Chapter 3: Back in the Underworld

Cordelia had been tired enough to take a nap at around two o'clock, resting sideways on one of the white sofas in her office. She had yawned widely before closing her eyes. In no time, she was fast asleep, breathing silently. However, her dream was far from silent.

"Help me. You gotta save me…"

It was like Cordelia was walking down a hallway, bats squeaking and flying past her, almost getting tangled in her sleek, clean blonde hair. She held a lantern in front of her from the top handle, looking ahead in the darkness of this strange yet familiar world.

"Hello?" she called out. She could hear numerous screams and shouts, and the uncanny sound of heavy wind ripping through the air, echoing through what seemed to be a dark chamber. The echoes of heavy, shrill screams from both sexes filled the silent void as she descended deeper.

"Help! Please!"

"Where are you? W-Who is it?" Cordelia asked again out into the void.

"Miss Cordelia, it's me!" a familiar voice shouted back. "It's me!" She could smell the familiar earthy scent of patchouli, and in the distance, she could see the faint movement of a white fringed shawl and the curling of golden locks.

"Misty!"

Her eyes shot open, and she felt her heart drop. She sat up and breathed heavily, tearful from what she saw in her dream. She knew that the witch she treasured so well was missing and in great peril. She heard footsteps down the hall and bolted up from her place on the sofa and opened the closed door. She went forth near the grand staircase, where she saw Mallory crying heavily with a distressed Myrtle and Zoe by her side. Her sweet face was beet red as she sobbed, which only got more intense when she saw Cordelia, who went forward and gathered the young witch in her arms.

"What happened?!" she exclaimed. "Is it Misty?"

"Yes… I tried to protect her… she is gone!" Mallory wept. "I promised to you that I would be one…of us, to protect her, and I failed!"

Cordelia looked down at her, taking a kerchief held out by Myrtle and wiping her eyes. "You need to calm down and tell me everything that happened."

"She was the only one to witness her disappearance," Myrtle chimed in. "Gather yourself, girl."

Misty really didn't know where she was. This place was dark, depressing and all-too familiar. The faint sounds of shrill screaming filled her ears and gave her the heebie-jeebies. Thank God I'm not killin' frogs over and over, she thought, but where am I? She was also no longer under Michael's forceful grasp, hand over her mouth and arm around her arms and torso. Instead, he was holding her hand, leading her to where it was that he had planned to take her away to. They eventually came up to a dark hallway with what looked to be a fire at the very end of it. They got closer, and that was what it was – a large, square fire pit in the center of a darkened hallway. Being raised Christian, this is exactly what Misty was taught what Hell would be like. If that were the case, Michael was the king of it. At the precipice, Michael moved aside and let Misty step foot into the hallway first, immediately following her.

"We're here," he said, delighted as he took in a deep breath through his nose. The smell of earthy patchouli from Misty as well as firewood crackling in the fire pit heightened his senses. However, the look on Misty's face disheartened him.

"Where am I? Where is… everyone?"

"This is paradise, my dear," Michael said, walking in front of her and staring down into her eyes. "At least, compared to the other places in this realm."

"I… wanna go home!" she said, her eyes full of tears. "Please take me back… please!"

"That won't be necessary," Michael said, putting his cool, smooth hands on her shoulders. "I gave you life, and I wish to give you way more."

"There ain't nothin' you can possible give me except for my life back," Misty whined. "Above this place!"

Misty, distraught and sick to her stomach from anxiety at what happened, charged at the precipice of the long, void-like hallway to try and leave.

"No one will hear you," Michael said calmly. "No one will hear you scream over the many souls already screaming down here."

"NO!" Misty screamed. "CORDELIA! HELP!"

"She could not even save you," Michael reminded her, going near her in the dark void and holding her hand. She smacked it away from her and grunted.

"Don't touch me!"

"I am your only chance at leaving, if I let you leave," the handsome blond man said to her. "I highly suggest you cooperate with me and stay here."

"I don't wanna," Misty cried, going back into the wide hallway with the fire pit, Michael standing there. She collapsed to her knees and held her shawl close to her face, sobbing into the cool, refreshing fabric. Michael was not one for strong, let alone sympathetic feelings, but he felt bad that Misty was so sad being away from Miss Robicheaux's. He leaned down and tried to console the white witch, who's sobbing filled the room and possibly the entire void they descended. He procured a handkerchief from his sleeve and lifted her chin up to meet his gaze, and he lulled her quiet.

"Shh," he cooed as he wiped the tears from her eyes. "I know this is a lot, my dear. Trust me, I have only the best intentions with you. I want to give you anything you want as you spend time down here."

He helped her to her feet, and she stumbled a bit. After all, she could barely catch her breath sobbing so much, so she was lightheaded.

"Maybe it's time for you to get some rest," he suggested. "You've had a long trip after all."

Mallory sat in front of Cordelia's desk, along with Myrtle at the chair next to her, and Zoe stood up behind Cordelia. Also present were Madison, Queenie, and Coco, who took seats on the upholstered chairs and sofas nearby in the room. It was an hour after they got home from the suddenly-ceased field trip to the swamps, and Mallory had time to compose herself. She adjusted her gilded leaf headband and sniffled a bit, looking at her Supreme.

"So you were tasked by Myrtle to follow close behind Misty when she went off to explore her old home?" she asked.

