accommodate something other than visiting relatives, something far more useful. I didn’t feel bad about it as the only family I had was Scarlett and it’s not like she would be popping in to stay over. Not willingly, at least. Painted all black, the room seemed to swallow what little light the bulb in the hallway gave off. On the floor was an engraved silver circle, surrounded by electric lights in the shape of candles. What I lacked in magical power, I made up for in ingenuity.
Actually, it had been Lucifer’s idea. He had always been the brains of the operation. Anyway, I flipped the switch on the wall and the candles flickered to life. I shut the door, waited a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dimness, then went and sat in the middle of the circle. I picked up the small knife, which lay on the floor, and took a deep breath as I glanced around the room, feeling a bit apprehensive. I felt weird. It had been quite a while since I’d been in here last. A fine layer of gray dust covered everything. I wondered if it would still work with Lucifer gone. I figured, what the hell? I didn’t really have anything to lose. It would work or it wouldn’t.
I used the knife and poked a finger. After tossing the blade to the side, I reached down and squeezed a drop of my blood onto the circle, willing it to life. I immediately felt a surge of magical energy and saw the edges of the circle shimmer. I smiled as the gate came online, silently thanking my uncle for not taking all of his power with him.
I closed my eyes and thought hard about my destination. Once I had it fully envisioned, I willed myself through the gate. In an explosion of energy and willowy blackness, I arrived a moment later. I was in Hell.
The smell of burnt flesh and brimstone stung my nose as I drew in my first breath, grinning all the while. For all its notoriety, it felt good to be home. I glanced around the monstrous cavern halls to gain my bearing and smiled when I realized I’d appeared exactly where I intended to, the Sixth Plane. The circle had worked perfectly despite the trauma inflicted upon the dimensional walls. I wasn’t sure it would, but I was sure glad it had. Pessimism ran deep in me. I looked off in the distance and saw where I needed to be. Carved in black stone, and decorated in the gleaming white skulls of the enemies of its master, the castle cast an imposing shadow in the reddishyellow light. While glad to be back, I knew I didn’t have time to waste reminiscing, so I headed off. It only took me a few minutes to reach the castle, the roads and fields empty.
That was a little disconcerting.
It had been over fifty years since I’d been in Hell last, but I hadn’t imagined it would have changed so drastically in such a relatively short time. Normally, the Sixth Plane would be bustling with activity. As one of the more lenient Circles, the Sixth attracted the most adventurous of Hell’s denizens, which lent it an energy that couldn’t be found anywhere else. Culturally devoid and entirely lacking in morality, the carnival atmosphere prevailed. If there was something taboo you wanted to see, touch, taste, or fuck, the Sixth was where you went. There was very little that couldn’t be experienced there.
I know most people would picture the entirety of Hell as being such a place, but that’s not true. In general, it’s an ordered society with a civilized, albeit somewhat tormented, populace. It’s not the rampant serpent’s nest of evil it’s made out to be. That’s all a story made up by the Church to keep the believers in line.
There are, of course, those parts best left alone if you value your life and sanity. Places even the denizens of Hell would rather not think about, but as a whole,
Hell is little different than Earth. It’s drier, hotter, and entirely subterranean, but otherwise pretty similar. It is, after all, populated by the same people. To see the Sixth so devoid of life was disturbing. I’d spent many raucous nights here sowing all manner of seeds. Today, it felt like I was visiting a grave. Lucifer’s departure had taken away more than just Hell’s leader. It had taken its spirit as well. I shuddered and returned my focus to the castle. I didn’t like the feelings that were being dredged up. Once at the castle’s gate, I called out. I stood there for several minutes twiddling my thumbs, but there was no reply. Worried the war had taken its toll on the seat of power of the Sixth, I called out louder. Once more, there was no response.
