Genevieve's eyes light up as she her dry gasps force her to sit upward. Her heart drops again at her surroundings. The candlelit cobblestone room is filled with horrors. Hundreds of Skulls and other remains litter the floor and encrust the walls. Rusted metal gates secure her inside. The walls and floor are tainted with dried blood and scorch marks. The distant sounds of unnamable creatures wade about her cell.
"Old bastard lied." She assumes, as Genevieve believes she is in hell.
"What happened? Where the... Where am I?" She says to herself. A revelation goes off in her mind, she can speak again. She can walk, talk, and both of her eyes are appearing to work. She sees a puddle in the corner of the cobblestone room. She looks into the still, black water. Genevieve is gobsmacked, she's normal again. Her face is returned to it's warm, fair tone and the freckles around her nose blend back in with her skin. Her light red, almost blonde hair shines in the candlelit room. Her run makeup is gone as well as the wounds that riddled her neck and face. Not even a scar is present. What she loves best of all was that her lagoon blue eyes match. No longer does her left eye look like a popped grape shoved into her skull. She realizes her clothes were softer than usual as well, she looked down at the only articles of clothing she was allowed to have on in that chilled, damp basement. The oversized fur lined jacket she wore when she was kidnapped in along with a now clean pair of underwear. The jacket four sizes too big fell just above her thickened thighs barley concealing the sky blue and white striped boy-shorts underneath. Both garments are feather soft and look freshly bleached. For being tossed into hell, she can't stop smiling. "So this couldn't be hell," she realizes amongst her borderline mischievous laughter. She leans herself on the cell's thin bars to peek out at her surroundings. But she slips for the gate was open. Catching herself clumsily on the handle causing it's rust to shoot out a loud, slow screech that echoes far throughout the prison's hall. The tall girl's repaired eyes widen and her heart drops once more, listening to an unearthly, alerted growl that echoes back from the other end of the corridor.
The creature casts an extremely large shadow as it's heavy paws prowl around the corner. Genevieve's head frantically shifts side to side to look for a place to keep herself hidden. She dashes back into her cell and desperately gathers the skeleton remnance into a pile in a corner farthest from the gate. She lies down in the corner pulling the largest of the skeletons to sheet her. Facing away from the open gate with her eyes clenching closed. Much like how a child does when its afraid of the dark, she hopes that the scary monster will just go away if she doesn't see it. Even though how real the situation is, doesn't much apply to her.
The great beast thuds in it's slow steps and low menacing growls that finally reach Genevieve's cell. It sounded much like a lion. The buried woman tries to take a quick peek through the bones to see if it is one. She opens her eyes slowly and readys to turn her head but something catches her before that. She noticed a small crack in the wall inches from her small somewhat buttoned nose. The crack glowed a familiar gold color, much like how her chest did after she passed to where she is now. A soft hand was tempted to reach out and examine it, but remembered the lion like monster was still nearing her gate. The stomping had reached her room, and steps inside. Its size so great, Genevieve could hear the muscles as they raised the head. It's bestial inhales, scanning the atmosphere with it's most likely acute sense of smell. It locks onto the bone pile.
The horror stalks slowly to the skeleton heap that Genevieve nestled into the best she could. It being so close, that it's breath blows heavy along the girl's tensing neck and face. It's air stenches of morning breath and blood. The beast's nose took in a couple more skeptical whiffs and then stood there as the frightened girl tries her hardest not to cry and/or wet herself.
The barbarous broke the silence with a groan of disappointment, only picking up the stink of decayed bodies and not what is curled up underneath them. It's immense torso turns away. Leaving the room as quick as it came. When the steps faded far enough, Genevieve slowly pushes off the skeletons with the most relieved sigh she can make. Genevieve looks back at the crack in the wall, still glowing that illustrious gold hue. Her hand goes for the glowing blemish in the wall's surface, glowing brighter and brighter the closer she shifts to it. She touches it curiously and nails lightly dig at the pencil thin crevice, breaking off small pieces of olden rock. Looking back at the gate she mentally prays to whoever was considered God in this confusing new world. Hoping that what shes about to do doesn't cause any noise.
Genevieve picks up a skull that is missing it's jaw but equipped with fangs and long, sharp devil horns. Proving it useful with it's many features to be a multi-use shovel. Cautiously, she works at the crack. Carefully using it's horn's to break it even farther, then using it's front teeth to shovel the powdering wreckage. The more she uncovers the glow, the more beams shoot out of the hole, making it difficult to see what resides inside. After a few more deep scoops from her skull shovel, she uncovers a wonder that takes her breath away at a single glance.
