Chapter Five~
Mayberry gave another thankful glance at the silent soul secured in the seat next to her as she drove through the expressway. Victory buoyed her spirit and kept her mind off the throbbing ache playing across her chest. The girl was safe, and all was more than right with this red world.
"Thank you, ma'am," the girl said quietly.
The break in the quietude made the teacher smile. "You're very welcome, sweetie. Do you know where you live so I can take you home?"
"Yes, but...who are you?"
That gave the teacher pause. As incredible as it felt to succeed and live to tell the tale, for her career, co-workers, student body, and life, she couldn't tell that tale or her identity.
'Identity,' Mayberry thought. 'Would I have to make a secret identity?'
"Um...I can't tell you my name, dear," Mayberry told her apologetically. "But, I'm glad I could get you out of there. Like a guardian angel, I guess."
The girl gave a shake of her head in the negative.
"Uh-uh! My parents say angels are bad. They hurt people like us. But, you're good. You're a guardian demon," she corrected.
Thinking on that for a moment, Mayberry gave a chuckle.
"I...guess I am."
The rental wend its way along the private road to its destination, a large house, technically a mansion. However, the girl eagerly watching from her seat at its sight already made it feel like a home.
"There it is!" said the girl pointing to the house.
Mayberry pulled up to the smooth driveway and parked. "Alrighty."
Taking her hand, Mayberry walked the girl up to the stained-glass door and rang the bell. She still had to mentally pinch herself to remember what a momentous thing she did...in Hell, no less.
This was far different from the local community work she used to do. Like-minded people were, naturally, hard to find here, and doing good for its own sake was a good way to put a target on her back.
Or, she thought ruefully, a knife in her chest.
She shook her head to dispel those fears, not wanting to jinx anything by expecting rebuke for heroism in the Underworld, but what was done was done. Although, she knew that, if given a chance, she would do it again.
Just acknowledging that touch of conviction, or maybe, defiance, made her feel strangely at peace.
The thick door opened, and Mayberry was greeted by an unexpected sight. A couple wearing grey, silken robes with faces hidden behind white masks topped with gilded crowns stood in the doorway.
The shorter and more feminine figure looked down to see the young demon beside Mayberry and stooped to open her arms to receive the child as she ran into them.
"Fiora, baby!" she called to her in her embrace. "Thank Satan! Are you alright?"
With a natural swagger that the robes couldn't conceal, the taller male shook Mayberry's hand with relief in his voice. "Thank you, ma'am. Thank you! When our chauffeur recovered and told us what happened, we were so scared for her. Please, come in."
Mayberry bowed slightly and stepped into the foyer. "Uh, thank you, sir."
"How did you find her?" asked the father.
Mayberry debated with the cautious part of her again and decided, in the end, to be respectfully informative, yet keep things nice and vague. "Well...I was looking for another child who went missing and saw your daughter on the news. She needed help, and I wasn't going to turn my back on her."
The father nodded. "Thank you, Miss...uh, what's your name, by the way?"
Mayberry's mind hit another brick wall. 'Oh, uh...'
"Guardian demon, Dad!" Fiora chirped up. "She's a guardian demon!"
"Yeah! That's me!" she chuckled again, remembering her earlier christening from the girl.
"Oh, my! Are you hurt?" asked Fiora's mother, who had noticed the dark patch on Mayberry's coat.
The question snapped Mayberry back into the moment, and she graciously waved the injury away. "Oh, this? I'll be fine."
Without preamble, the father asked, "Now, how much are we talking here? Fifty? A hundred thousand?"
The teacher thought she heard wrong. Certainly an unexpected, if unfamiliar, reaction to the rescue, at least. "Huh?"
"Souls," Fiora's mother explained. "You saved our daughter. You're obviously stronger and more cunning than the kidnapper, so how much would you like as a reward?"
The reason soon dawned on Mayberry. "Oh! Because we're self-interested demons! Uh, nothing, ma'am. I'm just glad your daughter's safe."
The couple's demonic minds were stuck in mid-thought. Altruism? Selflessness? Openly displayed? It was hard to see who was the most stunned between the three.
The cordial part of the father's brain then reminded him of his manners. "Look at me, standing here like a virgin in a whorehouse. You're our guest. Could we give you a tour of the place? You should at least know the parents of the girl you saved, after all."
The cordial part of Mayberry's brain accepted. "Thank you."
Mayberry took in the broad yet homey opulence of the house's first floor. Although the impromptu tour would only take her through public areas for entertaining guests and family, its wealth couldn't be ignored.
