, instead it was plain. It showed no sign of use, or at least no sign that someone had gotten close enough to mark the tough leather.

He had a singular sword strapped across his back, though the hilt of the blade was neither extravagant nor plain. It was not jewelled as some of those that decorated my room, instead there was merely a silver wolf engraved at the end. I studied it for a few moments, knowing that many would have fallen by encountering the wrong end of that blade. As though sensing my thoughts I could have sworn the wolf smiled at me, but when I blinked it remained unmoved.

Aside from that Samael appeared to have no other weapons. Strange, I’d have thought he’d have been coated in them. But judging by the power I could feel radiating from him, the demon was a weapon in his own right. Even in taverns in the city which surrounded the mansion, people whispered of Samael. Of how he killed for Lucifer, how sometimes people died from terror before he even got a chance to lay his blade upon them. Whispered of the beast, the true demon that lay beneath his skin.

I shuddered. It was something that I would never desire to witness, if I did, I wasn’t sure I’d survive. The creature before me was a purebred warrior, and though I could fight, he was not someone I believed anyone other than Lucifer himself could beat.

I was torn from my train of thoughts as he stopped before a large wooden door. It was nothing like the golden ones I had entered through, it remained as minimal as the hallways.

Samael turned back to me for a brief moment, his hand resting on the door. “A suggestion, girl.” He paused briefly as though debating if I were worthy of his advice before continuing. “This is not a place for weakness, should you allow your fear to take hold, he will know. Make yourself steel.”

I simply offered him a smile. “So you do speak,” I uttered by way of response. Though I knew the words he spoke should be taken to heart.

Again the low rumble of his chuckle graced my ears. I took that as a sign of his approval as he pushed open the door and led me inside.

The sight that lay before me was more like what I had expected from the home of Lucifer. Upon the walls hung incredibly detailed paintings depicting rage and wrath. Some showed the battle between Heaven and Hell, others held solitary figures, all portraying the victorious as a figure wearing black armour similar to that which Samael now wore. Above me hung extravagant chandeliers, each holding over one hundred flickering candles which bathed the room in light and a comfortable warmth. Huge windows spanned the length of the far wall, providing a clear view of the sprawling city below, I swore that I could hear the people below, drunken laughter, the thrum of city life.

My gaze drifted across the room. One wall held a grand fireplace, the stone depicting a battle between two winged soldiers, their blades crashing together. The fire below emphasised the contours within the stone, seemingly bringing the warriors to life.

Just to the right of the fire there was a shifting of shadows, and suddenly I was at attention. I had been so distracted by the beauty of the room I had forgotten who exactly dwelled within.

It’s a strange moment, when you stand before someone such as the King of Hell. A level of uncertainty washed over me, was this a situation where I would be expected to bow? What exactly was I supposed to say? Why was I even here? The latter obviously the question that had been circulating my mind since my summons had arrived. Yet, I hesitated, there was no doubt that the answer to that question would be revealed in due time, and Samael’s advice still rang in my mind. So I calmed my breathing, the impassive mask consuming my expression once more.

Samael dropped into a seat at a small round table next to one of the windows, inclining his head to indicate that I should take the one opposite him. I took it, grateful for the chance to sit, if only so I could hide my now shaking legs.

My gaze quickly returned to the figure advancing from the shadows. They seemed to reach for him though, a creature who ruled darkness, called to it, just as it called to him. Only as he moved closer to the table did the shadows recede far enough that I could make him out.

Lucifer was not as the stories said he would be, not even close. The sight of him did not make me tremble, he was not a terrifying monster, at least not on the surface. His hair was as dark as the shadows that had clouded him only moments before. But his eyes, they were blue, bright and ethereal. And even then, it was not his face which drew my attention, it was the huge towering wings behind him.

They were tucked close to him, but I could still make them out. The feathers which I knew would have once been white, blindingly so, were blackened and almost seemed charred. They were swathed in shadows, as though that could hide the damage that had been done to them. Even so, the wings were breath-taking and I had no doubt that a small amount of awe had snuck its way into my expression.

It was an effort to tear my gaze away and meet the blue eyes that now looked at me, flickering with amusement. “I take it you’re Ashema?”

It wasn’t really a question, he had sent for me, which meant he knew exactly who I was. That didn’t stop me from nodding anyway and muttering, “Ash works fine.”

He huffed out a snort as he took the final seat at the table. Unlike Samael, Lucifer did not wear armour, instead he was dressed casually. He wore a simple pair of dark pants and a loose fitting grey top. I presumed that there were slits cut into the back to allow for those mighty wings to fit comfortably, designed to accommodate, just as the chairs at the table had been.

For the King of Hell, Lucifer looked remarkably… unremarkable. He appeared perfectly at ease, the very image of someone who had no need to feel threatened. Then I supposed nobody would ever dare, he was the most powerful being in the Underworld, and Samael also served as a constant deterrent.

