I had the flu last week! It was super not fun! Make sure to wash your hands and stay home as much as you can! Besides the big bad the flu is also afoot and it sucks!

As I stated in an earlier chapter, I'm a Christian. Because of the nature of this story, I wanted to incorporate some elements of my faith into it. I find it weird to impress my faith on fictional characters, so I usually don't, but my God is a healer. It makes sense that He'd be mentioned. I'll probably keep it kind of subtle.

Not this chapter though. THIS ONE GOES HARD. STRAP IN BOYS!

It's also REALLY GROSS at parts. Sorry in advance.

(Also, this is creative writing, I'm not really up to theology debates. Please and thank you in advance.)

"End of the road." Lady Lacrima said, her face blank and emotionless.

Salo pulled her hand, or rather her wrist, to her chest. "How the hell did he find you?"

Lady Lacrima shrugged. "You must have gotten sloppy."

"Or you gave him clues! I should have killed you weeks ago!"

"You should have," Lady Lacrima agreed. "You should have let me die with compassion in my heart. But you didn't. You created a monster. Two of them."

Salo spat at her. "You're a product of Hawkmoth! I only avenged my Eddy!"

"After all this, you're still justifying your heinous actions. You're so lost in your depravity, that you can't even see how low you've sunk."

"So what now?" She sneered. "Now that the roles are reversed, what are you going to do?"

Lady Lacrima reach out and caressed the woman's face, leaving a smear of blood on her cheek. "The roles are far from reversed, Salo." She stated, holding out her arms. A buster sword, one bigger than any human could wield, materialized in her hands. "I'm more powerful than you could ever hope to be. And you…there's no punishment on Earth that befits you."

"Will you kill me then?"

"That depends…do you believe in God?"

Salo scoffed. "What are you, my Nonna? Go ahead, kill me. Let your God punish me."

Lady Lacrima adjusted the sword in her hand. "He'll get his turn."

Salo's lip trembled as she attempted to scoot away.

"It's funny. Without those glasses, you look almost human. And all this time, I thought you were a soulless machine. But if you have a soul…you can burn in hell." And she slammed the blade down, down through flesh and bone and into the cement, separating her legs from her torso.

The woman screamed in agony, clawing at the ground to escape.

Claws ripped into her stomach, pulling her intestines out and spilling them on the floor.

"What do you think Salo? Should we leave you like this?"

Salo didn't answer, only squealed and cried out as she writhed on the floor like a worm. Her vision was blurred, but she could see the lights above her head.

Then there was a silhouette, holding out long claws. Claws that pulsed and churned with dark energy. They came closer and closer to her face.

It burned. Hotter than any fire she'd felt before. She heard her skin sizzling and cracking.

Then there was nothing.

No sound, no light, nor breath in her lungs. No emotion fleeting through her head.

And yet—

She was awake. More awake than she'd ever been before. It was like she had been dreaming all this time, and she was finally aware of all that was happening around her.

"Where am I?" She asked, noting the white space around her. Not the billowing clouds she'd seen in Sunday school illustrations as a child. Just a vast infinite of nothingness.

"It has many names, ones in each dialect. We like to call it Hades, or Sheol. Though to you, it would be Death."

"I'm in...I'm in death?"

"Correct. For death is not a natural state, it is only a temporary condition of the fall."

"The fall?"

The voice hummed, patiently answering her question. "The fall of mankind. In the Garden of Eden. You know the story, Bianca."

"I—I do." She admitted. "I just didn't think—"

"That it was real?"

"Yeah…"

"What did you think would happen when it was all over?"

She shrugged. "That's just it. That it would be over. There was nothing else."

"You are a product of your time. Your eyes were closed to the truth. You had plenty of chances to open them, but they remained firmly shut."

Bianca raised her hands, finally looking at what had become of her body. No scars, no wrinkles, no calluses, just sooth skin, like a newborn baby.

"Who are you? Can I see you?" She finally asked.

"We've never talked, but I'm a good friend of yours. I've been with you a long time."

"Are you my guardian angel?"

The voice laughed. "No. I'm not an angel at all. I'm an antagonist to the angels."

"A demon?"