Discouraged, I turned away from the gate and glanced out across the sputtering lava fields. They churned and bubbled in slow motion, the thick scent of sulfur from their gurgling exhalations tickled the back of my throat. I looked to the coal caves where those souls still serving penance would toil beneath the biting whip of the field masters. They too were empty, devoid of life. Even the sky seemed lifeless. The black clouds hung immobile, thick and threatening. It was as if Hell were holding its breath. Saddened, I looked once more to the gate. A pair of glowing red eyes stared back at me.
“What is your business?” the wrinkled face that Page 128 peered down at me from the top of the wall asked. Startled, it took me a second to answer. “I’ve come to see the duke.” The door guy must have been new. He didn’t seem to recognize me. Admittedly, it had been a while since I’d stopped by. I guess I couldn’t hold it against him.
“He’s not to be disturbed.”
“I need to speak to him. It’s of grave importance.”
The servant seemed unmoved by my grandeur.
“Nothing is of importance if the master does not declare it so. Go away.” He stepped away from the wall, out of sight.
“I am Triggaltheron, nephew of Lucifer.” Though I hated dropping my uncle’s name like that, I needed inside. “I must speak with the duke.” I tried my best to sound important.
I guess he wasn’t impressed, as he didn’t return. Fifty years ago, I’d have been let in so fast I’d have incurred whiplash. Today, my name and heritage didn’t carry enough wind to raise an ass hair. How quickly the past is forgotten.
I sat there for a minute longer until I decided I wasn’t gonna be let in. I’d have to make other plans. Just as I turned to leave, I heard a loud clack and the gate began to slowly rise. I looked back to see the great double doors behind the gate pulling open. Once both had cleared the way, I saw the servant waving to me from inside. I hurried through before he could change his shriveled mind.
Short, hunchbacked, and looking far too old and feeble to be of much use, the servant gestured for me to follow him. His sharp nose and disfigured arms made him look like an under cooked chicken. I doubted even Colonel Sanders would find him attractive. He hobbled along toward the main keep as I caught up.
“So, you’re the fool who refused Satan’s offer to be the Anti-Christ?”
That’s just what I needed, the help questioning my life choices. “Yeah well, the hours sucked and there weren’t any health benefits. What can I say? I could do better.”
He looked at me like I’d just praised the Pope.
“You utter such blasphemy.” A smile crept to his twisted, cracked lips. “It would explain why Lucifer held you in such high regard.”
I think I blushed.
We traveled the rest of the way in silence. At a pair of ornate double doors made of bone, we came to a stop. The servant tapped on the door and a basso welcome roared out. The doors swung open and I was ushered in.
The room beyond looked suspiciously like a church. A great red carpet led down the center of the room, rows of red velvet chairs lined either side. At the far end was a raised dais, a monstrous throne on top. The subtle scent of singed meat hung in the air, wafting up from the fleshy candles, which circled the room. My stomach rumbled.
Seated upon the throne was an old friend of my uncle, one of my mentors in the days when I lived in Hell. Duke Forcalor. He lifted his chin a bit and narrowed his eyes as I approached. He looked as regal as I’d remembered.
Clothed in the finest silks, he seemed the paragon of comfort. His long white hair was tied back tight, lending him a youthful appearance. His cleanshaven, unlined face added to the illusion. He waved me forward, his eyes sparkling. He seemed glad to see me.
“Come in, come in, young Trigg.” He remembered how much I hated my full name. It warmed my heart.
“It’s been ages since I’ve seen you. How are you?” He gestured to a nearby chair.
I gave a quick bow of respect, then dropped into the seat. “As well as I can be.” I tried not to sound too pessimistic. “How are you, my friend?”
“I’m wonderful, just wonderful.” He looked me over, an eyebrow creeping up. “I sense a burgeoning strength within you.” He paused a second, examining me further. A bright smile lighted across his face.
“You’ve blooded your hands.”
Though I knew it was a compliment, I felt a hint of shame well up. “I hadn’t really intended to. This war…” I
