Escaping Hell

Finding Alexandria

Alexandria isn't just the name of a place. It's the name of my best friend; Alexandria Ford. She knows a ton about this whole "spirit, demon, angel" mojo, so maybe she can help me figure out who or what was able to pull me out of hell.

Now, when you grow up in a household where "prison" is a common term, you know a few things about how to steal cars. I spot a 1971 Jensen Interceptor behind this crappy motel, and I decide, "Well, I was already in hell. Who gives a shit. Go for it."

Once I'm on my way to Alexandria's house, I turn on the radio and try to look for some good music. There isn't anything good to listen to, so I turn the radio off in a moment of sheer disappointment. I just made it out of hell without being Satan's bitch. Don't I get at least one good Van Halen song? Come on!

Alexandria would never believe it's me, and I know that. She always told me she was a demon hunter or something; I better be careful in how I present myself at her house. If there is anybody who is willing to listen to my escaping from damnation story, it's Alexandria Ford. Not only will her smart ass listen to me, she'll also help me. She'll interrogate me like a Russian prison warden first, yes, but she'll still help me.

I park the Interceptor right in front of her house, and I walk up to the front door. Her doorbell is disconnected, so I push the button for the intercom. It buzzes, and I wait for her to respond.

"Hello?" Alexandria asks.

"Hey, Alex. It's me, Lucy," I reply.

"Quit messing with me. She died last year. Now fuck off before I call the cops on you," she angrily commands.

"Listen, Alex. It's me. Just come to the door. Please?" I beg. Oh, I haven't seen her in so long. I wish I had found more time to talk to her instead of worrying about things that didn't matter. I hear footsteps stomping down the stairs, and then Alex forces her front door open.

Her jaw drops, and her hand immediately goes over her mouth.

"Oh...Lucy..." she quivers.

"Hey. I'm back," I tell her, tears welling up in my eyes.

"But...no, that's impossible. You're not Lucy. You aren't Lydia. You are just some sick bastard; you probably stole her body right out of her grave, you son of a bitch," Alexandria yells, pinning me to her wall and putting a knife up to my neck.

"Alex. Listen," I gasp, "If you want to know if I'm me or not, throw holy water on me, make me bleed a little with that knife, whatever. I'd do all of it just for a five-minute conversation with you."

She presses the knife harder to my neck, and a tear leaves my eye. I feel a small trickle of blood, and then she lets go of me.

"If you move, I'm going to kill you. Wait there," Alexandria orders, backing up slowly to get her holy water. She then quickly tosses the liquid at me, and of course, there are no side-effects. I am as human as her.

"So...do you believ-" I get out before she drops the knife and hugs me tighter than she ever has before.

"Are you okay? How the heck are you alive? I mean, I saw the scene of your death...I felt for your pulse myself, I saw you in your casket at the funeral...where were you?" Alex asks.

"Well, uh, I was in Hell itself," I admit.

"What? You were in Hell?!" Alex asks, bewildered.

"Yeah. Burning like a piece of wood in a fire."

"What got you out?"

"I was hoping you could help me figure that out."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm not a hunter. I work for hunters. They need weapons and leads on demons, so I supply them. It doesn't pay much, but it is a fun side job, I'll admit. Well, besides the ghosts that sometimes take refuge in my house."

"Well where's a hunter who can help me?" I ask.

"His name is Sean. He is new around here, but he knows what he's doing when he does it," Alexandria tells me, "He is staying at the motel on Fredrick Street, room 456."

I nod.

"You need to go. Now. Go see him," she commands, and forces me out of the house without another word.

I don't feel bad about her just pushing me out like that, to be honest. Her job is tricky and she probably shouldn't be seen with a somewhat-recently-deceased woman. It would raise suspicion in a community of hunters.

I get back in the Interceptor, and I head to find Sean. I need to know what got me out; if I'm gonna end up turning into Teen Wolf, I want to know beforehand, because I'd rather go back to Hell than look like young Michael J. Fox.

Sean...that name just sounds so familiar...