Capricorns and Devil Horns

Sympathy For The Devil

It was the fall that woke me.
When I was six, I'd had bunk beds, and, one night, I rolled right off of the edge of the top bunk and broke my arm. It was like that, only I'd rolled off of a fifty foot bunk bed and crashed onto a floor of ice.
My entire body was stabbed by the sub-zero air. That's if there was any air at all. Despite the cloud that escaped my lips when I exhaled through my mouth, the atmosphere surrounding me was thin, constantly giving the vague sensation of suffocation.
Blue. Everything around me was blue and cold and dark.
After what seemed like hours laying on the ground, I forced myself up and stumbled down the icy pathway.
A part of me was terrified I'd gone to the wrong place. This wasn't Hell. Hell was red hot and smokey and fiery and this was everything Hell wasn't supposed to be. And this certainly couldn't be Heaven.
I'd figured loving the Devil would be enough to earn me a place in Hell. Perhaps I didn't love him enough just yet. Or maybe he wasn't as bad as the book had made him out to be and loving him just wasn't enough of a sin. Sympathy for the Devil, eh?
I wandered aimlessly hoping the find something. Anything. Every corner I turned, I expected- or at least hoped- to see Morgan standing there. And not "Hospital Morgan". Morgan who stole my cereal every morning wearing nothing but a pair of novelty boxers. Morgan who bought Skip a black and yellow striped jumper because it made him look "bee-utiful". Morgan who dropped anything and everything he was holding to dance along to Take On Me.
It didn't occur to me until quite a while later that Morgan might not be coming. That he might've forgotten how to thanks to that bloody medication. Or that he simply didn't care enough. But, once the thought entered my mind, I couldn't shake it at all.
I eventually came to a bridge. After miles and miles of the exact same surroundings, this gave me a small glint of hope. The bridge connected two large, crumbling grey cliffs that were otherwise separated by a violent, vicious sea. The loud crashing of waves made a change to the deafening silence, although it wasn't comforting. It didn't sound peaceful like the serene turquoise seas at home did. No- the murky midnight water sounded like suffering and anguish. I gulped, eyeing the rotting rope bridge. The gaps between the damp wooden steps were widely-spaced- especially for someone with little legs like me. For a second, I thought about praying that I would reach the other side in one piece, before realising just how ironic that was. So I took the first step, clinging onto the rope, feeling a jolt of fear in my chest at the instability of it.
Fuck.
Come on, Nora. You can do this. What are you scared of? You can't die...
The song fell from my lips, a way of coping. Usually, I'd laugh at the irony, but I couldn't find a place for humour in my mind just then.
"Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting
Little darling, it feels like years since it's been clear
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
And I say, it's alright
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
It's alright, it's alright."
I reached the end of the bridge and the other cliff. Finally having returned the steady(er) ground, I took a few seconds to collect myself.
"Little darling," I froze, "it's been a long cold lonely winter"
Morgan.
I spun on my heel to face him at the edge of the cliff on the other side of the bridge. He was still in his hospital get-up, but his hair was back down to his shoulders and he smiled. No, not a smile- a smirk.
"Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here"
I let out a breath of relief, hoping all the way up to the high heavens that he wasn't just a figment of my imagination. That he wasn't just some perdition-induced hallucination. That, after hours of aimlessly wandering this icy desert, he wasn't just a cruel mirage.
"Morgan!" I bellowed in desperation.
"Your Über has arrived, Dear!" He yelled back, hands curved around his mouth like a speaker.
I just collapsed. Collapsed in frustration. Collapsed in exhaustion. Collapsed in relief. On my knees- in Hell.
"You wandered far enough! Y'know this place is designed like a maze- you should've left a trail of breadcrumbs!"
A throaty rumble escaped my mouth- some kind of laugh- before I picked myself back up again.
"I'm coming back!" I told him.
"No!" He roared before I could even put one foot in front of the other.
"What? Why not?"
"This bridge can only be walked upon by a person once."
To illustrate his point, he pried an icicle from a nearby frosted rock and launched it at the bridge, which immediately fell fully-intact into the swirling abyss of water.
"What's the point in that?"
"Bad architect."
I rolled my eyes.
"Not now, Morgan. How do I get back across?"
"You seem to forget I'm basically Superman."
I furrowed my brows but Morgan's smug smile did not falter. He took a few steps back from the cliff edge and stuck his arms out behind him like he was a little boy playing superheroes. With a running start, he leapt. He fucking leapt. Like an impala, he sprung over the twenty foot drop. It was surreal to see my room-mate soaring through the air with the grace of the world's finest ballerina- especially after seeing him jelly-armed dad-dance along to the entire Dirty Dancing Soundtrack.
