Hell's Rayne (Book 1)

Chapter 8

The dark stone tunnels passed in a blur as we hastily followed the jailers leading Shane to the Pits. Small spheres of dark orange flame were suspended, intermittently, along the curved stone ceiling, casting a warm, oily glow about the tunnel; though they more effectively heated the air than lit the path. The flaming spheres were the only source of illumination through the long, dark tunnels; thankfully though I'd walked the paths many thousands of times and I could tread the route from the Receiving Chamber to the Pits blind.

 I walked beside Malick – the hallways wide enough to just walk two abreast – as we followed the main tunnel; ignoring the many dark archways and forks that led off in all directions. The tunnels all led to different levels of Hell, to more tunnels and chambers that all had their own individual purposes, some were working areas, or record halls, many others were living quarters for all of the different breeds of demon that Hell housed. Though, everyone knew, it was down in the Pits where the real action happened.

 It was an effort to keep up with Malick's swift pace and, despite relishing in the heat from being home again, I could feel a sheen of sweat as it started to form on my skin from the exertion. My boots rang loudly on the polished black obsidian floor and Malick scowled at the noise. I choked back a snicker – annoying Malick was always a good source for amusement – but I couldn't stifle the yelp that escaped my lips when I missed the first step. The flight of steps was the first of many that led down into the deepest levels of Hell and I should have known it was there.

 Maybe I didn't remember the path quite as well as I thought. I slipped down the first two steps and instinctively reached out to steady myself, grabbing a hold of Malick's monk-like robe for stability. He stumbled slightly but quickly composed himself and snatched his robe from my grasp. He glared down at me, black eyes twinkling malevolently in the orange glow.

 “Can you conduct yourself with some decorum Rayne,” he snapped and with a shake of his head he hurried off down the steps without me.

 “Nice work Rayne, give Malick even more reason to dislike you,” I muttered to myself as I got back to my feet and proceeded, at a slightly more sedate pace, down the flight of stairs.

 The corridors and stairs seemed endless but, eventually, the tunnel opened out into a vast, high cavern. The walls and floor were of the same unpolished red granite from which the rest of Hell was carved, but the whole place stretched so long and wide it was impossible to track the walls all the way around the cavern; they appeared to stretch off into infinity and I'd never even think of trying to walk to the other side. Many thousands of tunnels and chambers led off of the main space, I'd explored a very tiny percentage of them in all of my almost three centuries in Hell and in some ways I was almost afraid to know what some of the others might hold. The main area of the Pits, however, I knew very well; and from first glance it was obvious how it had earned its name.

 The rusty red floor was pocked in numerous spots by huge pits dug deep into the ground. They served as holding cells for all of the evil souls and each one held a torment chosen to best 'suit' its inhabitants. New pits would appear all the time in order to accommodate every new incoming soul and I was pretty certain that the massive cavern was enchanted in some way to be ever expanding, if that was the right term, truly infinite in size; there had to be some sort of trick to it.

 My destination was Execution Square, straight ahead from the tunnels exit. The gallows that occupied the square at that moment were hard to miss, and, as I drew closer, I could see Shane perched, pale and naked, on the platform. Execution Square was the largest expanse of solid ground in the Pits and a massive crowd had already gathered, packing it to capacity.

 Shane stood and covered himself with his hands once again. He was quiet, and vaguely trembling, but there was a wide-eyed disbelief on his face as if he were still convinced it was all just a horrible nightmare; in denial right up to the end, it happened rather a lot.