The artifact looks like a small apple sized crystal sculpted into a detailed skull. Golden spikes protruded in a perfect circle about the crystal. The spikes pointing north, south, east and west were longer than the ones diagonal between them. A neon gold hue swirls like a small universe in the skull's core. Gen holds the large expensive looking gem, that is also equipped with a silver chain attached to the spike that pointed north. It's a necklace and Genevieve thought it was the prettiest (and most expensive) piece of jewelery she's ever seen. Her mind screams that she simply has to wear this.
Gen cautiously raises the necklace over her head, pulling her waist length, wavy hair from underneath the chain. The large charm settles on the hard surface of her ribcage. The south pointing spike nuzzling between her uplifting cleavage. The skull grazes where the gold scriptures were planted in her chest and a reaction explodes on contact.
White beams of light shoot from the gem that make Genevieve yelp. Blossoms of strange calligraphy flourish from the source of the beams creating ribbons of writing. The ribbons circle Genevieve and create perfect circles about her. The dark horrific room is now filled with white lights as if the sun has broken out of her ribcage. She begins to float amidst the center of the brightened turmoil. Her hair floating as if she were submerged in imaginary water. Genevieve couldn't tell to be astounded or frightened for is too much for her to take in, she tries hard to make some sort of sense of whats going on. She pushes her floating locks shimmering gold in the florescence. In the right corner of her eye she catches one of the glowing lines of writing dancing throughout the room. The only thing she finds legible.
"THE SELECTED... GENEVIEVE HANSON." She reads.
In the quickest instant, the bright beams and scriptures are sucked back into the glass-like skull. In a fashion much like an old television being shut off. In that quick millisecond, Genevieve falls five or six feet only to have dry bones break her noisy fall. She swears in pain when she hits the floor. The aura left the room as the skull dimmed, not even candle light was present in the now colder, further darkened cell. Though, she is too caught up on what lies surprisingly light atop her heart. She clasps the fragile charm in her hands. The light inside is completely gone, she fails to care. Something that could just make her levitate was interesting enough.
"Damn." She swears chuckling to herself. Completely impressed with her new trinket. She tucks the necklace under her jacket and pulls the zipper to her throat. Then the smile fades and the warm colors of her face drain when she hears a low familiar growl behind her.
She slowly turns her head with eyes gaping with fear. Looking upon the beast that almost didn't find her. She was right, it was lion like, but it is greater, scarier, and equips greater teeth and claws. It stood a good ten feet tall, possibly twenty feet from its large scaled head to it's long spiked tail. It is riddled with large red pointed scales. It's giant cat like face, with it's small, beady green eyes and flared, scrunched nostrils. It's mouth packed tight with long, baring teeth outlined with black lips with a low threatening growl sounding from behind them. It's heavy slow steps backing Genevieve further to the wall. It's stance was arched, ready to pounce it's fragile prey. The creature jumps at her with a battle cry of a roar. Moving so swiftly, it's blackened claws make white jet lines through the stale air.
The monster's foot long nails disappear under the cobblestone floor with a ground- shattering thud. It's chest rises revealing his shattered catch. Only consisting of skeletons crushed to pieces underneath it's crippling weight. It snarls in anger. Its giant body turning side to side scanning for it's escaping game. It's small ears prick up at the fast paced, anxious bear feet slapping against the stone floor. The sound shrinking as it echoed down the hall west of the creature's hearing.
Genevieve's feet smack hard on the olden pavement. Her heart pounding harder out of her chest as she hears her cell's gate broken down so easily by the beast's heavy tackle. It gallops full speed down after her. It's claws creating sparks for each time they hurtle along the ground. In the midst of the chase, The tall, frightened twenty-two year old wondered why she deserved this. She swiftly turned the corner, feet skidding and almost stumbling as she glided along the floor. The creature skidded as well but crashes into the wall hard. Leaving a deep welt as it nearly broke through the solid rock. It's clumsiness only serves it to slow it down a mere seven yards. She knew why she was here, she lived a truly sinful life, just like the old man knew. Tears seep though her eyes as her conscience screamed at her. "You were nothing but a dirty whore!" It didn't stop as the heavy stomps and deafening roars drew closer. "You deserve this! You were nothing! A NOBODY! All you did was take down your problems with booze and powder and grinded your goods to any dirty old fucker who flashed you a twenty!"
