Well, I seriously thought that I was just about to vanish from existence,
so when my feet hit solid ground, I was pretty chuffed, you know?
I squatted down, and looked around me. It was like being in the Shadowland, you know. Smoky ribbons corkscrewed around me, and drifted away with a gentle swipe of my hand, their moisture clinging to my skin. I was in this huge round chamber. I was right in the center. Below me, the ground seemed to be glassy and transparent, and sounded like stone on crystal when I walked on it. It was about twenty meters in diameter, I'd say, not that I'm a mathematics buff, but something like that. Eight pillars surrounded me, and in between each pillar, there was a door. Not just ordinary, wooden doors. Nah, these things were huge, ten foot high, heavy-duty iron doors, with all these tricky locks on them. Fog was obscuring my vision slightly, but there was no way you could miss these. There were eight of these, all with different numbers. Jesus, this was WAY worse than the corridor. I mean, at least that went on and on, with a possibility that, at the end of a long run, you might actually fins something. But this, well, it had a prison feel to it, what with the cold grey marble pillars, the glass floor, and the impossibly high roof . . . No, wait, there wasn't a roof. Just galaxies of stars, scattered across the sky. The pillars seemed to go on perpetually.
I stood up straight, and went to the first door, No. 1. I rattled the door knob, but surprise, surprise, it was locked.
'Suze, get away from there!' said Paul angrily, who'd just fallen from the sky, too. He came over, and dragged me back.
'Why?' I tested.
'Because, there's stuff in there that you, uh, don't want to see,' he said, avoiding my gaze.
I crossed my arms. 'Like?'
He looked up at the stars, anywhere but at me. 'I can't say.'
'Oh, did you all have to take a Pact of Secrecy, when you signed up to be demons?' I asked sarcastically. He still avoided my gaze, shifting uncomfortably.
I choked on my own saliva. 'Paul, you're not serious!' I said, faking a little laugh. He looked at me, and his eyes burnt black.
Just like Jesse's had . . .
I stumbled back. 'Please tell me you're joking,' I said. I turned around. I'd rather take my chances through the door than with a Beelzebub incarnation.
However, Jesse thwarted my escape. I turned to see that his own eyes were a brilliant black.
'What ARE you two?' I screamed, as Jesse held my arms tightly.
Paul looked uncomfortable, and was chivalrous enough to make his eyes all normal again, but Jesse was delighting in my alarm. His strong hands seemed to burn my arms. Okay, I was getting tired of this weak act that I was playing. If I couldn't kick someone's ass soon, I was going to go round the twist, all right. Is it possible for ghosts to lose their sanity? I dunno . . .
'We are evil, and that is all you need know,' said Paul, still looking awkward.
'I knew it!' I yelled at him. 'I knew this was just a stupid trick!'
Jesse glared at Paul, as if still unsure whose side he was on, but I saw Paul's face crack into an evil grin. Something told me that . . . this wasn't just acting.
It wasn't a nice feeling.
'Da Silva,' Paul said, talking to Jesse, 'You do realize that in order to get your life back, you've got to go through a whole lot of . . . tasks, if you will. They involve a cool head, nerve, and boldness. I was going to go through them by myself, but you're here now, so you can come with me. For the last time, I strongly suggest that you leave Suze-'
'For the last time, Slater,' spat Jesse mockingly, clinging to me so hard it hurt, 'You are to call her Susannah. She is coming, and don't even try to change my mind.'
'But, she might not survive,' objected Paul unwisely.
Jesse's eyes narrowed dangerously, and his dark aura began to intensify. 'If that is so, then so be it. Slater, I'm warning you, do not cross me.'
Paul shrugged. 'Suit yourself, Ricky Martin.' I snorted, in spite of everything.
'What did you call me?' demanded Jesse.
'Nothing,' said Paul innocently, and his eyes flared black again. He looked around at the doors, and at their numbers. I just stared, and Jesse's hold on me steadily increased.
'Slater, I don't have all day,' snapped Jesse, and I could feel him tense in his frustration.
'Patience, dude,' Paul said casually. I noticed that he was looking intently at the third door. Why? Hang on . . . I squinted hard. There was an inscription under the number! Why hadn't I seen it before? I should have read it before Paul and Jesse had popped up, hey?
Paul was moving around the doors, reading the inscriptions carefully. I waited, and Jesse was slowly growing more angry. I sensed his burning aggravation, his need to kill . . .
'This is the one!' announced Paul, after what seemed like an eternity. He knocked loudly on the seventh door.
