Paine's Guide to Hell

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

   “Angie!” The call echoed through the wide cavern, ricocheting off the domed roof and carrying over the agonized screams of the sinners burning in the river of flames below. The asked-for demon spared a brief, irritated glance in the direction of the voice before resuming her task of polishing the wickedly curved scythe that lay across her lap with a rag. She sat cross-legged on top of one of the numerous rock platforms that rose out of the inferno underneath, face a mask of indifference despite the blazing heat only yards away and the anguished cries on all sides.

   “Angie!” the speaker repeated, louder this time. When the girl gave no indication of having heard, he heaved an exasperated sigh and willed a pair of large, bat-like wings to unfurl from their folded position above his shoulder blades. He was quick to catch an updraft, feet lingering over the rock ledge that led to the cavern’s only exit for a moment before drifting farther upwards. He turned once in midair, and with a few deft wing beats, the male demon had soon reached his quarry.

   She shot him an unimpressed look, gaze momentarily flickering to his legs as they hovered just off the edge of her perch. “What is it this time, Oliver?” she asked calmly, levering herself to her feet so that their eyes were level. “And it’s Angeline to you.”

   “I think you need to get your hearing checked, Angie,” Oliver whined, blatantly ignoring her previous comment. “Seriously, I called you, like, twelve times.”

   “Not hearing and not responding are two very different things,” she pointed out flatly, dropping the rag and resting her now-free hand on her hip. “I do not like having to repeat myself: what do you want?”

   “Sometimes I think you have no sense of humor,” her companion pouted, idly fingering one of his stray blond curls. “I mean, you never-”

   Only reflexes honed by centuries of violence saved him from loosing both feet in the next instant. He yelped when Angie’s scythe sped towards his knees, quickly drawing his legs up to his chest to avoid the blade. A shriek sounded at his back, and he turned in time to catch a burning figure plummeting downwards; the flaming abyss had reclaimed its prisoner. Two club-like structures fell with it, and he realized with a gulp that they were in fact the unfortunate individual’s newly severed arms.

   Oliver raised his head slowly to observe the she-demon before him, warily eying the curved weapon as she brought it to rest at her side. They locked gazes, and he was taken aback slightly at the cool apathy he found in the others cat-like, golden irises.

   It made his blood boil in excitement.

   “As sexy as violence is…” he smirked, touching down on the platform. Unconsciously, his eyes had begun to take on a new, more dangerous light as he spoke. A few short steps brought him to her side, and he leaned in until his lips just brushed her ear. To her credit, Angie never so much as flinched under his advance, though her grip on the scythe did tighten marginally. His warm breath ghosted over her ear seductively, forcing her to hold back a shiver of discomfort. “Next time, a little warning would be much appreciated.”

   “I’ll be sure to do that.” The cold press of steel at his back signaled the end for his games, as the next moment he was drawing back, a placating smile on his face and hands raised in surrender.

   “It was a joke,” he said playfully, careful to avoid the raised blade only inches away. “You need to lighten up a bit.”

   “I oversee the sinners burning in the flames of Hell,” she retorted blandly. “And I have for the last three hundred years. I am assigned to throw people into the fire and ensure that they remain there through whatever means necessary. ‘Lightening up’ is not one of my top priorities.”