Genevieve's legs grow sore and her chest pumps scorching dry heat throughout her lungs. Legs skid to their right again and aggrieved feet skid to a stop in their blooming tracks. Her trail ends in a hall that looked to have collapsed years ago. Her body shuts down, Turning around to the red scaled lion running full speed at it's game. The sharp black talons forty feet from her soft skull. She has nothing left to do but collapse to the ground in a fetal stature.
Now Thirty feet, hands hold her head, burying it into her chest.
Fifteen feet, Her thoughts are screeching, "YOU DESERVE THIS, GENNA! YOU GET WHAT YOU DESERVE!"
At three feet, She lets out a deafening swear with the last breath in her chest. A tear falls from her once broken, clenching left eye as the monster's salivating grin nears her. It pounces it's prey one last time.
"FUUUUUUUCK!"
She sobs in the silence. Then a low gurgling gag is heard from above her. Tearful pink eyes open in confusion and Genevieve's head rises from her chest. Her nose accidentally grazing the creature's wet snout. It's face is eerily relaxed and unmoving with as it's jaw lazily hangs. She notices a shine underneath it's neck. Two long crossed blades making an "X" around it's neck. Inner parts of the cutlasses vanish into the flesh, blood lazily dripping along it's edges. There is a sharp sound of metal against metal that pierces the air. The great scaly head slowly departs from it's support and falls to the floor with a thump. Crimson drools and sputters out the creature's clean cut stump that is unfortunately aimed at poor Genevieve's face. She spazzingly scrambles away from the tumbling body about to crush her. Revealing the large creature's killer as the body thuds, cracking the stone.
She climbs back on her feet and stares in awe at the size of the warrior standing before her. Her five foot eight in height is miniscule in comparison to his more than seven foot stature. The giant wore a purple cowl lined with bone. His legs and feet are layered heavily with torn cloth, leather and skulls. A demon pauldron strapped his left shoulder as a scar tattoo is etched into his right. Hair straight yet unkempt with a tar black color that flows long over his bluish ash skin. The man packs heavy with toned muscles. Green glowing shrapnel dug painfully deep in the right pectoral. His course, finger- gloved hands firmly grasping two arcane scythes, the gore from his most recent kill sliding easily off the stainless steel blades. A horrifying bone mask that covered his features except for his amber eyes that hold a dim resonation in the shadow over his deathly features.
Genevieve wasn't sure to be thankful or defend herself from an even stronger creature. She picks up a brittle piece of gate next to the rolling head on the floor. She points it warily in his direction. She chooses to defend herself.
"St- Stay back!" The tall, shaken woman warns. Her attempt of defense sparks a deep chuckle from behind the white mask, ignoring her warning and stepping closer, returning his scythes to their holsters.
"Threatening." His voice low and rugged, yet it holds class with his aesthetic British accent and sarcasm, "Put that rubble down, before you harm yourse-"
Genevieve shrills and a loud ding pierces throughout the hall as the pole cracks at the man's chin in a long anxious swipe. His head pauses to where it was thrown to it's left side. Body unmoved from the impact. With knees at the brink of collapsing under her, Genevieve cocks her arms back to hurl another swing at his head. She hurdles the pole but is caught mid-swing in the large, skeleton encrusted gloves. His head slowly resumes it's position, Genevieve senses the heat of anger and annoyance fuming behind his mask as his eyes lock back to her. Pale fingers grip only with the smallest fraction of strength as they swiftly pull the rusted metal out of Genevieve's hands. They then shove her hard into the fallen jagged wall and almost knocks her out of consciousness. The red head a hair's length from sharpened stone that could have easily broken through the back of her skull and simply reappear out of her forehead. One hand gripping both of her wrists tightly above her head. His grip raises Genevieve shy of a yard from the ground to be at his eye level. Her body squirms like a dying fish. Legs frantically kicking the hardened necromancer armor. Doing nothing but to only give her nasty black and blues. The grip around Genevieve's hands tightening further, the gravity amplifying the sting.
"Okay look! I'm sorry man, okay?" She pleads, "Get off of me!"
Death leans further in. A low short hum of curiosity comes from the back of his throat. He examines her, his free hand holds her chin between his course thumb and forefinger, further reddening her swollen and tearful face. Genevieve stares into the detail of his skull like mask, the worn creases and cracks that riddled the bone. The irises in his eyes are spattered with crimson along the bright orange glow.