That was when a booming voice scared the shit out of me! A rushing wind blew away all the fog, so the circular room was very clear. This voice rang in my ears, triggering a staggering headache. I winced in Jesse's grasp, and he smirked knowingly.
'STATE YOUR NAME, RANK AND BUSINESS HERE,' roared the voice monotonously. I don't know if this makes sense, but it was if there was a strange, lower pitched echo to the voice, like there were two people saying this message at the same time. My head throbbed sorely.
'Paul Slater, Demon Shifter, to see the Keeper of Souls,' Paul said in this deep, and unfortunately, sexy voice.
There was a moment's silence, then a big, 'ENTER, PAUL SLATER.'
The door opened with a thunderous clashing of metal on metal. Through the doorway, tongues of scorching fire were licking at the metal doorframe, making it burn red-hot. Paul turned to Jesse and smirked. 'And that's how it's done, Da Silva,' he said, and stepped casually through the door, the flames instantly swallowing him, but he didn't seem to be harmed. The door slammed shut. I jumped in shock.
Jesse, annoyed at Paul, walked up to the door. The fog had been starting to drift back, when Jesse too, knocked, me carelessly gripped in his right arm. His dark, Latin eyes were in slits of concentration.
The wind blasted at me again. 'STATE YOUR NAME, RANK AND BUSINESS HERE.' My head was sent into fresh spins.
'Hector Da Silva, Demon Spy, to see the Keeper of Souls,' he said, his voice so much sexier than Paul's could ever be. He said his intention to be there rather uncertainly, as if he was just following Paul's lead.
'AND THE GIRL?'
I went to say my name and everything, but Jesse got in first, managing to sufficiently embarrass the hell out of me.
'Susannah Simon, Demon Captive and Common Shifter, to see the Keeper of Souls,' Jesse said, smirking callously at me, and giving me a rough jerk. I flinched sharply. Ha! HIS captive? COMMON shifter? How insulting!
There was a moment's silence.
'ENTER, SUSANNAH SIMON,' was all the voice said. 'HECTOR DA SILVA, YOU ARE NOT PERMITTED TO GO PAST.'
Ouch, that must have hurt.
The door unlocked, and was yawning at me. The flames beyond danced high and hot. Waves of intense heat smacked my face forcefully.
'What?' he snarled, outraged, 'Why not?'
'BECAUSE YOU NOT PERMITTED TO GO PAST. SUSANNAH SIMON, GO THROUGH THE DOORWAY NOW, PLEASE.'
'This is bullshit!' roared Jesse, jerking me back. 'If I'm not going, she's not going!'
'STATE YOUR RANK AND BUSINESS HERE, HECTOR DA SILVA,' said the voice stridently, with anger. My head was getting really, REALLY out of control now.
'Demon Spy, to see the Keeper or Souls,' Jesse snapped.
There was a moment's pause.
'WE APOLOGISE. THERE SEEMED TO HAVE BEEN SOME CONFUSION. YOU HAVE BEEN PROMOTED, HECTOR DA SILVA.'
Jesse looked pleasantly surprised. 'I have?' he asked.
There was another painful pause. Jesse's black eyes looked pretty thrilled to bits.
'YOU ARE THE NEW DEMON ROYAL ADVISOR, HECTOR DA SILVA. ENTER, SUSANNAH SIMON AND HECTOR DA SILVA.'
'Royal Advisor?' I asked quickly in a panicked voice, 'What's a Royal Advisor, Jesse?'
Judging by his hugely satisfied face, it was something of great magnitude.
'It's way better than Slater,' he informed me, dragging me towards the door. Yeah, he had to drag me, because, really, I did NOT want to go in there! Fire, heat, ugh! Not my thing, you know, because all the heat was collecting as droplets on my skin, making me feel like I was in a sauna, on a really hot day.
'Yeah, but what's so good about it?' I babbled, 'I mean, by the sound of it, being a Demon Spy was a really sweet job. Demon Advisor? That sounds WAY boring.' Of course, I was just trying to talk him out of this. Because I knew, from all the movies I've watched in my lifetime, that an advisor was some-what a second in command. Jesse SO didn't need the encouragement. And since when had he had the time to become all of this since Paul killed him? Unless . . . An awful thought crossed my mind . . . Unless he was a demon before the curse.
Oh my God.
With that, he threw me into the dancing, menacing orange flames.
****************************************************************
A/N: If I've used anyone's idea here, don't flame me, but I need this plot for what's going to happen. Review, or suffer the wrath of . . . me. (Okay, why is that not intimidating?)
