The Third Throne: Angel of Darkness (20 page)

She reached out to touch one and it cracked and shattered beneath her finger, crashing to the ground.  Throughout the entire realm, the icicle flames splintered and collapsed to the ground.  The ominous sounds of ice exploding and tinkling were followed by a deafening silence.  The prisoners were stunned and looked around for an explanation.

Michelle looked up at Malcolm, who was speechless.  He surveyed the damage in disbelief.  As confused as Michelle was, she used the strange phenomenon to her advantage.  She lifted her chin and smirked at Malcolm as if to say,
see what I can do
.  He merely nodded, dumbfounded.  She walked over the souls who were cowering in the ice remains and stepped out of the realm.  She fanned out her dress and regally walked past Malcolm straight for the Hall of Winds.

∞

Mark was summoned to Hell by Sebastian regarding the transfer of a prisoner who should have been placed in Purgatory, a fairly common occurrence. It was the opportunity he needed to find the girl and deliver Gabriel’s message.  He tried to dispel his fear as he entered the gates, but could not stop himself from shaking.

He twitched while phantom pains raced along his wing where Lucifer’s teeth had torn through it.  He had never been so humiliated in his life.  He hated that he now feared his job.  He had been violated and it made him overly sensitive to all the screaming and moaning.  He felt ill and desperately wanted to leave and never return.  The only thing that kept his feet glued to the spot was the thought of Lucifer winning.  He would not let Lucifer have the upper hand.  He would not allow it.  He needed to be brave, face the demon, and spit in his eye, though metaphorically speaking, of course, as he was not brave enough to actually spit on him.

“Glad to see you finally made it, brother,” Sebastian glared at Mark, showing that his patience was gone, as always.

“Problems, brother?  I am not that late,” Mark bowed out of courtesy to Sebastian and tucked his sparkling white wings into his back.  Not only did he hate getting soot on them, but he also didn’t want Sebastian to see that his wing was now malformed.  It had not recovered properly after the attack.  Raphael told him that it had scarred because Lucifer was allowed to inflict punishment upon disobedient angels within his realm.  He tended to leave permanent marks when he hurt angels and non-mortals as a reminder of their crimes.  Hades had confessed to having scars on his body, a fact that was supposed to make Mark feel better, though it did not.  He was ashamed of his misshapen wing.  It was a sign of weakness, which was not a problem in Heaven, though it did not help, but weakness in Hell could get you killed.

“If you only knew.  Now let’s get this over with before the next emergency comes along, which undoubtedly will be in the next five minutes,” Sebastian always had an edge of boredom in his voice that could quickly turn to anger if things didn’t go smoothly.  Things never went smoothly.

“Very well.  You mentioned that there was a soul who slipped through the cracks and landed here instead of Purgatory.  Just bring him along and I will deal with him.  I will make sure that Lyrik is given the prisoner’s proper scroll, and have him correct the error about descending into Hell.  The prisoner will be listed as Purgatory and then he is Lyrik’s problem,” Mark tried to make the transition easy for Sebastian, but knew the effort was wasted.

“Yes, if only things were so easy in the real world.  Do you know what a nuisance it is to pull someone out of a realm and explain to them that they have been sent to Hell because of a paperwork error?  This guy is going to be pissed that he has been freezing in the Realm of Frost for the past three months, when he should have been sitting in a room with absolutely nothing to do until the next life comes around.  Do you have any idea how indignant these prisoners are when they find out they have been tortured for something they didn’t do?  They demand compensation and retribution.  They should be lucky that we found the error at all.  Do you think it’s rude that I soothe him by giving him a nice warm hat?” Sebastian smirked at his idea of being nice.

Mark knew that counting backwards from ten was the best way to keep his tongue in check when he was around the Fallen.  He had never experienced the darkness or the loneliness that twisted his brothers into monsters, so he took their humor with a grain of salt.