He landed without so much as a stumble and pulled me into a bone-crushing hug.
"I thought Superman was an alien, not an angel." I laughed.
"They're more alike than you may think." He murmured into my hair with a smile.
He then pulled me away by my shoulders and searched my face.
"God, I fucking missed you." He gushed.
I smiled.
"I missed you too, Morgan."
Without thinking, I took his face in my hands and crashed my lips to his in the most desperate kiss I'd ever shared with anyone. So overcome with emotion, I didn't know what else to do with myself.
Two and a half months before, I'd been sat in my bedroom singing to my dog, and now I was making out with the Devil himself in the icy depths of Hell. The scariest thing was, I had no idea which one I preferred.
Morgan was the one to pull away again, but didn't look disgusted or angry or confused. He was just grinning, as per usual.
"Fuck me, I needed that." He breathed, "Now come on. The sooner we get back to our bodies the better. That bitchy stone-faced nurse could've found us by now."
Before I could say anything else, Morgan scooped me up in his arms bridal style and leapt again. I winced, burying my face into his shoulder and clung on to him. This was not an experience I ever wished to replicate.
We walked back the way I'd come. Morgan said we needed to be as far away from the centre of Hell as possible to be able to return to our bodies.
"So, what do you think?" He asked with a big, dopey grin, as if I'd just opened the Christmas present he'd gotten me.
"What do I think?"
"About Hell. Pretty cool, right?"
"Certainly cool..."
"I thought you'd be impressed by my designer skills- you're an artist yourself."
"You designed Hell? I though God banished you here."
"No, Father Dearest banished me to somewhere much worse than this. As much as I hate to admit it, the Old Man has always been much more sick and twisted when it comes to punishment than I. He exiled me to I place I called "The Only". The dead-centre of Hell, I built my kingdom around it. It was only that I knew the ins and outs of the place so well that I was able to escape after millennia of being ostracised from all of my angel chums. My first visit to Earth was in the 1870s- an unthinkable amount of time since before the beginning of comprehendable time. But, still, I'm over it. I'm not bitter."
I rolled my eyes again:
"Sounds like it..."
"Okay this should be far enough." He said, suddenly sitting cross-legged on the ground.
I flinched a little at the cold beneath me, but did the same.
"So, how do we actually get back to our bodies?"
"Think of it as astral projection."
"Like an out of body experience?"
"Exactly."
"But aren't we already out of body?"
"Again, exactly. We want to control the spirit- not the body."
"How could I control my body anyway? It's currently dead."
"Because it is without spirit."
"I don't get this." I murmured.
"You don't have to get it." He snapped, "You just have to do as I say."
"Fine."
"Good lass. Now lay back, close your eyes, and relax completely."
Braving the cold ground, I did as I was told and loosened all of my muscles.
"Now, think about what your body looks like. Start with just one small thing- like a finger or a toe. Picture it as in-depth as you can. See it moving. Imagine what it feels like to touch. And, slowly move on to the rest of your body. See yourself sit up without actually moving. See yourself stand up and walk. Then feel yourself do it. Just don't move, okay?"
"Okay." I said, "Morgan?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
There was another prolonged silence.
"I love you too. See you on the other side."
"See you..." I whispered.
It was like dreaming. Lucid dreaming. I was in control, but I knew it was really happening. I hadn't actually gotten up.
In front of me was Hell in all it's dark, dingy, desolate glory. And, over my shoulder, was Morgan's hospital room. It was like being the fourth wall in a sitcom. Only nothing was funny. I was there, a nasty gash down the length of my forearm, covered in and surrounded by a pool of my own blood. Morgan laid on the floor beside me, my crimson blood soaking into his pristine white sleeve. He looked so peaceful. I'd heard him snore every night, but I'd never actually seen him sleeping. He was almost as beautiful asleep than he was awake.
I inched closer to us, reaching out to my arm in disbelief. But, as soon as skin touched skin, I was no longer looking at myself and Morgan laying limp and lifeless on the floor. Instead, I was jolting awake, only to see the chair I'd propped under the door.
I was back.
Though it felt like I'd been gone hours- perhaps even an entire day- the clock above the door read 4:35pm- only seventeen minutes after I'd arrived back at the hospital. A lot had happened in seventeen minutes...
There was no time to collect my thoughts, before Morgan gasped beside me, bolting upright.
"Morgan!"
"We made it." He panted, "We made it alive. Well, the next best thing..."
"What?"
"No time to explain just now, Dear. We need to clean up then get me out of here as soon as possible!"