I squatted down, and looked around me. It was like being in the Shadowland, you know. Smoky ribbons corkscrewed around me, and drifted away with a gentle swipe of my hand, their moisture clinging to my skin. I was in this huge round chamber. I was right in the center. Below me, the ground seemed to be glassy and transparent, and sounded like stone on crystal when I walked on it. It was about twenty meters in diameter, I'd say, not that I'm a mathematics buff, but something like that. Eight pillars surrounded me, and in between each pillar, there was a door. Not just ordinary, wooden doors. Nah, these things were huge, ten foot high, heavy-duty iron doors, with all these tricky locks on them. Fog was obscuring my vision slightly, but there was no way you could miss these. There were eight of these, all with different numbers. Jesus, this was WAY worse than the corridor. I mean, at least that went on and on, with a possibility that, at the end of a long run, you might actually fins something. But this, well, it had a prison feel to it, what with the cold grey marble pillars, the glass floor, and the impossibly high roof . . . No, wait, there wasn't a roof. Just galaxies of stars, scattered across the sky. The pillars seemed to go on perpetually.
I stood up straight, and went to the first door, No. 1. I rattled the door knob, but surprise, surprise, it was locked.
'Suze, get away from there!' said Paul angrily, who'd just fallen from the sky, too. He came over, and dragged me back.
'Why?' I tested.
'Because, there's stuff in there that you, uh, don't want to see,' he said, avoiding my gaze.
I crossed my arms. 'Like?'
He looked up at the stars, anywhere but at me. 'I can't say.'
'Oh, did you all have to take a Pact of Secrecy, when you signed up to be demons?' I asked sarcastically. He still avoided my gaze, shifting uncomfortably.
I choked on my own saliva. 'Paul, you're not serious!' I said, faking a little laugh. He looked at me, and his eyes burnt black.
Just like Jesse's had . . .
I stumbled back. 'Please tell me you're joking,' I said. I turned around. I'd rather take my chances through the door than with a Beelzebub incarnation.
However, Jesse thwarted my escape. I turned to see that his own eyes were a brilliant black.
'What ARE you two?' I screamed, as Jesse held my arms tightly.
Paul looked uncomfortable, and was chivalrous enough to make his eyes all normal again, but Jesse was delighting in my alarm. His strong hands seemed to burn my arms. Okay, I was getting tired of this weak act that I was playing. If I couldn't kick someone's ass soon, I was going to go round the twist, all right. Is it possible for ghosts to lose their sanity? I dunno . . .
'We are evil, and that is all you need know,' said Paul, still looking awkward.
'I knew it!' I yelled at him. 'I knew this was just a stupid trick!'
Jesse glared at Paul, as if still unsure whose side he was on, but I saw Paul's face crack into an evil grin. Something told me that . . . this wasn't just acting.
It wasn't a nice feeling.
'Da Silva,' Paul said, talking to Jesse, 'You do realize that in order to get your life back, you've got to go through a whole lot of . . . tasks, if you will. They involve a cool head, nerve, and boldness. I was going to go through them by myself, but you're here now, so you can come with me. For the last time, I strongly suggest that you leave Suze-'
'For the last time, Slater,' spat Jesse mockingly, clinging to me so hard it hurt, 'You are to call her Susannah. She is coming, and don't even try to change my mind.'
'But, she might not survive,' objected Paul unwisely.
Jesse's eyes narrowed dangerously, and his dark aura began to intensify. 'If that is so, then so be it. Slater, I'm warning you, do not cross me.'
Paul shrugged. 'Suit yourself, Ricky Martin.' I snorted, in spite of everything.
'What did you call me?' demanded Jesse.
'Nothing,' said Paul innocently, and his eyes flared black again. He looked around at the doors, and at their numbers. I just stared, and Jesse's hold on me steadily increased.
'Slater, I don't have all day,' snapped Jesse, and I could feel him tense in his frustration.
'Patience, dude,' Paul said casually. I noticed that he was looking intently at the third door. Why? Hang on . . . I squinted hard. There was an inscription under the number! Why hadn't I seen it before? I should have read it before Paul and Jesse had popped up, hey?
Paul was moving around the doors, reading the inscriptions carefully. I waited, and Jesse was slowly growing more angry. I sensed his burning aggravation, his need to kill . . .
'This is the one!' announced Paul, after what seemed like an eternity. He knocked loudly on the seventh door.