“I will smooth things over with him brother, you need not bother.  As I said, I will handle things.  Just have someone bring him here and I will make the transition as painless as I can,” Mark tried for patience, but came across a little smug, he realized.  He did not mean to imply he could do the job better; he was merely trying to make a quick exit with the prisoner, while trying to figure out how to get Gabriel into Hell.

“Very well, brother, I shall wave my magic wand, make the prisoner appear, and let you be the hero.  Wait here.  I shall return as quickly as possible, so that you may save the day,” Sebastian rolled his eyes, gave a waving bow to his brother, and walked backward out of the Hall of Winds through the archway that led to the Realm of Frost.

Mark knew Sebastian would intentionally keep him waiting forever.  This time he was grateful for the time allotted him.  The other angels in the hall were busy processing the souls and ignored him.

He stood at the entrance to the hall not sure how to find the girl.  He thought about sneaking into the Throne Room in the hopes of seeing her there.  He could always make up a reason to speak to Lucifer or Hades, if he ran into them.  He paced for a few moments trying to think of the best way to enact his plan.  He decided to be brave and take the pathway that led directly to the castle, though he would have to pass Xavier in the process.  His white suit was easy to spot among the washed out mortal clothing, so he would have to move fast.

He took a deep breath to settle himself and commanded his feet to move in the direction of the archway halfway down the hall.

Mark stopped mid step. A small girl dressed in black came bounding through an archway further down the hall. He squinted, hoping to see the blue eyes that he was searching for.  He rejoiced when he saw long raven hair coupled with the blue eyes.

He noticed she was fuming with anger and appeared murderous.  He was surprised to see the change in her demeanor. It seemed that Hell was indeed having a negative effect on her. He decided to treat her with caution.  He didn’t need to end up bleeding again.

Michelle looked at the beleaguered faces waiting to leave Hell.  They looked like they had just survived a battle, but weren’t happy about it.  While they weren’t tattered and torn, like in the realms, their expressions gave away the memory of their suffering.  She could totally relate.  Even though her body was healed from all the tortures, her mind wasn’t.  She knew they would never wipe away the memories of her torture.  Unlike those lucky souls who didn’t have to remember every excruciating detail of what they had endured, she would be made to remember.  She felt like crying, but held strong.  She would be strong now for CJ, for Uncle Bob, and for herself.

She had no idea how she had frozen the Realm of Fire.  As grateful as she was to be out the flames, she was afraid of what it meant.  Destroying Hades’ tower and retaliating against the fire were impossible feats, she knew that, but something was different about her, she could feel it.  Whatever was inside of her was terrifying, and something that shouldn’t be released.  She didn’t want to mess with it unless she was left with no other alternative.  If Hades tried to touch her again, she would freeze is balls off, but short of that, she had to control it.

Michelle breathed deeply; glad to be away from everyone for a few minutes.  She needed time to think.  She touched her cheek, waiting for the pain to remind her that she was still at everyone’s mercy, including the enemies of Lucifer, but instead of dried blood and exposed skin, she felt smooth, flawless skin.  She patted her cheek, confused.  It was healed.  The wound was gone as if it had never happened.  She felt no pain as she squeezed it.  She was puzzled by all the things happening to her, but became even more determined to use it to her advantage.  She didn’t want to be anyone’s pawn or whipping post anymore.

The Fallen in the Hall of Winds looked confused when they saw her, but ignored her and went about their business.  She held her head high and pretended as if she was supposed to be there.

Servants freely walked around Hell on tasks for Lucifer, right?

She was pissed at Hades for touching her and confused as to why Lucifer was sending her to the realms.  Hades was easy enough to hate, but she was upset about Lucifer.  How could Lucifer say that he loved her and wanted her to understand him, only to turn around and unceremoniously throw her ass back into the shark tank without ever batting an eyelash?  She needed to find a way out of this place.  She didn’t want her existence to be over; she just wanted to get out of Hell.

An unstoppable need to escape overwhelmed her as she paced.  She watched the souls at the end of the hall evaporate into white mist and float up into a tunnel.  There were multiple guards around, but she knew that there were escape attempts occasionally.  If she could harm Hades, she could easily stop the guards, even though she didn’t know how to recreate her outburst.  A sense of peace came over her as she walked toward the tunnel.