“Am I not all that you expected?” he asked with a smirk.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I wasn’t expecting anything.” That wasn’t entirely true, none of this was what I had thought would lie behind those golden doors, and I was sure that he knew that. Though I had not known what I would find, I, and others I was sure, had anticipated something more than what there I’d found. “I just want to know why I’m here.” I said bluntly.

“I have need of you.”

I scowled, glaring between the two of them, the vague answers were beginning to wear on my patience. “For what exactly?”

Lucifer appeared to ponder the idea for a few moments before finally deigning to answer. “There’s a slight issue with some souls that I need resolving.”

“Just leave them for a few weeks, I’m sure that they’ll come around. They always do.” I said.

“That’s not the problem, we could use anyone to figure that out.”

At that my curiosity piqued. Though I had had other jobs around Hell before, never had I encountered any problem with the souls. In practice they had been designed to be low maintenance, though on occasion one would resist, never before had one become a big problem. Especially one which was worthy of Lucifer’s attention.

“What’s wrong with them?”

His eyes lost the glint of amusement that had been playing there moments before. Beside me Samael stiffened almost imperceptibly, had I not been paying close attention I was sure that I would have missed it. Lucifer only shook his head. “Before I tell you anything I need to be sure that you’re capable of doing what needs to be done.”

“If you weren’t sure, why bring me here? Why not just send Samael to sort it out?”

“Because I haven’t been to the human world in centuries. You have, even as a Pusher. That knowledge is something we need.” Samael explained.

My eyes narrowed slightly at that. Pushers were where the human idea of demonic possession came from. Some possessed people, and some of the more sadistic demons adapted the thoughts of humans, persuading them to do things that could be considered evil. Often it drove them to the point of madness. Pushers have the ability to enter the minds of others, an uncommon trait among demons, but an occasionally useful one.

Unlike those who sought to control or seek amusement in the torment of humans, I had pushed for a purpose. It was not for demons abuse their power, we wanted to break souls, but some chose to destroy them. My job had been to simply enter the minds of demons who were believed to have committed the crime and find the truth.

The problem, I had soon discovered, was that the minds of such criminals were not pleasant places to be. Sometimes, when trying to discover the source of a single crime it was not strange to come across others, which were occasionally worse than the original. There were often far worse things than skeletons hiding in many closets.

Therefore, I had found solace in the human world, in human minds. After looking through the minds of my fellow demons I would often retreat to the human world for weeks. Their minds were full of hope, so focussed on their lives, their goals. Love. The only place I had ever encountered love was in the human world. Loyalty was something that I was familiar with, but love, the feelings that accompanied it, they went beyond the loyalty that was common here.

Only a few years ago had I quit my role as a Pusher, choosing instead to continue on as a Harvester. It allowed me to enter the human world every day, enough to satisfy my curiosity about the creatures, and escape Hell for a while.

Yet, it was interesting, that the two most powerful beings in the Underworld seemed oblivious to human affairs. Not that humans were that complicated. The question of why they would need to send a Pusher up above was also something that had me curious. I couldn’t help but doubt that whatever it was they were proposing had more at stake than a soul.

It wasn’t like I could just turn Lucifer down though, so I found myself asking, “What do you need me to do?”

“There’s something I’ve lost, I’d like you to get it back for me.”

“Can we please cut the crap with all these vague non-answers?” I snapped. “Where is it and what is it?”

A smirk made its way back onto Samael’s face, and amusement caused Lucifer’s eyes to crinkle. “Let’s just say that I misplaced a book of mine. Last I heard it was resting on Eli’s shelf in the Hollow, but I am finding myself running out of bedtime stories to read,” he said, with a grin.

The Hollow, was where us demons went to burn off some steam. A tavern, and home to the fighting pits. Eli, was the owner of the establishment. The place where we were allowed to be what we truly are, demons. It would be an understatement to call this task impossible. Something, I had no doubt both the men at the table were aware of.

“Why can’t you just send Samael?”

At that Lucifer grinned. “He doesn’t want anyone to scratch that pretty armour of his.”

Samael gave him a glare. “Bastard.” Though the sound of Lucifer’s laugh soon had him cracking a smile. Despite the situation it was clear that the two of them shared a strong bond, something that went beyond mere companions.

“We need to make sure that you’re capable of what we need you to do, think of this as a job interview, you pass, and we tell you what’s going on.” Lucifer explained.

“And if I decline?” I already knew the answer, ignoring a King’s orders was always going to be a bad idea, but there was no harm in checking.

It was Samael who answered. “Then we can dispose of you in the Pit and find someone else.”

I let out a breath. That settled that. “I guess I’m going book hunting,” I muttered.

Lucifer flashed me a wicked grin, one befitting of the devil as he added, “you have three hours.”

I didn’t have to be a genius to know the impossibility of the task that lay before me. Getting the book would likely take three weeks of planning and even then the chances of success were slim. I didn’t even know what damn book it was, or what it looked like. But, one doesn’t refuse their King. So, instead of running for the hills like I should have, I nodded my head, returning his grin with one of my own.

“Consider it done.”