That was when a booming voice scared the shit out of me! A rushing wind blew away all the fog, so the circular room was very clear. This voice rang in my ears, triggering a staggering headache. I winced in Jesse's grasp, and he smirked knowingly.
'STATE YOUR NAME, RANK AND BUSINESS HERE,' roared the voice monotonously. I don't know if this makes sense, but it was if there was a strange, lower pitched echo to the voice, like there were two people saying this message at the same time. My head throbbed sorely.
'Paul Slater, Demon Shifter, to see the Keeper of Souls,' Paul said in this deep, and unfortunately, sexy voice.
There was a moment's silence, then a big, 'ENTER, PAUL SLATER.'
The door opened with a thunderous clashing of metal on metal. Through the doorway, tongues of scorching fire were licking at the metal doorframe, making it burn red-hot. Paul turned to Jesse and smirked. 'And that's how it's done, Da Silva,' he said, and stepped casually through the door, the flames instantly swallowing him, but he didn't seem to be harmed. The door slammed shut. I jumped in shock.
Jesse, annoyed at Paul, walked up to the door. The fog had been starting to drift back, when Jesse too, knocked, me carelessly gripped in his right arm. His dark, Latin eyes were in slits of concentration.
The wind blasted at me again. 'STATE YOUR NAME, RANK AND BUSINESS HERE.' My head was sent into fresh spins.
'Hector Da Silva, Demon Spy, to see the Keeper of Souls,' he said, his voice so much sexier than Paul's could ever be. He said his intention to be there rather uncertainly, as if he was just following Paul's lead.
'AND THE GIRL?'
I went to say my name and everything, but Jesse got in first, managing to sufficiently embarrass the hell out of me.
'Susannah Simon, Demon Captive and Common Shifter, to see the Keeper of Souls,' Jesse said, smirking callously at me, and giving me a rough jerk. I flinched sharply. Ha! HIS captive? COMMON shifter? How insulting!
There was a moment's silence.
'ENTER, SUSANNAH SIMON,' was all the voice said. 'HECTOR DA SILVA, YOU ARE NOT PERMITTED TO GO PAST.'
Ouch, that must have hurt.
The door unlocked, and was yawning at me. The flames beyond danced high and hot. Waves of intense heat smacked my face forcefully.
'What?' he snarled, outraged, 'Why not?'
'BECAUSE YOU NOT PERMITTED TO GO PAST. SUSANNAH SIMON, GO THROUGH THE DOORWAY NOW, PLEASE.'
'This is bullshit!' roared Jesse, jerking me back. 'If I'm not going, she's not going!'
'STATE YOUR RANK AND BUSINESS HERE, HECTOR DA SILVA,' said the voice stridently, with anger. My head was getting really, REALLY out of control now.
'Demon Spy, to see the Keeper or Souls,' Jesse snapped.
There was a moment's pause.
'WE APOLOGISE. THERE SEEMED TO HAVE BEEN SOME CONFUSION. YOU HAVE BEEN PROMOTED, HECTOR DA SILVA.'
Jesse looked pleasantly surprised. 'I have?' he asked.
There was another painful pause. Jesse's black eyes looked pretty thrilled to bits.
'YOU ARE THE NEW DEMON ROYAL ADVISOR, HECTOR DA SILVA. ENTER, SUSANNAH SIMON AND HECTOR DA SILVA.'
'Royal Advisor?' I asked quickly in a panicked voice, 'What's a Royal Advisor, Jesse?'
Judging by his hugely satisfied face, it was something of great magnitude.
'It's way better than Slater,' he informed me, dragging me towards the door. Yeah, he had to drag me, because, really, I did NOT want to go in there! Fire, heat, ugh! Not my thing, you know, because all the heat was collecting as droplets on my skin, making me feel like I was in a sauna, on a really hot day.
'Yeah, but what's so good about it?' I babbled, 'I mean, by the sound of it, being a Demon Spy was a really sweet job. Demon Advisor? That sounds WAY boring.' Of course, I was just trying to talk him out of this. Because I knew, from all the movies I've watched in my lifetime, that an advisor was some-what a second in command. Jesse SO didn't need the encouragement. And since when had he had the time to become all of this since Paul killed him? Unless . . . An awful thought crossed my mind . . . Unless he was a demon before the curse.
Oh my God.
With that, he threw me into the dancing, menacing orange flames.
****************************************************************
A/N: If I've used anyone's idea here, don't flame me, but I need this plot for what's going to happen. Review, or suffer the wrath of . . . me. (Okay, why is that not intimidating?)