Lucifer be damned, she wanted out, now, and nothing would stop her.

A pleasant voice drew her out of her crazy and dangerous thoughts.  She turned to face a gorgeous angel who was smiling a sincere smile, the first one she had seen since her fall down the rabbit hole.  She thought he had said the word Anjali, but she wasn’t sure since she didn’t speak angelic.

“Michelle Black?” the angel asked hesitantly.

“How do you know that name?” she was trembling, half in anticipation, half in fear.  Was this her way out?  Had someone finally come to get her?  Not likely, but a girl could hope.  She recognized the runway model angel as her eyes adjusted to the brightness.  He was the perv who was staring at her earlier.  Her hopes deflated.

“Quickly, we haven’t much time.  My name is Mark and I know your father.  He asked me to get a message to you.  He desperately wants to speak with you to make sure that you are all right.  Please, this is imperative.  I need you get to the Caves of Darkness.  I know it is dangerous, but I think he can gain entrance there.  Do not tell anyone about this.  He is not allowed here.  Promise me that you will meet him there tomorrow after Lucifer does his rounds in the realms.  Sneak out of the castle and…” Mark was cut off by her waving hand.

“I know how to get there, that is not the issue.  My father?  My father the paper salesman?  Henry Black?  How could you possibly know him?” Michelle tried to understand what the angel was saying.  How could he know boring old Henry Black?  Her father would have bragged about knowing an angel between reading the paper and eating dinner.  It would have made him more interesting, at the very least.  Since Mark hadn’t handed her a business card or his personalized stationary, she didn’t believe that he really knew her father.

“Not the mortal that took care of you in your last life, your father, your REAL father.  He has missed you terribly,” Mark said sympathetically.

Michelle stared at the babbling angel blankly.  Apparently, it was “screw with the prisoners and fill them false hope” day.  It was new, different, and refreshing; the best torture to date and it didn’t even need its own realm.

She shook her head and was about to turn away from the disturbed angel, when he grabbed her.

“I implore you to listen to me.  I know you have been kept in the dark about many things, but surely, you must know who your real father is after all this time.  Certainly he would have told you by now,” Mark did not want to overstep his bounds, but he needed her to believe him.

“I really don’t have time to play games.  I’m having a crap day and need to figure out how to escape,” Michelle was angry that the angel was distracting her from her escape plans.

“I assure you that I am not playing games.  Perhaps I should not be telling you this, but you need to understand.  You are the daughter of the Archangel Gabriel, the messenger of God,” Mark looked her squarely in the face waiting for a reaction, hoping he had gotten through to her.

∞

“Lord Hades, Lord Lucifer is requesting your presence in the Throne Room.  He also wants to know if you have seen his mistress,” Aganon spoke loudly as he entered the Hall of Misery, rushing through the request, hoping to make a quick return to Lucifer, before he beat him for taking too long.

He tripped to a halt when he saw the devastation.  He knew he was in trouble when Hades looked up, surprised to see him, and then became visibly angry.  Whatever had happened here was supposed to be a secret, which meant he would probably receive a beating regardless.

Jared and Azazel were desperately trying to put the room back in order.  It appeared as if a tornado had hit the room.  Considering that no one was lying dead on the floor, it was an unusual sight.  Hades often beat the servants and the Fallen in his tower for disobedience, but considering that it was his personal possessions in ruins, he didn’t think Hades had caused the damage.

“Get out.  Tell Lucifer I’m busy.  I will speak to him when I am able.  And no, I haven’t seen his little tart.  Tell him to keep a closer watch over her if he needs to know her whereabouts at all times,” Hades harshly bellowed.  He waved his hand and fixed his shattered throne.

“My Lord, what happened here?” Aganon asked cautiously.  He didn’t believe Hades’ lie about not knowing of the mistresses’ whereabouts.