"You are human." The masked man stated. Confusion mixes with the fear on Genevieve's look. "Only humans beg for their lives so pityingly." He spits as the hand holding her chin removes itself, lightly throwing her neck to the side. His arm brushes something on her chest. The glowing eyes shift down, then back at the girl's face, with freckles now one shade below his pale hue, then eyes return back to her chest. The finger gloved hand glides up her stomach. The index finger tracing up the zipper. He adds his thumb to the jacket's tab. The tab lowers farther and farther down.
"Please God. . ." She whimpers, humbling. "Not this. . . Not again."
"Quiet, child." He snapped."I have no need for what you're assuming."
The zipper is lowered above her bosom and reveals Genevieve's hidden treasure. He scoops the heavy looking glass out from underneath the jacket. He stares at it with narrow eyes that grow even colder.
"How did you get this?" He instigates.
"I found it."
"Where?"
"What's it ta you?"
"Answer the question you damned fool."
His eyes lit up a bit brighter before his question can be answered. He catches something flicker across her fearful face. Like some sort of picture frantically flashing over another. Bursting as quick as a light bulb going out and leaving just as fast. The masked face caught a glimpse of curdled blood and smudged makeup all over her features. Her gnawed eye along with the deathly paleness that riddled her. For a quick millisecond, he caught the look of what she once was at the end of her life. He knows what she is. That this stubborn woman has some use to him. "No matter." The man finally let go of her bruised wrists and she grinds with the jagged wall on her way to the ground. "You're coming with me to present you before the Judicater."
"The who?"
"He's going to send you off to whichever afterlife that awaits you."
Genevieve's heart sinks down to her stomach, If she's sent to whoever this Judicater is, her afterlife would end. She knew she would be thrown into the tortures of Hell and she wasn't going to let this man or this "thing," take her there.
"No!" She argues, "I don't want to be sent to another afterlife!" Her voice softens, trying her hardest not to choke on her words. "Because I know where I'd be headed."
"That does not concern me, dead one." The blatant honesty in his voice brings the temperature farther down amongst the corridors."If you are sent to to the city of angels or the lowest level of Hell, that is simply your ordeal. I however, have a task that I am seeing through." His steps draw closer to Genevieve with his hand outstretching towards her arm. "And when he sends you, you're leaving that amulet behind." Genevieve's blood boils. She isn't going to let some skull faced bastard snuff out her journey like a dying fire. Even when she hasn't yet come across it's purpose.
"No." She thought, "I'm not going to let everything go so easily."
Genevieve bucks back from the warrior's heavy grasp and bleeding feet begin to run again in one final burst of speed around the corner and pushes through the double doors on her right. Heavy boots follow the trail of blood footprints she left behind.
"Do not toy with me, girl!" He snarled as he summoned a spell, calling forth a pair of purple skeleton arms to burst through the heavy double doors. "It's not like you can hide! You leave a damned trail for Creator's sa-"
"Who said I was hiding, motherfucker?"
The masked man freezes dead in his tracks. The floating bones remain, still holding the doors open. Genevieve stopped her running and now leans her right arm outstretched to the wall, pressing her weight onto the glass amulet nearly cracking under the pressure of her hand. Her face of fear is gone and with only a hateful and smug look to take it's place.
"Now you listen to me, Skull Face." Genevieve warns darkly. "One step closer and this pretty little chandelier piece is goin' through this wall here, 'kay?"
"Or through your hand, ever thought of that?"
"You won't have your precious amulet either way, asshole."
The brute growls under his breath. Then sighed as he momentarily glanced at his feet. Then back to her. "Fine, what are your terms?"
"Okay so first of all," She inhales for her long question. "Where am I and why did you save me back there, what was that thing that attacked me and-?"
"One question at a time dammit!" The mask barks at her. She gives a voiceless rebuttal by pressing her weight into the wall. A crack shoots from the delicate piece clenched tight in her palm that make his is orange eyes shutter. "You, are in the Kingdom of The Dead." He states, " And what happened to attack you back there is called a stalker, and you should be thankful that I heard you're sad little screams for your life and saved you."
"What are you doing here? Why do you need me?"
"I don't need you." He sneers, "I only need three souls to bring to the Judicater to be judged. He never told me there would be fourth. I thought I would bring you as well to do you some sort of favor to get off this forsaken ash dune."
"That is bull!" Genevieve booms with anger that pushes even harder onto the glass. "Who are you? And be honest or say goodbye to your precious piece!"
A small chuckle much darker than the one from earlier is heard. Dark amber eyes lock onto Genevieve infecting her with utmost discomfort. "I have many names, but all who live know of one, child."
"And that is?"
A smirk curls in the shadows behind his mask. He finally casts off the bones holding the doors that slam behind him.
"Death."