The Pentagram Child: Part 2 (Afterlife Saga Book 5) (4 page)

“King of the mortal realm and son of Asmodeus in this one.” Now
this
got a reaction. They all sucked in a sharp breath before they clicked their tongues against the roof of their mouths.

“Master…”
They all hissed together and I wanted to roll my eyes. Maybe next time a flying hoard of demons wanted to rip me limb from limb I should mention my father’s name….as infuriating as this realisation was, it was a damn sight quicker than engaging in battle that was for sure.

“We shall take you.

Celaeno was the one to comply this time and she did so lowering her head in respect. Ok, so maybe not
all
of the presidents have turned a blind eye after all. The fact that it was my father was a sobering one indeed.

 

I let one of the sisters lead me and wasn’t surprised that it was Podarge that wanted the task. She seemed like the quietest of the four or at the very least the more reasonable… if there were such a thing. Maybe I was wrong about their intelligence, as so far the only one to ask the right question was the creature now in front of me.

She walked at a steady pace which was maddening to me. I had to resist the urge to demand her go faster but knew that wasn’t the right move. Granted I had defeated their army, one that would take them at least a few decades to recreate. But this place wasn’t just a prison to keep inmates where they were sent on lockdown but also a place to lose them altogether.

A honeycomb of every horror imaginable just waiting to be discovered and if there was one thing I lacked, then it was time. The idea of roaming these endless corridors and passageways wasn’t something I could afford to do. So for those valid reasons I followed behind the Harpie with clenched fists and grinding my teeth in frustration.

“What must you seek with this inmate?” Podarge asked after turning a corner. I was actually surprised by her question but more at the calm manner in which she’d asked it. After all I had just destroyed her children and I shuddered to think how many of them there would have been if it wasn’t only the sisters that could reproduce.

“Vengeance.” Was all I said causing her to look thoughtful a moment before nodding her head in acceptance.

“We are nearly there.”

“And the Titans, where are they?” I inquired but this time I wasn’t surprised by the reaction I received. She snapped her head round and scowled at me through where her wings were joined. She hissed and clicked her jaw in displeasure before answering me.

“No one goes there, not even your father. You will be good in heeding my warning youngling.” I had to laugh at the youngling bit. She cocked her head in confusion making me clarify,

“I am older than I look.” To which she simply shrugged her shoulders. It was the most human attribute I seen any of them portray as of yet.

“Nothing is older than the Titans or more powerful. Nobody is allowed in the core, not even the Royal blood of the nine.” She said looking back when mention of my father.

“And the Venom of God?” I pushed.

“You will have to ask him that yourself.” She said coming to a stop at what I presumed was the last door. She held open the heavy slatted wood and nodded for me to proceed her.

“I am not permitted.” Was her only explanation and upon looking down at her I saw but a glimpse of the beauty that once radiated from her.

“You’re not?” I questioned wondering if there was more to this place than I first thought.

“We are all prisoners here, even the ones that guard its walls.” Her response made me want to ask about its wardens then but I was here for a single purpose and that purpose was through this door.

“I thank you.” She looked up shocked at such a statement and opened her mouth as if to say something but what she did say I knew wasn’t what would have been her first choice.

“I believe his is the last cell.” After that she nodded her head once more before leaving me to my mission…

 

And the inmates of Hell.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 47

Inmates of Hell

 

 

 

 

Walking into this level of Tartarus was similar to Earth’s prisons in only one way and that was I was now staring down a long pale stone corridor. However that was where the similarities promptly ended. Instead of barred cells being on either side of the walkway there were crude looking pits dug into the ground as if keeping wild beasts hidden from constant view.

The first set of cells were fairly tame compared to the others, being only covered by rows of thick black bars. I will admit that my curiosity got the better of me as I walked closer to the first inmate and looked down.

“Seraphim.”
I said its name in disgust and it looked up at me to snarl
.
When most of my kind heard the name of Seraphims, they first thought of angels, but their souls had a nasty habit of turning sour and now I was looking at the result of that
.

Well known to the Egyptians, Babylonians and Assyrians these once angelic figures turned into serpent demons thanks to the first corruption from the serpent Dahaka. In Persian mythology, the serpent Dahaka was the reincarnation of the evil spirit Angra Mainyu. Someone whose evil counted upon the drying of mortal lands and causing famine… hence the foul family offspring reacting to me in this manner now.

I had been the one to put a stop to this plan, banishin
g
Angra Mainyu to Hell but leaving Dahaka to inherit the empty vessel, one gladly accepted. However I didn’t discover that part of the infected soul had stayed within the Vessel, polluting Dahaka, until it was too late. Dahaka created the Seraphim as an army to aid in the quest to overthrow my throne in retaliation.

Needless to say this ‘war’ was quickly fought and won, and resulted in all Seraphims serving out their sentences in Hell as part of the nine Princes’ lower ranking army. Well clearly from the looks of it, not all had taken kindly to their new positions, forced upon them thousands of years ago.

