Hell Found Me
folder
DarkFic › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
4,314
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
DarkFic › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
4,314
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
The House of Hell
Go me! I figured out html! I really want reviews...:-( and go see my other stories 2!!! Yes, this chapter is meant to be in past tense. For some literary reason, I wrote it that way. And there\'s dialogue! YAY! R&R!
Chapter 3— The House Of Hell
Hell has taken me to his house in the Underworld.
I awoke yesterday morning with a start of pain, as he often uses to wake me. “Up, my dear,” he said coldly. “We are going to the Underworld today.”
He clothed me with a wave of his hand in a black dress, and seized my wrist. “You will come with me, or I shall break your arm.”
He twisted my arm viciously, and I nearly cried out against his orders. “I will,” I gasped. “I will!”
“Good,” he said, loosening his grasp a little. “You are intelligent, my child.” His grip tightened again, and he pulled me to my feet. Hell’s skeletal arms went around my waist and pressed me up against him, constricting my breathing. One hand dug into my hair, forcing my head to rest against his shoulder. “Close your eyes,” he ordered, and I did, fearfully. I felt terribly ill all of a sudden, a feeling I knew well.
“Do I have another Demon?” I asked him softly, knowing the answer.
“Of course, my dear. You should not be surprised.” I am not.
He clenched me even tighter, and I choked. We began to spin very fast, sickeningly so. I shrank my body as far as I could, trying to get away from the sounds and smells of death that surrounded me all of a sudden. Hell was wrapped around me, partially in shadow form, and I burned in his fiery embrace.
It all stopped abruptly. Hell released me, and I staggered, clutching my aching head and my writhing stomach. When I could look up, there was nothing to see. Blackness pressed on me from every direction, and I cried out in fear.
Hell’s icy fingers, smelling of death, closed over my mouth. “Do not be frightened, child. You are not afraid of the dark when you are with your little husband, are you?” He called himself that only half in jest, for he had made me a present of a silver ring when I was very young. He allowed me to wear it on my left hand rather than my right, but both of us knew the wedlock it signified. Sometimes, when he felt he should punish me, the ring burned into my skin.
His hand left my mouth and slid smoothly down my arm to my hand. He wrapped his fingers around it and began to pull me purposefully. I stumbled along, not able to see in the blinding dark. A terrifying thought suddenly struck me.
“Am I dead?” I asked Hell. He stopped abruptly, turning and pulling me against his shadow body.
“Not dead, my sweet. You are simply in my house. Your body remains in your room, and if someone finds it, they will believe you to be dead. In truth, I have liberated your soul.”
“But I am dead to the world?” I ask, horrified at the concept.
“I suppose. You will no longer inhabit an earthly body, if that is what you are asking.”
In other words, I was dead. I am dead. I will not live again.
“I have decided,” Hell continued, beginning to move again, “that you shall stay with me for all eternity.”
“All…eternity?”
“Yes, my Desdemona.”
Desdemona is not my name. I have forgotten my name, for he calls me nothing else. It means ‘of the Devil’, which I am, in a way. He has never called me by any other proper name. His references of ‘dear’ and ‘sweet’ are merely his morbid, mocking sense of humor. He is incapable of the affection normally shown by these names.
He led me in the dark for a long time, until we came upon the first thing I had been able to see. It was a great river, blood red in color, and rushing quickly past. It seemed to glow, roiling and roaring as though it lived. Hell brought me to a small boat, in which was lurking a pool of shadow, such as I know a Demon to be. Hell pushed me down onto the seat of the boat and sat close beside me, his hand digging into my back. The Demon rose up into a hunchbacked figure and took up a great pole to push us across the river.
The turbulent, crimson water, though it rushed about us, had no effect on the boat’s journey. The river was vast, and it was many minutes before a great metal gate loomed into view. Hell lifted his free hand and the gate opened, allowing us to pass.
A great lake formed past this gate, and across the lake, there was a rocky shore, upon which was built a house. Such a house I have never seen! I looked up and up and up, and could not see the tops of the great spiraling turrets.
The house is made of the grimmest hard stone and metal. It is very foreboding to look at, as it is decked with hard stone gargoyles and gryphons. Everything is very sharp and deathly, and gives an impression of morbid death. The only colours are grey, black, and the blood red of the river.
