The Devil in the Black Suit

Welcome to Hell

Chapter Three

Welcome to Hell

“Why in Dante’s name did you keep that little brat alive?” snaps a shrill female voice.

How much time has passed since James injected me with the venom, I cannot say.  All I know is that we are on the move.  My head bobs up and down, hanging over someone’s shoulder.  James’s shoulder.  I feel his leathery wings against my cheek.

“I don’t know,” says James, in that silky voice that I am growing to recognize.  “I couldn’t bring myself to kill her.  She looks so much like me; it would be like killing myself.”

“You’re going to get into trouble,” says the woman.  “You have to report this.”

“Maybe,” James muses.  “But I would like to get her home first and settle things there.”

Home?  That explains the heat rising off of the ground, tickling my skin like tiny flames.  The screeching of crows and vultures overhead.  We were in Hell, a place I had only known of from books and old tales passed down from generation to generation.

The demons seem to think I am still unconscious, and I want to keep it that way.  So I keep my eyes closed and let my body hang limp in James’s arms.  If he has dared keep me alive this long, then maybe my luck will turn around.  Maybe I will live to see Heaven again.

“You know the boss isn’t going to be happy about this,” says the woman, her voice catching on the word ‘boss.’

“What do I care what the Demon King thinks?” James says.  “This angel is my counterpart and therefore she is my business.”

“So what do you plan to do with her?”

“I’m not sure yet,” he says.  “Maybe you’ll finally get that maid you’ve been asking for.”

“A slave,” the woman muses.  “How cliché.”

“I’m sure we’ll find some use for her, Maleka,” James says.

As I gradually regain consciousness, it seems as though we have reached James’s home.  I hear the metallic jangling of keys pushed into locks, and a heavy door swings open.  As we cross the threshold, an overwhelming smell of cinnamon and clove hits my nose.  I crack my eyes open a fraction and see smoke pooled at the ceiling, where candles and incense sticks are burning at a lazy pace.

I can’t help but moan as I feel the dull throbbing in my body.  A side effect from the demon’s poison, no doubt.  The base of my neck feels like it is stuck with a thousand needles and the back of my eyes tingle from the smoke.  For a moment, I worry that the demons will realize that I am awake.  But for now, fortunately, it seems they haven’t.

My body bounces as I am carrying up a flight of stairs, and I hear another door open.  Suddenly, we stop, and I am flipped off of James’s shoulder.  I expect to crash onto the floor but yelp when I fall too soon onto a soft, bouncy surface.  A bed.

I snap my eyes open, a tremor passing through my body.  James has thrown me onto his bed.  Immediately, I expect the worst.  Hugging my knees to my chest, I wrap my wings around my body in hopes of protecting myself.

James starts like I am some sort of unruly animal.  “Whoa now, I thought you were still sleeping it off,” he says, holding his hands out in front of him, his feathers askew.

“Stay away from me, Demon!” I shout, and I don’t know where the courage has come from, because fear is running like blood through my veins.

“Demon?”  Suddenly, he laughs: a warm, throaty sound.  “Do you really think I am a demon?”