The word Seraphim came from the plural of the Hebrew word ‘saraph’ meaning ‘to burn.’ This also referred to the burning sensation and inflammation caused by the venom of a snake bite, which was one of their many charms. However it soon became clear that what I only moments ago thought was a tame looking cell was in fact the very nature of their name. This was proven when the Seraphim in question reached up as if to attack me and started burning as soon as its three clawed fingers came in contact with the bars.

Its scaled stretched skin started to blister and split like a roasting pig rotating on a spit and it filled the corridor with not only the smell of cooked flesh but the echoing sounds of agonising pain. Its grey wrinkled face contorted and cracked the larger scales on its domed forehead, causing blood to seep from beneath the cracks. I watched with little pity as its deep set green eyes started to roll back into its low forehead and then its burning body crashed back onto the dirt floor below.

I remembered the creatures all too well and knew how resilient they were to such things. It might not like it at the time but it would be healed and regenerated all damaged skin within the hour, as was the way with Seraphims. And as was the way when the decision to make them the pawns of most legions came to pass. After all, an army that could regenerate itself was one worth keeping close by, if only to keep the enemy busy.

I stepped back and moved onto the next cell, not taking any chances that Sammael was at the end of the row. In fact it was hard at this angle to gauge just how many cells there were in this block, so I let my wings give me the advantage I needed to count them. I was surprised to see only five remained but they were each spaced out by what looked like massive drainage pits simply covered by metal grids.

I couldn’t fathom for the life of me why they were here or for what purpose they served. A fact I wondered until it brought me to the next inmate…The Drekavac race.

In Slavic history the Drekavacs were an army of small demons attracted to unbaptized humans and gathered the souls of the unfaithful for their master to feed upon

Deumus Drekavac. 

They fed from their terror as it appeared to them as a ghostly figure of an undead child. What mortals didn’t realise was that in my world they too appeared as a dying children, using the vessels of sick younglings once death was upon them and never healing their new bodies.

It was still unclear as to why they preferred such a form over that of an adult or why they would never allow their vessel to age. No, instead they simply allowed their child flesh to rot instead of taking care of their host.

I looked down in distaste at the wasteful vermin that if I had my way, would never be allowed to find solace in the mortal realm. Thankfully Deumus Drekavac had found his demise at the hands of Ragnar’s kin and as much as I loathed that damn Snake Eye Viking, he at least rid me of yet another ‘Marked’ that had been on the extraction list. 

But right now, without its master’s guidance, was the result of a broken Drekavac dying and its desperate need to feed. If someone else stood in my place now and didn’t know the exact nature of what they were looking at as I did, then seeing this small form they would feel only one sentiment and that was pity. In the withering form of a starving child it was unsettling to witness which was a new emotion for me to deal with.

Before I had been introduced to Keira’s niece Ella, then my interactions with the young mortals had been limited at best. In fact it was a fairer statement to say they had been near none existent, so before now seeing this kind wouldn’t have mattered to me. However now the thought of such a child ever encountering sickness, pain, mistreatment or worse, death, was a difficult emotion to deal with without bringing forth a demon’s rage.

Actually it caused so much of a reaction in me that I positioned myself over the cell before I could think too closely into my actions.

“Find your souls release in this act of mercy.” I said before discharging the full length of one of my blades, only to be extended into the Drekavac’s maggot infested skull, putting an instant end to its pitiful existence.

I frowned in disgust as the blade sank in with little effort and had to wonder how long the creature even had left. Black blood oozed from its eyes and nose, leaving an inky trail along my blade as I pulled it free. I retracted my weapon which left the inside of my wrist dripping with demon blood, one thankfully that was never taken into my vessel. However it did present the problem when battling many a foe that my hands would often be soaked with the blood of my enemies. Well with only my jeans to speak of I had little choice than to smear them with the evidence of what I had done here.

The next set of cells held a mixture of Mephistopheles, a winged demon with giant tusks from its cheeks. Its mortal vessel was patched together using the torn flesh of its victims, stitched in place using its own hair and wearing each patch with pride like a trophy.

Also added to the mix was a Rakshasas, said to be an evil spirit in Hindu mythology with shape-shifting abilities. The truth was it was a demon that would keep shedding its vessel once pregnant with a reincarnation of itself. But instead of being given birth to the way a mortal would, it would come into this world by tearing open its vessels mouth, forcing back its jaw until it broke the skull in two, rendering the host useless. This rebirth could only be achieved down here as the Rakshasas could only survive from the raw demonic energy Hell provided in their young form.

The fifth cell down and with only one more to go finally explained the need for the drainage pits each situated in between the cells. They looked like giant vents and the sight of five dwarfed sized Ukobach demons all held what looked like giant ladles with long arched handles. These lesser inferior demons were not meant for the human realm but sometimes they managed to make it to the surface undetected, which explained why these five were being put to good use.

