A Realm of Hell

Chapter 4

"What?"

She sighs, frustration heavily weighing her face.

"This is a long story, one that even I cannot explain fully but one you will live," she turns her whole body to face me, her eyes barring into my skin, "This is your choice. One that you will, unfortunately, have to make quickly. There will be no turning back. Do you understand this much?"

My answer is slow, "yes". 

"I am many things but the only one of any importance to you is that I am your enemy. I am the one that you were born to hate and kill," she stops a smile beginning to play on her lips. My breath ceases.

"But that is not why I brought you here," she continues, "You were born to hate and kill many people and it so happens we have a mutual enemy. One who is not so easily slain. That is why I need your help."

"How would I be of any help to you? Why me?" I ask.

"Yes, that is the question," her head tilts with mild curiosity, "if you were to fight darkness what would you use?"

"Light, of course"

"Almost," she says with a grin, "darkness is too powerful to be outshined. It has no problem snuffing out the light."

"Then, what would you use?" She smirks at my question.

"I'd use the shadows that the light casts. I'd creep up to the blind darkness," she says with an outstretched hand, "and over take it," tightly she fist her hand together. 

"I don't understand. What does this have to do with me?"

"Everything..."She gets up, walking to the window she stares into nothingness, "haven't you ever wonder why you were born?"

"My mother had me. There wasn't much of  a reason. It just happened."

"Maybe for most, but not for you," she turns back towards me, "you were planned, carefully organized to serve a purpose."

"What are you saying? Planned? My mother was poor and my father was absent, how was any of that planned?"

"Your father, the selfish bastard, planned everything. From the moment you drew your breath to sitting right in front of me."

"My father?" I ask, trying to recall the stories my mother once told me, "he was a soldier. He left and never returned"

Her bellowing laugh shocks me. I stare wide eyed as she slightly bends over, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

"A soldier?" She stutters in between fits, which would've annoyed me, if it wasn't beautiful, "Oh, he is most definitely a fighter but no soldier. The man could never stand behind anyone."

"Is?"

"Yes, is. The prick is still alive, unfortunately. Both of our jobs would be a hell of a lot easier if he wasn't...although you would probably not be alive."

"Wait," I say ignoring the last bit, "so my father is alive. Where is he?"

"Fuck if I know. I'm not his keeper," she mutters with an annoyed look, "don't worry I'm sure he'll come looking for you when it suits him."

"Well, I.." I stop, not knowing how to react. My father, one who I thought had been killed, is alive. I feel nothing. There is no excitement that blooms, no anger or resentment that shows it's face. Nothing.

Her head tilts as her eyes scan my face. A smile tugging at her corners, "you are much different than I expected, I quite like it." I stiffen when I begin to feel heat making it's way to my ears. I turn from her to face the door.

"Now that some of your questions have been answered I think that I am in need of a break," she says,walking into my line of sight, "would you care to join me outside?"

"Outside, but isn't it night?" I say looking out the window and seeing black.

"Not quite," she answers with a smile and an outstretched hand. I stare at it for a second. The dainty fingers concealing their true strength. Placing my hand in her's I am once again shocked by the heat. She smiles as if relieved and pulls me off the bed.

She leads me out the room. Walking quickly down the hall I have no time to even count the rooms we pass before hitting a set of stairs that lead up or down. She bounds down without letting me take a glance and as we come to the end she leads me out a large door. She swings it's powerful hinges and breaks me into the outside world.

"Welcome to my home," she exclaims still holding my hand. It takes me a moment to look away but when I do I am greeted with a dark sky. Not a single star peppers the blank canvas but as I turn to face the brick building I am struck by an enormous moon. So big that even the three story fortress doesn't compare. I stare at it in awe, it's light blinding.

"Where am I?" I breath.

"My home," she answers with a squeeze of my hand. I turn back toward her. The moon making her skin that much whiter. Never have I felt so unworldly.

"And where is your home?"

"My home's name is Nether," she says eyeing the moon.

"Nether? As in.." I hesitate, afraid of the answer.

"You are in Hell, my dear."