"No no, but you're getting warmer," it sang, "I will show myself soon, but my name is Death."

Bianca blinked. "Wait, I thought I was…in Death. I'm in you?"

"I am the state, place, and Lord of Death. I am here, walking with you, all around you, and I am you. But it is beyond mortal understanding."

Bianca just took a shaky breath, resolved that this was bigger than her, for once.

"You are receiving a wonderful gift, Bianca. A look at the future. Those who perish permanently are not provided with this opportunity."

"…have I not perished permanently then?"

"Mostly likely not. In the world of free will, there is still a chance that you, and several others will return to Earth for a few more pitiful years."

"Because…of Ladybug and Chat Noir? Their reset button?"

"That is correct. But until then, you are separated from your body. And I will show you what happens in the end."

Bianca swallowed as wispy white rolled away. The sky was rolled back like a scroll, displaying the mighty heavens in all their glory. The ground quaked and cracked, falling away to show a growing hoard of lethargic souls, shuffling on with no destination. Bianca stood above on a pillar, just observing them.

"These are the others in Death, they are just like you. But they won't be returning to Earth. Their lives are over, and ahead of them is judgement."

"And then?"

"Two options. Up…"

Within the vastness of the sky, a city floated. Walls made of jasper, gates of pearl, and twelve foundations stacked on top of each other, each made of a solid precious metal. There were no lights, as darkness couldn't penetrate the walls. It was blindingly bright and hurt to look at.

"Or down."

The pillar grew, twisting to peer over the edge of the world. Below, she saw a pit of fire and smoke, covered with an ancient seal. Inside the pit sat a beast with ten horns and seven heads, with crowns on each head. It looked up to her, licking her lips in patience.

"What is that?"

"The beast which devours all and demands worship. One day, when the seal is broken, the beast will go to earth. He will be exalted as a king above all, and everyone will love and adore him. He is a deceiver."

"People will worship that?" She asked, incredulous. "Out of fear?"

"Out of blindness. The beast will not appear on Earth like this. May he appear as a man, or as a temptation? That is not for you to know."

The Beast paced in the pit, its fourteen eyes never leaving her.

"Once it's reign begins, it cannot be stopped. A prophesy will come to pass, and the wrath of God will pour out on the Earth. After a thousand years of peace, this Beast, the Devil himself, and I will be cast into the Lake of Fire. Those in my arms will be judged, and if their names are not found in the Book of Life, they too will be cast down."

The pillar grew again, the ground tilting and shifting to move the pit out of the way. And beneath that was a horrible chasm, stretched out for miles and miles, though she could still see the divide clearly. On the other side, a lake, vast and sprawling, but instead of water, it churned with fire. Flames rolling and burning, on and on, hot, and unbearably agonizing.

"And then what?" She breathed. "We burn up, and then are no more?"

"No." Said Death. "There is no end to the burning. It will go on, forever and ever. You will beg for relief, but you'll never get it. Every second, you will want to die, but this is the second death. It lasts forever."

"But that's thousands of years from now!" She cried, trying to dissuade her panic. "What about now? Do I wander like the rest of them?" She gestured down to the wandering souls below her.

Death smiled. "I suppose you'll just have to find out for yourself."

The pillar crumbled, pulling her down to the crowd, though no one seemed to pay any mind. Though as her feet touched to cool ground, things started to slip from her mind.

She bumped into a soul. A man who she recognized. "Harken! Oh it's nice to see someone I know! We have to stick together, the Miraculous Cure is going to take us back soon."

But Harken didn't respond, only pushed passed her and continued listlessly onward.

"Death? Why didn't he recognize me? He died only a minute before me!"

But Death did not respond, so she was on her own.

So she wandered among the spirits. Not really knowing where she was going, or what would happen. Was this it? Milling about for hours until her return to Earth?

That didn't seem so terrible.

She wasn't calm, but not panicked either. Nor scared nor bored, just…there. Like a blank slate of her emotions. Even the last few moments of her life on Earth began to slip her mind. She passed faces she swore she knew, names that where common to her.

But none of that seemed important now. Nothing did.

