Abaddon (Demonology III)

VI

FINN

I followed the little girl, who revealed herself to be named Celine, at a brisk pace through the Paris slums. A foul smell lingered strongly in the air the closer we got to her home. I couldn't tell if the bodies laying on the streets were dead or asleep. Fire escapes were covered in pots, a dreary attempt at collecting water. Shock and excitement battled for superiority in my gut as I got closer to seeing Luna.

  "When did you first meet Luna?" I asked Celine. I left out the fact that Luna was supposed to be dead, deciding that it would be better to bring it up after I consulted with Luna herself. 

  "A few days after the Ca . . . Cataclysm." Celine shook her head in frustration. Her French accent was not as thick as some of the others I had heard, and she first spoke to me English, suggesting that she also had heritage elsewhere, possibly the States. "The King was destroying the city, and my parents got stuck in a store that was on fire. She helped pull them out. Are you . . . are you magic like her?"

  I raised a brow. She didn't seem to recognize me. It made sense, as I didn't see a single newspaper or working television in the city. It was comforting, though, to meet someone who wouldn't look up at me with starry eyes like I was some superhero. She wouldn't expect me to magically fix everything, and she wouldn't berate me for not doing so. 

  "The fire didn't hurt her. Nothing does, really. She says she's not a human like me and you, but she's nice." She gave me a weak smile.

  "I'm guessing you know a lot of humans with orange eyes." I said sarcastically with a laugh.

  "My mom has a saying 'it ain't nice to judge people by their cover.'" She blushed and gave a shrug. Definitely American, I thought to myself. Southerner too. I thought back to my North Carolina home. The old two story wasn't much of a looker, but it was home. If I concentrated hard enough, I could get phantom smells of mildew and pine.

  "Well, that's a good thing to carry with you in life." I gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I've met a lot of people in life that I mistook for my friends, for my family. I always learned who they really were when it was too late."

  "Um, monsieur Finn, what are you doing in France? You sound American?" Celine was appearing to be softer and softer with each word that came out of her mouth. I guessed I had warmed up to her fast.

  "You asked earlier if I was magic. Yes, I am, in a way. I'm travelling around. Hiding a bit."

  "What are you hiding from?"

  "I . . . to be honest, I don't know what I've been so scared of." I forgot for a second that I was talking to a little girl, not Lilith. I almost went into a full on rant about my disastrous life, but i digressed. "I'm working through it though." I gave her a reassuring smile, though I didn't know why I felt the need to comfort her.

  "This is it." Celine said in front of what looked like a typical French building. It was five stories, and had a balcony on the top level. The roof was angled inward along its length. "We live on the first floor now, because the top floors are unsafe. The fires burnt up the floors and walls." I gave a nod and acted like I was paying attention. My eyes darted around the building in search of Luna. It looked like a homeless shelter. There were people sleeping on the lobby floors shooting Celine and I dirty looks as we walked past. 

  "Not enough apartment space for everyone?" I asked. I felt my stomach tighten when I saw a baby lying wrapped in blankets, snot running from its nose incessantly. I was no expert on health, but I didn't think infants should ever get that sick. 

  "Well, I'm sure if everyone on the first few floors pitched in we could take in most of them." Celine answered in a quieter voice. "But . . . we're trying to survive. My father works all day outside of Paris, trying to make enough money to move us out. If we had other people living with us, we just wouldn't have enough money. The other tenants feel the same way. Well I guess we're not even tenants anymore. There's no landlord. We have to make our own power, create fires for our food, and collect our own water."

  We reached a large iron gate. On the wall next to it was a panel of names and buttons, the kind used to call up to let someone buzz you in. One of the people lying on the floor suddenly got up and darted towards us as Celine put the key in the gate's lock. On instinct, I held up a hand, causing him to freeze in place. 

  "Thank you." Celine muttered. "I usually have to stab them." She twisted the key and opened the gate a crack, allowing us to slip through before she quickly shut and locked it. "It's not right, I know, but things are too hard here for us to be worried about others." A knot formed in my throat as her words washed over me. Just a couple of days prior, I was saying the same thing about this world. The Cataclysm had affected her in the same way it did to me. 

  "Yeah, I understand." Was all I said. The first floor of apartments were still in pretty good shape. Aside from some peeling paint and rust on the doors, there was no sign of any decay. We reached Celine's home, apartment A9. Inside was also pretty neat. There were vanilla scented candles right by the front door. The floors were clear and looked freshly mopped. From the entrance I could see the kitchen. It was covered in black tiles and marble all over. There was no stove, microwave or fridge, but rather a pit cut in the tiles that looked like a fire pit, and an ice box.

  "Mama, Papa, I'm home." Celine called. "Luna, I have a friend here I think you know." 

  "Who?" Three different voices answered, only one of them masculine. Eager footsteps sounded from deep inside the apartment, and out she came.

  She looked paler than I remembered, but aside from that she was the same. Her dark hair hung well past her shoulders. Her eyes still had that intensity to them. Her low cheekbones didn't have their signature blush, and her lips were pinker, but it was her.

  "Oh my god." Luna gasped. "Finn? Is it really you?"

  "Kinda." I laughed and embraced her. It had to have been a year now since our last encounter. She had saved my life after my fall from Heaven, showed me the true nature of my evil aunt Wynne, and followed me and Clay headstrong right into Hell. Right to her death.

  "How are you even here?" I asked her. Last I had seen her, she was with her parents in Hell. 

  "I . . . jeez so much happened. I'll take it from after you left Hell."