Hell saw me looking, and said, “Welcome home, my sweet Desdemona. Welcome to the House of Hell.”
Anti-Hell pendants to reviewers--guarenteed to last this life and the next!
Chapter 3— The House Of Hell
Hell has taken me to his house in the Underworld.
I awoke yesterday morning with a start of pain, as he often uses to wake me. “Up, my dear,” he said coldly. “We are going to the Underworld today.”
He clothed me with a wave of his hand in a black dress, and seized my wrist. “You will come with me, or I shall break your arm.”
He twisted my arm viciously, and I nearly cried out against his orders. “I will,” I gasped. “I will!”
“Good,” he said, loosening his grasp a little. “You are intelligent, my child.” His grip tightened again, and he pulled me to my feet. Hell’s skeletal arms went around my waist and pressed me up against him, constricting my breathing. One hand dug into my hair, forcing my head to rest against his shoulder. “Close your eyes,” he ordered, and I did, fearfully. I felt terribly ill all of a sudden, a feeling I knew well.
“Do I have another Demon?” I asked him softly, knowing the answer.
“Of course, my dear. You should not be surprised.” I am not.
He clenched me even tighter, and I choked. We began to spin very fast, sickeningly so. I shrank my body as far as I could, trying to get away from the sounds and smells of death that surrounded me all of a sudden. Hell was wrapped around me, partially in shadow form, and I burned in his fiery embrace.
It all stopped abruptly. Hell released me, and I staggered, clutching my aching head and my writhing stomach. When I could look up, there was nothing to see. Blackness pressed on me from every direction, and I cried out in fear.
Hell’s icy fingers, smelling of death, closed over my mouth. “Do not be frightened, child. You are not afraid of the dark when you are with your little husband, are you?” He called himself that only half in jest, for he had made me a present of a silver ring when I was very young. He allowed me to wear it on my left hand rather than my right, but both of us knew the wedlock it signified. Sometimes, when he felt he should punish me, the ring burned into my skin.
His hand left my mouth and slid smoothly down my arm to my hand. He wrapped his fingers around it and began to pull me purposefully. I stumbled along, not able to see in the blinding dark. A terrifying thought suddenly struck me.
“Am I dead?” I asked Hell. He stopped abruptly, turning and pulling me against his shadow body.
“Not dead, my sweet. You are simply in my house. Your body remains in your room, and if someone finds it, they will believe you to be dead. In truth, I have liberated your soul.”
“But I am dead to the world?” I ask, horrified at the concept.
“I suppose. You will no longer inhabit an earthly body, if that is what you are asking.”
In other words, I was dead. I am dead. I will not live again.
“I have decided,” Hell continued, beginning to move again, “that you shall stay with me for all eternity.”
“All…eternity?”
“Yes, my Desdemona.”
Desdemona is not my name. I have forgotten my name, for he calls me nothing else. It means ‘of the Devil’, which I am, in a way. He has never called me by any other proper name. His references of ‘dear’ and ‘sweet’ are merely his morbid, mocking sense of humor. He is incapable of the affection normally shown by these names.
He led me in the dark for a long time, until we came upon the first thing I had been able to see. It was a great river, blood red in color, and rushing quickly past. It seemed to glow, roiling and roaring as though it lived. Hell brought me to a small boat, in which was lurking a pool of shadow, such as I know a Demon to be. Hell pushed me down onto the seat of the boat and sat close beside me, his hand digging into my back. The Demon rose up into a hunchbacked figure and took up a great pole to push us across the river.
The turbulent, crimson water, though it rushed about us, had no effect on the boat’s journey. The river was vast, and it was many minutes before a great metal gate loomed into view. Hell lifted his free hand and the gate opened, allowing us to pass.
A great lake formed past this gate, and across the lake, there was a rocky shore, upon which was built a house. Such a house I have never seen! I looked up and up and up, and could not see the tops of the great spiraling turrets.
The house is made of the grimmest hard stone and metal. It is very foreboding to look at, as it is decked with hard stone gargoyles and gryphons. Everything is very sharp and deathly, and gives an impression of morbid death. The only colours are grey, black, and the blood red of the river.
Hell saw me looking, and said, “Welcome home, my sweet Desdemona. Welcome to the House of Hell.”
Anti-Hell pendants to reviewers--guarenteed to last this life and the next!