Ukobachs made up a large part of Hell’s workforce and were usually sent to work in the castle boiler rooms for the hierarchy of the Underworld. Given their love of extreme levels of heat this suited them nicely, however these scarred five looked as though they had felt the end of their master’s whip a few times before being cast down to the deepest level of Hell.

To look at them you wouldn’t have thought much strength could be found in their thin skeletal forms but to see them work such fears were quickly eradicated. Wafer pale skin with the texture of asbestos covered most of their bodies and the sparks that spat out at them from behind the grated furnaces were surprisingly protective. They worked in tandem as they spooned black oil into the slots to feed the constant flames but alas I was at a loss to understand what they could be fuelling.

One looked up at me and I knew from past experience with these demons that all they would see is a vague shadow considering they were almost completely blind. White milky eyes stared at me for a few seconds longer and then turned back to the flames that had caused such blindness. An eternity of staring at the flame would no doubt do that to beings.

It grunted to the others that also gave me a brief look but I didn’t expect much else. After all, with lips that were pulled up tight and were pierced to their foreheads I wasn’t going to stand around and wait for them to speak.

However their reaction to me seemed strange. They didn’t usually interact with those outside of their station and that usually meant anyone higher than them. But now it was almost like they were trying to tell me something. This quickly became apparent when a crank turning could be heard and they all looked up at once. I suddenly spotted the deep rooted chains they all now had a tight hold of and swiftly reacted.

Thankfully I was quick enough in getting out of the way for directly above their cell two halves of a metal door swung open, releasing a downpour of water and flooding their cell in seconds. Even though I had been stood over their cell’s bars and directly under where water now poured from, their purpose hadn’t been to save me from getting wet…as I was to find out.

The reason for their warnings came as soon as the water touched the core of the furnace, releasing with it bellows of scalding steam. I turned my body at the same time calling forth my wings to shelter behind, igniting my power as protection. I couldn’t afford to waste the strength it took in healing my vessel and with it the irritation of receiving second degree burns wasn’t exactly on my most wanted list right now.

I stayed hidden until I could no longer hear the water flooding the demons’chamber with my impatience mounting every second. I had heard that time in Tartarus worked differently to the rest of the levels of Hell. That instead of going more slowly it did in fact go more quickly than that of the mortal realm. If I were to guess I would say it had something to do with being closer to the outer core of the earth. That and th
e
1,430 miles of churning iron and nickel liquid that helped generate the Earth's magnetic field.

Well whatever it was I was just thankful for it as I had already wasted too much time as it was.  I shook the water from my wings and I felt the tingling sensation ripple down my spine as my feathers ruffled up in annoyance. Once I heard the metal trap swing and bolt back into place I turned to the Ukobachs’ cell, walked back to where I had stood and nodded my thanks down at the five. I received a grunt or two from the wet little demons before they started the whole process over again. They started feeding the reignited flames from the oil that had once again started pouring from different holes in the wall of their cell.

“Last one” I said on a growl as I turned to what was undoubtedly the biggest cell on the prison block. The pit was at least twice the size of the rest and looked by far the deepest. It became clear as to why this was the case as I stepped closer and could hear the unfamiliar sound. It was certainly a fitting prison for such a destructive inmate that was damn sure.

“Aeolus’ eye…this is going to hurt’ I said shaking my head knowing what needed to be done. Sammael’s form couldn’t be seen and nor would it with that deadly vortex encasing his cell. Summoning an Aeolus eye was similar to dropping a smaller version of a tornado on top of somebody and expecting them to live a life in its centre for the rest of eternity. 

Aeolus, the God of wind and Perses, the god of destruction both were charged by Zeus to create such a force, that the two powers combined were unstoppable to escape and hence this was meant for only the worst prisoners. This he had sent to his brother Hades as a gift to use as punishment to those he had under his charge.

The outcome to this was what I was now looking at and unfortunately what I had to try and destroy in order to free Sammael.

It was a force that not only kept one captive but also literally ripped one to pieces if it was touched. This incredible force had the ability to momentarily eradicate flesh and bone one second but then the power to completely reconstruct the whole body the next. The pain of not only being torn apart was inconceivable but then to be put back together was enough to avoid it like one does death.

It wasn’t only witnessing th
e
Aeolus’ eye in action for the first time that made me reluctant to get to step closer but it was the monster I had to set free that rightfully remained imprisoned inside. I took out the vial of blood and every fibre in my being had to hold back the Demon in me from crushing it and ending this inflicting madness…but then Keira would be lost as there was no healing her from the curse that bastard had set upon her.

Other books

Wicked Dreams by Lily Harper Hart
Laboratory Love by Chrystal Wynd
The Gothic Terror MEGAPACK™: 17 Classic Tales by Radcliffe, Ann, Le Fanu, J. Sheridan, James, Henry, Atherton, Gertrude
Ambush by Nick Oldham
No Pain Like This Body by Harold Sonny Ladoo
Escape by Night by Laurie Myers
Debt of Ages by Steve White


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024