This will be interesting, I love supernatural stories and thought I' finally submit my own! Ch.2 is already writen but after than I have no set updates!
-‡-Prince of Hell-‡-
Chapter One
In the distance screams echoed in the darkness. The smell of blood lingering in the hot stale air. Men in women shrouded in black and clad in tight leather and red, gathered around a raised dais that held their monarchs above them. A line had formed in the throne room of poor unfortunate souls hoping to beg for their freedom.
The Prince of Hell looked out across the throne room his right hand dangling down to lazily scratch Gladstone's ears, who was by far the laziest animal John had ever know. The Hell Hound never so much as barked at another person much less lift his head from his paws to even regard anyone. Despite his lacking ferociousness John loved that dog. To John's left sat his parents and at the far end his older sister, smiling like the Cheshire cat at an elderly man in gray rags in front of the dais of thrones, begged for redemption. John frowned deeply.
"Please your Darkness forgive my sins."
John couldn't stop the slow grin that betrayed his mirth at the man's pleas. He covered the smile with his left hand. It wasn't that the ratty man begging for his life was funny, it was the fact that everyone begged for the something, and in all time the Dark lord had never granted such boon so it amused John that the humans still insisted on begging.
John averted his eyes as his father brook out into a wide smile and pointed his finger. A streak of darkness snaked out and enveloped the poor soul, who burst into flames. The man screamed for a few second before the black flames consumed him and he disappeared into the air, a faint trail of smoke left in his absence. The Dark Lord, George Watson, turned to his eldest son.
"You will judge the next one."
John nodded his face stone cold and unmoving but inside he was squirming and objecting. He didn't want to judge others, he was happier leading Hells army and if he was honest with himself he was going one hell of a job, pun intended. Never in any century had the army concurred so much with so little bloodshed, the called him the immovable force. In the last battle John had gotten his leg crushed and developed a slight limp. He took to walking with an ornate black cane with a silver top, it was cleverly disguised as a sword, ten times stronger that steel and deadly to all demonic creatures. Moving his hand from his mouth, John reached beside him and gripped his cane.
"Next." The firey blonde called out in a commanding tone.
His guard's men, wearing his insignia of a red lion with wings tearing the head off an enemy, dragged in a woman. They threw her to the ground in front of the throne; all the courtiers craning their necks to get a better view of the women. She, unlike all the other beggars, was naked and not shrouded in filth. Her long blond hair was in ringlets down to her waist. From the corner of his eyes, John saw his sister, Harry, lean forward licking her lips. John's stomach churned at the lust in Harry's eyes. The last girl who'd gotten that look was currently sitting at Harry's feet chained to the floor by a collar around her neck. Other than a thin cloth, Clara was bare to the world and Harry loved to parade her pet around. Shaking his head John leaned forward his is only attempt to appear intimidating. The women's bright blue eyes locked on his and she trembled.
"What has brought you here?" John asked the first mandatory question.
The blonde women remained on the floor but looked up with determined eyes. "I died."
John smiled with actual pleasure at her spitfire answer. "What is your name?"
"Mary." She answered with trepidation.
"What sins have you to pay for?" John asked the next mandatory question.
May licked her dry lips and hugged her body, hiding her small plump breasts. The action made her seem innocent and small. "I have many." She whispered sadly.
In John's mind eye red scroll print ran over her smooth white skin, writing her sin into her skin. Her lesser crimes written on her outer extremities and worse crimes inscribed on her face and chest. He was slightly taken back at the multitude of blood writing on the women. John's eye brows flew up in surprise at her admission. Not many humans ever freely admitted their wrong-doings. It took a lot of courage on their part. With a growing respect for the broken women John continued forward with his questions.
"How do you plead?"
"Guilty." Mary said as she hung her head.
"How are you prepared to pay for your sins?"
Mary's head snapped up, an inner fire burning in her eyes. "Whatever it takes."
Harry giggled to John's left as his father nodded, it was impressive when a human wished to actually atone for their sins and the Underworld looked upon that favorably. Just because they took the forsaken of society didn't mean they didn't have standard. John grabbed the scruff of Gladstone's neck, hating himself for the next words that were about to come from his mouth but having no other choice then to voice them.
"You may choose your 'tormentor' or would you prefer to beg for mercy?"
Mary didn't hesitate, she pointed straight at John. "I'll take you over anyone else in this room."
John sighed happily, no one ever chose him, preferring to pick Harry or his mother. He assumed it was because they looked small and frail with beautiful faces, seemingly kind, but in truth they were ruthless. The courtiers shuffled in their seats to the side, it was the first for a victim to ever willingly pick John. Most just choose to beg and then got sent off into a mindless torment. John motioned Mary forward. She stood up, still hugging her naked body and walked forward on shaky legs, falling in front of his golden seat. In a swift motion, John unsheathed his blade and sliced her slender neck. Drawing a perfect circle of blood. Taking his right hand off Gladstone's neck, John reached out and traced the blood around her pale skin, coming to the center of her throat he drew his finger away, a trail of blood suspended in the air, following his movement as he drew a circle on his own wrist with her blood. The blood solidified leaving Mary blood chained to John. The blood on her throat dried back, appearing as if a black choker, the blood tie between them disappeared leaving a similar black band on John's left arm.
