To Heaven and Hell

Chapter 20

Luca's night

Eden looks devastatingly beautiful in her white gown. The fabric tugs at her soft curves and highlights her soft skin. The way she twirled in the light made several people glance over. I wanted to growl at their perverted stares.

But now her light features are framed by dark damp looking light. "I promise I'm not going to be kidnapped. Plus, you took care of them. Join their bet." She's pleading with me. I can tell by the slight glare in her eyes that her pink lips are dying for the sharp taste of a drink. Eden skirts around several people to the dark bar lit by little light. I chuckle at the fact that Eden is hitching up her skirt so people won't dare to step on it.

I look back towards to the round table Eden had mentioned. There are several men bent over it speaking in strained whispers. It looks like a bet, just as Eden has said, but there is no cash or valuables laid about the table. I don't think anything is on the line. There's a loud sound as I pull a chair forward. The scraping sound draws each pair of eyes to me.

"Gentlemen." I say simply. I watch as each man watches me warily, I have that effect. "What is the urgent news?"

"Hell." A brave one offers. His hair is greasy like he constantly runs his fingers through it. A cigarette dangles from his lips.

"Is that so?" I want them to get straight to the point, no messing around.

"Yeah." Another one joins in. He has a slight scar above his lip. "Haven't you noticed? Something is wrong here, even more fucked up than usual."

Cigarette man nods. "There's something weird, that's for sure. But how much are you willing to pay for information?"

"How about not ripping your throat out?" I growl.

A third man pipes up quickly. "Evan, don't do that. Just tell him."

The cigarette man leans back forward. "Something is happening to the whole place. The students, faculty, the whole goddamned area. It's like something messed up, bad."

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Of course everything is getting messed up. I've been here for over sixty years, wouldn't I have noticed?

"Not yet." The final man with sharp cheek bones adds. I can't tell his ethnicity, maybe Italian. "But it will be, especially for you."

"What does that mean?"

"Do you remember Alyssa? She has purple hair, hard to miss. She's my cousin." Cheekbones continues.

"No, and?"

"She's got a boyfriend, a complete asshole. He fucks around with the insiders." Cheekbones is swirling his drink with a used toothpick.

"That's nice. Listen, since this conversation lacks anything interesting I might as well find my girlfriend." I push my chair back.

"That's it man. My cousin's boyfriend was laughing about some pathetic joke. You might want to find that girlfriend of yours." Cheekbone blurts in a rush.

What? I throw my arm forward and push a bystander to the side, where the fuck is she? I don't see a patch of blonde hair anywhere near the bar. It's like something messed up bad, repeats in my head.

They can't do this. I won't let them.

**

Halls on halls on halls on halls. Their twisting pattern is ultimately infuriating. I'm not even looking at which way I take to get further into the mess.

The halls are so like the ones I have seen before. Except the ones I remember are far dirtier with words etched on them. Some writings not even finished, their thought cut short. There were handprints on the wall. Some where dragged from the ceiling to the floor. But where I am the hallways are pristine. Where the wall hit the floor it is etched in craftsmanship. Fuck, I keep remembering my past. That happens when I'm desperate. That happens when I am weak. I must not be weak.