Fiora had zipped upstairs at the start of the visit, but rejoined everyone soon after with a robe and crowned mask of her own.
When Mayberry saw her, it was a complete change from the vulnerable child she had been. Now, Fiora was as unreadable and seemingly as mysterious as her parents.
Mayberry was led into a hall dominated by a large room at its end that served as a home office. The walls served as a gallery, displaying professionally framed and well-maintained posters of gaudily-dressed people posing in equally gaudy backgrounds.
Wrestlers, Mayberry recognized, each portrait showcasing the stage names of those shown and segregated by either wall into male and female divisions.
For the females, there was Aboma-Mom's poster and another showcasing a wrestler named Battle-rina, who incorporated a ballet dancer's looks and moves into her attacks.
Next to the two posters displayed popular tag teams, Slay Sashay and Glamour Slammer-"The Beautiful Brimstone Bitches" and "The Bank Skanks," composed of Glitterous Clitoris, a wealthy, gold-clad wrestler, and her partner, The Backdoor Negotiator, a hooker-turned-businesswoman.
For the males stood "The Rectum Wrecker," a huge, leather-clad, gay wrestler who sodomized his opponents as a finishing move, "Major Fuck-Up," a military-themed wrestler, and "Rabid Fire," a beefcake Hell Hound wrestler.
Of the two tag teams of note: twin brother Sinners-"The Mad Highlanders" and "Heads-Up," a two-headed Siamese Twin Wrestler, also known as "The One-man Tag Team."
"Big wrestling fan, huh?" Mayberry asked the father.
"I used to throw my weight around when I was younger," he chuckled proudly. "But, you could say that I'm the biggest fan here. Name's Prezgut."
He gestured to the more petite figure beside him. "My wife, Louise. I'm president and CEO of Infernal Championship Wrestling. I'm sure you've seen my show on more than one occasion."
Thinking back on the unexpected turn of her Show and Tell, she answered, honestly, "Yes, it...really moved me. By the way, I'm sorry about that wrestler who died in the ring. The one that was fighting, er, who was it? Abominable?"
"Aboma-Mom," his wife cheerily corrected. "You mean Rage-a-Rama. Yes, it was a shame, but it comes with the territory when you sign on that dotted line. Ratings usually shoot through the roof when Wild Card shows up, and you can't have fame and fortune without a little bloodshed."
Mayberry held her dismay at the woman's indifference to herself and decided to change the subject. "Words to live by. I don't mean to pry, but was I interrupting some Eyes Wide Shut thing?"
"On a weekday? Nah," Prezgut said. "Some friends came by to give us emotional support while our girl was missing. Would you like to meet them?"
Mayberry fought her apprehension. If her hosts were dressed up in robes and masks, it stood to reason that their friends might. At least she had a reason for her anonymity. But, what was theirs?
"Oh, I don't want to impose," she said, hoping to depart without offense.
Louise tut-tutted it away. "Not at all! We don't have a robe for you, but your mask will do just fine. Just follow us."
"Um, okay."
'Okay, May,' she thought while holding a gracious yet uncertain grin. 'What the hell am I getting into?'
The dining room played host to a milling assemblage of similarly dressed guests, who all noticed Prezgut's reunited family and his new guest as they entered. As one, they moved to encircle the family, thankful for their guests' daughter being hale and whole.
"Is this who we have to thank for Fiora's rescue?" asked a soft-spoken amazon of a Hellborn, looking down at Mayberry in robes as big as a courtyard flag.
"Yes," said Prezgut. "She calls herself The Guardian Demon, and she certainly lived up to that name tonight."
If Mayberry had toes and shoes again, they would be curling in them. So much for her anonymous good deed. Now more people knew who she was. Even if it was only by this new persona, it was already starting to feel complicated. She could feel the spotlight of notoriety growing brighter and brighter on her.
"Hi, and thank you for saving Fiora," she said. "Y'know, if you're interested in joining our little club, you've got a pretty good shot."
Mayberry raised an eyebrow. "Club?"
"Well, we're more than that, but we wouldn't turn you down if you asked," Louise explained. "We're The Lesser Crown."
"What's that?"
"Our way of standing up to the oppression of the Higher Demons; Overlords, Goetia, and The Seven Princes. Hell's hierarchy only exists to serve its interests and keep us Lesser Demons down. We're against all of that."
"Maybe you'd like to join us. You've shown that you're not like other demons. You'd have some powerful friends in your corner," admitted Prezgut.
