When Heaven And Hell Aligned

Chapter Six: The Final Chapter

Eyes reeling, blood pumping, vision blurred. This was all Carter could feel. A fogged haze sat over his half-closed eyes, through which he watched Curtis being dragged away from him across a black stone floor. His limbs struggled to fight against the thick arms pulling him, trying to reach for Carter, but his dazed eyes revealed his desolation and broken, lost hope. As Carter's cracked voice croaked a shattered protest, his throat parched of the air to give the words proper voice, he felt more arms on his own body. He was scraped across the cold, black flagstones he'd been sat on and taken into another room; a thick, dark, oaken door was slammed shut across his vision, blocking out his sight of Curtis as he struggled. The last thing he saw was a woman, standing tall on long, muscular legs with curves that stood out from the dark purple, velvet dress she wore, tight around her erect, commanding posture and flaring out at her pale ankles. She looked back at him with wolf's eyes; hungry, but uncaring, and dark.

  Metal clanked and clattered. Carter looked up, and saw thick, iron bars stood before him, locked shut. He was in a small, squat cell where he had been dragged, with dark grey, stone walls at his side and back. Glowering at the bars and holding his head with a sigh, he tried to piece together what had happened. His aching skull was filled with a clouding, murky, fogging sensation, like a smoke machine was trapped inside it.

  After a few minutes of furious concentration, grappling against the hazy feeling, Carter managed to regain a clear head. His focus heightened as he remembered the events of his arrival in the dank, cold cell; the red light of the Devils flashed in his mind's eye once more. The light, encompassing and absorbing, had taken him, Curtis and the Devils from the field to the first room. It must have been some kind of teleportation spell, Carter grumbled internally. But a teleportation to where? Frowning, Carter remembered Bahram had been brought too. He had seen him in the room too, but he had been unconscious, un-struggling against the vicious arms that took him away. Picturing the event, Carter saw a thin stream of liquid scarlet, glittering like rubies flowing down Bahram's forehead. Blood. One of the Devils must have knocked him out, Carter reflected. I hope that's all they did. 

  Hours could have passed in the cell; Carter had no way of knowing, and his thoughts were in a hot turmoil too disarrayed to measure by time. In all my time of wandering and relocating, at least I've always known where I am, he thought, rubbing the back of his neck as he tucked his knees into his chest, but this place...this is completely foreign. Where the Hell am I?

  His eyes widening suddenly, Carter craned his neck to see through the bars. A noise had whispered in his ears; the noise of boots treading across the stone floor, distant, but growing closer. In moments, the boots drew up before him; black, leather ankle boots, with steel-capped toes embellished with skulls worked into the metal. Another pair stalked behind them, prowling round and standing beside them. Looking up and swallowing, Carter looked at the owners of the boots: two women, both extremely tall, towering over him even if he had been standing; one had long, dark brown hair, run through with tracks of red, scraped across her skull into a dead straight ponytail that dangled inches away from her back. Her bony face was lightly tanned, her cheekbones large and round, flowing down into a tight jaw with sternly set lips, and her small, dark brown eyes, fringed with bushing black lashes, were pointed at Carter like daggers. The second woman mirrored the look in steel blue eyes, aiming it at him. Her hair was short, well shaped, and blonde. Her pointed, pert lips were blood red, closed tightly. Both women were dressed completely in black. Their bodies had mass proportional to their height; their arm muscles were pronounced and rounded, their torsos tense and well built, their thick legs stocky and powerful. Carter supposed they were Demons; though he was puzzled as to why they were using glamours.

  A moment later, a third woman walked up, with steps slower and more loaded with foreboding than the first two. Her feet, milk white, were bare, landing on the cold stone with almost inaudible delicacy, like the pads of a panther's paws as it closes in on its prey. She was the woman Carter had seen in the room he had first entered; tall, built like a swan, but eyes dripping with spider's venom, green and penetrating. Her hair was ebony black, falling across her body in swirling tresses.