"Sit here Mary." John indicated a spot to his left in front of his chair on the first step. Gracefully Mary sat down, calm and docile, John handed her his cane and she gently took it, holding the item like a sacred artifact.
John's personal guards walked out of the room once more and returned with another victim. Already tired of judgment but unwilling to let his parents much less his ruthless sister at the poor souls John continued on, Mary and Gladstone sitting loyally at his feet.
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-
Five hours later and forty eight judgments, John was bone tired. His parents had retired with in the first hour, Harry leaving with Clara after two and the courtier after three. Leaving him and Mary, not that he minded it was much less intimidating. Once everyone had left the throne room. John had gotten up from his seat and moved to his father's chair, motioning for Mary to take a seat next to him, still clutching his cane. At first she was hesitant but after the deceased stopped panicking and seemed to calm down at the sight of the two blondes pleasantly sitting in front of them, she relaxed. John even allowed her to decided fair atonements for a few of the lesser crimes. They retired for the night in his large chambers that weren't heavily furnished or decorated. He wasn't the kind to bask in the glory of royalty and choose simple over elegant.
"I won't keep your bed warm." Mary squeaked out.
John shrugged out of his heavy black robes and tossed his shoes off. He turned and raised an eyebrow at the women before he saw her eyes nervously flicker to his bed and he got her hint. His face lit up before he laughed heartily. "Oh well fear not, I'm…you're not my type." John stated plainly.
Mary looked equally as confused before she caught John's meaning and visibly relaxed. "I see." She tugged at the ribbon around her throat.
John pulled off his red shirt, leaving only his black pants. "You can sleep in my bed or I can find you someplace else. And by sleep I mean just that."
"Oh I know that I just-..." Her light voice trailed off as she motioned to her naked body.
John frowned before flying to his dresser and ruffling through. "I'm terribly sorry, how rude of me. It's been a while since I've had guests." He pulled out a long shirt and handed it to Mary who gratefully pulled in on and snuggled into his large bed covered in black sheets. Gladstone who had followed them into the room jumped up on the bed and curled around Mary's feet. John got in on the other side, careful to make sure there was space between the two and clapped his hands, the lights instantly going out.
They shuffled around awkwardly before find comfortable places. John was just about in the cusp of sleep before Mary started talking. "Where am I?"
John turned on his side to face her. "Hell." She remained silent wanting more information. John sighed and ran a hand through his short black hair. "You committed a crime that sent you to this kingdom in Hell to which you will stay here until you pay your dues and can move on."
"Where?"
"I wouldn't know, I'm never going there." John said. When he was younger he was bitter at his father that He had to stay in Hell and would never have the ability to move past purgatory. "Technically calling this Hell isn't correct this is purgatory, where you pay for all your crimes and sins before moving on again. Don't ask I don't know."
"You said three kingdoms?" Mary asked after another silence.
"Yes. Gluttony and sloth are monitored by the Andersons while Lust, Vainglory and Greed are the Moriarty's. You are currently in Wrath, Envy, Acadia and Pride ruled by the mighty Watsons" John said.
Mary frowned in the darkness, scooting closer to the Prince of Hell she was finding wasn't all that scary just a bit out of touch. "Why does your family have four while the others have less?"
John rubbed his face. "The Watson's aren't crazy like the Moriarty's and the Anderson's are all useless."
Mary chuckled, fingering the silky black sheets. "One more question."
John laughed. "Ok, but we have the rest of forever, you know."
Mary thought that the idea of spending eternity in Hell would have frightened her or brought her to tears but the thought only brought a smile. John would make it bearable. "If you're-…"
"Gay." He finished, not at all ashamed.
"Right, umm and you're a prince does that mean you'll-…."
"Marry another Prince. Yes well in theory, Harry also likes the same sex so that is the general idea, but I hate the other Princes; you'll see they're both terrible."
Mary nodded settling down to sleep before another question popped into her head and nagged at her mind. "One more?"
John sighed loudly. "Yes?"
"What does a Prince of Hell do?"
"I concur the world." John stated, before laughing at her shocked silence. "No I am the general of our army and make sure the onther families stay in line and don't try to take what isn't there's. Think of me like the police of the underworld."
"And you also fix people like a Doctor?"
John snorted but reached out to pat her head. "That's sounds a lot less stressful then fighting daemons and crazy Princes on a daily basis."
"Then perhaps you should try it."
"I think I just might." John said as his voice trailed off and he fell asleep.
Ok so love it? Hate it? I'd love to know!