Mayberry could see another door opening before her. Alliances would be necessary to survive in a place like this, but she knew none of these people. And right now, there was no time to weigh her options. She could be trading in one headache for another by swearing any fealty to this group.
"I don't know," Mayberry admitted diplomatically. "I'm glad Fiora's safe, but I don't know anything about this Crown business."
"That's fair, but you didn't ask for anything in return when you brought our girl home," Prezgut countered. "And since you said that you were looking missing kids already, that tells us that you really care about them. We'd like someone like you to help look after all of ours because we think Fiora might have been targetted."
"Because of your cult? Club! I mean, club!" Mayberry's ruddy face grew cherry-red at the Freudian slip.
Louise laughed the faux-pas away. "Yes. We believe that all Lesser Demons deserve a better chance to improve their lives. But, to the Highers, that's a slap in the face, something that threatens their hold on power."
'Democratic demons?' Mayberry thought.
It would have been easy to dismiss it all as doomed, ideological hogwash to any native of The Pit. But, as someone who once worked in the trenches of a similarly classist educational system, Mayberry was beginning to see some merit to their mandate. A revolution, of sorts, could bring those grievances to light and maybe force change to occur.
"To tell the truth, that's not a bad idea," Mayberry conceded. "I...uh, know a teacher who works with Imp and Hellborn children in Imp City who would love it if the powers-that-be could throw some more money their way to improve the schools and get better supplies."
"Exactly!" exclaimed Prezgut. "We have Imps here who had to drop out of school to support their families before they made it big, but it's a struggle that didn't have to happen if we were given an even break by the Highers."
Louise added, "We're not saying we want or even need hand-outs. We proved that we have the drive to pull ourselves out of the gutter. Still, we want our people to have the same opportunity the Highers have to better themselves."
A cloaked Imp approached the group and genially entered the conversation. "Come now, everyone. I'm sure our friend wasn't invited to hear our sermonizing. Besides, she did say that it was a good idea. There is such a thing as the hard sell."
Prezgut gave an understanding nod to the speaker. "You're right, of course."
He then turned to Mayberry once again. "Let me apologize for everyone here. Take some time to think about it, and if you still feel it's not for you, please know that we still have our thanks for saving our child's life."
This gave Mayberry a chance to finally breathe relievedly. It may have looked naïve, but she could begin to see a bigger picture in all of this, a chain of events arising from the efforts to bettering those less fortunate. Something she could genuinely relate to. However, she was also grateful for the chance to bow out if she desired.
"Thanks," Mayberry said, remembering that she had a job bettering some of those less fortunate in the morning. "Well, I better get going. It's been a big day for all of us."
"Then, I'll show you out."
Mayberry stopped in the front doorway and turned to see the family and the other masked guest who spoke to Prezgut previously gathering in the foyer to see her off.
Words still needed to be said, she felt. An understanding reached that she wanted no bad blood between any of them.
"I just want to say again that I really appreciate that you'd like me to join you," said Mayberry. "What you said makes some sense, but I'm already working, and I don't think I'd have the time. Still, let me give you this."
She handed Prezgut a folded piece of paper. "Here. I wrote the name and address of the hotel the kidnapper was staying in earlier. The room number's on the back. I don't know if I can call the cops on him because I'm a Sinner, but I think you can."
"Thank you."
"And if your children are in trouble, let me know. I'll do my best to help."
Louise nodded solemnly. "We understand, and thank you again."
"Thank you, ma'am!" Fiora called out to the teacher.
Mayberry didn't need to see the girl's face for a smile to bloom across her own. She knew this was the reason for the danger she faced tonight, the infernal censure she risked. The sound of a safe and happy child.
"You're so welcome, dear. You take care, now." With that, Mayberry took her leave with a slight twirl and spring in her walk to the car.
"Okay, Fiora," Louise bade her as the door closed. "Time to wash up for dinner."
"Okay, Mom," Fiora nodded before toddling up the stairs.
Prezgut's face darkened with a malicious sneer after the girl's departure. "A Sinner? A Sinner saved our girl? She's no better than the Highers, and we let her into our home, almost let her into our sanctum! If I could smell her earthly stink through my mask, I would have slammed the door in her face as soon as she dropped off Fiora."
"I know, dear, but the damage is done," his wife commiserated. "Clearly, she knows enough to be a problem. Better safe than sorry."
"I agree." the other robed figure said thoughtfully. "But, don't beat yourselves up over this, people. After all, in our organization, even Sinners have their uses."