Then with a step, she was in front of a podium, one so tall it loomed over her. Standing at it, was a living creature with the face of a human, with seven wings and seven eyes. It wore pure white linen and a gold sash. On the podium rested a huge book, thicker than she was tall, and four times as wide.

"Name?"

She blinked, the clarity returning to her mind. "Uh it's Bianca. Bianca Furtoli."

The being flipped through the pages. Then opened another book, and another. A scroll unrolled from the surface and came cascading down to her, unraveling next to her and continuing off into the distance.

"Your name is not written in the Book of Life." The creature said simply.

"And?"

"And so The Way is closed to you, for you are unrepentant, and your eyes are closed. Your lips only hold blasphemy, and your throat is like an open grave."

"Are you Death?" She asked.

"No," it said, "But it will be coming for you soon. I am an Angel of the Lord."

"Funny, I thought Angels were supposed to be beautiful."

"What would there be to fear in beauty?"

"Why do you think people fear me?" She asked, hand on her hip.

"Humans fear you, Bianca, because your reputation proceeds you. You speak with a silver tongue, convincing crowds, manipulating multitudes, and preying on vulnerabilities, like a lion stalks his prey."

"You're all so poetic up here."

"And you don't fear what's to become of you?"

"I was killed by an akuma. Once Ladybug does her little magic spell, I'll pop right back on Earth. It'll only be a few minutes now. Death told me so."

"Death must be fond of you. It rarely talks to mortals. It does not discriminate. But take heed child, it is not a friend, for it works for the Lord, but it should not exist."

Bianca frowned. "It gave me more answers than you're giving me."

"What makes you think you're worthy of answers?"

"Because my Nonna said I was made in the image of God. That's why."

"A good answer." The angel mused.

"Then tell me how I get my name written in the Book."

"Ask your Nonna."

She frowned. "I prayed that silly little prayer as a girl. I did exactly what I had to do."

"You were a child, and had the faith of a child. The repentance of a child. But you have grown, and you haven't lived up to your vow. You prayed to accept the sacrifice that Jesus the Messiah made for you, and yet you trampled upon all he asked of you to do."

"What did he ask me?"

"To follow him, and be like him."

"Well, no one's perfect."

"He's not asking for perfection. He's asking for you to be forgiving, kind, patient, loving, gentle. To have self-control. To be a light to others in the fallen world." The book slammed shut. "Not to torture children."

"Says a lot coming from a god that allows wars to be waged. Cancer to run rampant. Hunger and disease to plague half the world. If he's so powerful, how has he allowed all this to happen, huh? How come he didn't stop me sooner, if I'm so bad, huh?"

The angel shook his head, "O Childish Blasphemer, who are you to know the infinite ways of God? How are you, a mere infant in the eyes of the world, supposed to understand these concepts beyond your vapid existence? For now, these horrors persist, but one day, they will cease forever. But the likes of you are unlikely to ever believe that. In the last days, you will be gnashing your teeth, and cursing God, even when he gives you plenty of opportunities to repent."

"What will happen to me now then? Will you continue to berate me until I go back to Earth? Doesn't seem very loving to me."

"I have nothing more to say to you, Bianca. Death will fetch you now."

The Angel moved one of its wings, and from behind it came a pale horse with a rider. The horse was sickly, with a tail made of serpents, and with a mouth of a lion that spewed smoke and fire.

The rider wore fiery red armor, with accents of yellow sulfur. He had a sickle in one hand, and a whip in the other.

The horse whinnied, thunder roaring from its jaws, instilling Bianca with fear.

"Can I run?" She asked the Angel.

"You can try."

And so she did. Though there was no where to run in this vast expanse where Death could not find her.

Bianca was halted by the whip cracking around her throat, though the rider never stopped his gallop, and dragged her away. She flailed around, choking as the sky turned black as sack cloth and the moon turned red as blood. She cried as the flesh ripped from her body and blood streaked behind her, carving her path. The many eyes of the wandering souls around her watched as she was stripped naked in all her shame. She was swallowed by the darkness, not even the light of fire illuminating the writhing floor beneath her.

The smell of rot and decay was strong, as vomit crawled up her throat and out. Maggots crawled over her, making a home in her wounds, her ears, her mouth, her eyes. Anywhere they could crawl, they did. Every bite, every pinch, she felt. There was no blurring from one to the other, she felt it all. And all she could do was scream.

She was left to rot, tormented for hours, perhaps days. Flames burst up from below, doing nothing to the worms, but roasting her alive. Burning, agonizing, blistering pain. She rolled around, trying to get relief, but there was just none to be had.

The fire was intense, and she laid there, cooking like a piece of meat on a grill. It was so hot she couldn't move. So hot she couldn't think. She gnashed her teeth and screamed and cried on and on.

"Death!" She begged. "Please! Please show me mercy!"

But Death did not answer, and did not show her mercy.

"Water! Please…just a little water…"

Finally, Death appeared on the horse, trampling over her. "Water? You murderer, you rapist, you liar, you thief! Water is what you want?"

"Please! Please I can't do this!"

"Where were you when they begged for water? When they begged for peace? Where were you when they begged for time and patience? You had no mercy in life, so why should you receive it in death?"

"Please God! God make it stop!"

—

One moment, she was shrieking in agony, the next, her consciousness melted and she laid on cold metal. Her breath bounced off the surface in front of her. She reached her hand out, touching the sides of the metal box she rested in. A coffin?

Did that mean she was going to suffocate and die again?

She was going to—

Burn.

Burn.

Burn.

The tears streaked across her cheeks as the memories of that torture returned to her. She had been eaten alive by maggots, and burned. Burned. Burned. It did happen. Indisputably. The wounds were gone, and she was wearing the leather clothes she had been wearing in the catacombs, when she was killed.

Miraculous Cure must have brought her back.

But how long did she have?

She cried out in horror.

A light shone down by her feet, before the surface she was laying on rolled out, and she found herself in a room.

"Bianca Furtoli?" A police officer asked.

She just stared at him for a moment before weeping. "Please! Please help me! I don't want to die! I don't want to go back there!"

He turned on the radio on his lapel. "Havoc here, I've got Furtoli. She's just like the others."

Bianca reached out and grabbed his arm. "I am back now, aren't I? This is Earth? Paris?"

He pried her hands off. "Ms. Furtoli, I'm going to need you to calm down. Yes, you were dead, and now you're alive again. I'm sure this must be hard for you—"

"Where's Marinette? Where's Adrien? Please, I need to see them!"

"You don't get to know that information." He said sternly.

"I need to ask forgiveness! Please, I beg you!"

"Sit down." He demanded.

"What's going to happen to me?! Where am I?!"

"Likely, you'll be going to prison. If not a mental hospital."

"Will there be a priest there? I must talk to a priest! Please! I went to hell! I was burning in hell!"

"You know what?" He asked shortly. "I think you completely deserve that after what you did to those kids."

Bianca fell to her knees and sobbed, not even trying to hide her shame or guilt. She just wept and wept.

She wept when the handcuffs went on her wrists. She wept when she was read her rights, and as she was loaded into the car. She cried herself to sleep that night, and every night for the next few weeks. She spoke to none of Edward Savauge's men. She had no contact with family.

Fear is a terrible state to live in. And for Bianca Furtoli, it meant every day, every hour, she was preparing to return to that awful fire. She would not rest until she found a way to repent.

And for a woman who believed she was a god, that was a long way off.

—

Marinette awoke to a cool hand on her forehead. She shivered under her blankets, but her face felt so warm.

"Hi there, Ladybug." Said John, setting a cup of water on her table. "You've got a little bit of a fever. That's expected, and it's not too high."

"Cold…" She breathed in her half awakened state.

"Of course. I'll get you a blanket in a second. How is everything else feeling? How's your pain?"

"I can handle it. It's mild."

"Okay, I'm glad to hear that." He stepped out of the room briefly, only to return with a soft blanket. "Here we go, nice and warm." He unfurled it, and brought it up to her chin. It was fresh from the dryer, and nice and toasty. "Better?"

"Much."

"I've got some water here for you. Try to drink a little more before going back to sleep, okay?"

"Okay."

"That's a good girl. I'll be back to check on you periodically."

"John?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. For everything."

He smiled at her and squeezed her hand. "Anything for my hero."