"Yes, and I did," Mallory replied. "Everything seemed normal until she went into the house. When she did, I hung around outside. I didn't think anything was wrong until I went to check inside."

"What the hell were you doing outside?" Coco retorted. "Tiptoeing through the tulips? Why didn't you just go in with her and look at her old shack together?!"

"Coco, please," Myrtle said with annoyance at her attitude. "Calm down. We are all trying to figure this out. Let her speak, if you will." Coco responded by crossing her arms and taking a huffy breath.

"When did you decide to go in and check things out?" Zoe asked.

"I noticed she took too long," Mallory said. "It was maybe 20 minutes."

"What did you see when you went in?"

"I… saw a tall blond man, quite handsome actually… in a black suit… he was looking at her like… he wanted her… in that way," Mallory explained. "His vibes were really bad."

"What happened next?" Cordelia asked, her dark eyes looking at the novice.

"Then… b-before she could say anything, she turned into black ash. He… grabbed her. He had his hand over her mouth, other arm wrapped around her arms and chest so she couldn't wiggle away, and they… turned to ash… we went back and noticed that there was no black ash to be seen," she answered.

"There wasn't," Zoe said. "I can verify that. I walked in first, and there was not even a sign of a struggle or anything. But… I did find this."

Zoe went a bit closer to Cordelia's desk and got Misty's boombox, picking it up to show everyone in the room.

"Even touching this gives me the creeps," Zoe said. "I think I know who did it."

"Me too," Cordelia said. "As soon as you all walked back in, I had woken up from a dream."

"A dream?" Myrtle asked.

"Yes."

"Do you remember it?"

"Yes… I was going down this long hallway… a void," Cordelia described, "and I heard screaming and bats were flying around. It was… hellish."

"Hellish? D-Did you see anything?" Queenie asked, speaking up and inquiring about Misty's disappearance. "Did you go into Descensum in your sleep?"

"I-I'm not sure, but I do know, I saw a figure," Cordelia said, starting to tear up. "Misty was wearing white today. A dress and a shawl… and I saw a hint of her. She was…begging for help…"

Everyone looked at their Supreme as she broke down crying in front of them. Zoe inched forward and patted her back to provide some consolation, but it did no good.

"I dread losing her…" she whined, her voice cracking. "I lost her once before…"

"T-There must be some way to get her back," Mallory said.

"It isn't that simple dear," Myrtle replied.

"Michael was the one who brought her back… I-I know he has her… I don't know why he took her back… that poor girl…" Cordelia cried. "That is something even I can't do. I can descend but I cannot take a soul back… and that sounds like that is what he did with her."

"So she's trapped in Hell again?" Madison asked incredulously.

"I wonder if the boy has some agenda," Myrtle inquired, "keeping that innocent girl kept in Hell with him. He passed all of the Seven Wonders before our eyes, and I wonder if he is-"

"Don't rub it in," Cordelia said sadly, still crying as she wiped her eyes on a tissue. "I suspect that myself." She sniffled and felt her heart racing with anger and frustration. "We need to get Misty out of there."

"Do you think the Hawthorn warlocks are behind it all?" Queenie asked.

"I am not sure… but we are going to find out."

Myrtle had booked a flight to California to once again visit the Hawthorn School for Exceptional Young Men, and it was set to leave the following night as it was the soonest flight available. Flying first class, she, Cordelia, Zoe, Queenie, and Madison made it there safely, settled into their hotel room. They were able to order exquisite room service to get food before calling a meeting with the Chancellor, Ariel Augustus, as well as the rest of the council at Hawthorn. The meal consisted of champagne, lobster bisque, hot rolls, and a Glover salad. They hired a chauffeur from a private company to drive them to the property on which stood the weird spiral structure that led into the school underground. However, the now-three members of the council stood outside in black finery to greet them before they could even think to enter. The most noticeable was Ariel, a black fedora topping his bald head and a seemingly-heavy black cloak with red lining and an elaborate silver brooch to hold it together. To his left was Chablis Behold, a tall African-American man with a prominent black fabric flower corsage and green gem in the center of an equal-armed cross pin. To his right was the demure and shy Baldwin Pennypacker, who large, black-rimmed glasses framed his smiling, polite eyes, his hands clasped in front of him to graciously accept their guests once again.

"Good afternoon ladies," Ariel said in his light Spanish accent. "I welcome you once again. So…" He took a sip of his glass of water from the table at which they gathered – the warlocks were on one side of the long table, and the witches on the other, Cordelia in the middle of them to signify her authority over them, "why have we gathered this time?"

"I'll cut to the chase," Cordelia said, clearly not happy. "Michael has taken Misty Day."

Baldwin and Behold's eyes widened in shock, looking at their Chancellor – "it can't be!" the demure man with glasses said.

"How do you know for sure, Miss Cordelia?" Behold asked insistently, his effeminate lisp heard throughout the hall.

"We had a meeting after some of our girls returned to the school from a field trip," Cordelia said.

"Yes, one of our dear girls, Mallory," Myrtle began, recalling her testimony, "witnessed her in the arms of this… tall, handsome stranger before they disintegrated to ash. The horror!"

"When we went to investigate ourselves," Zoe chimed in, "there was no ash, or any sign of a struggle."

"I don't want to accuse you of being behind it, but I suspect you are, enough to do so," the Supreme said outright. "Where is Misty? What has he done to her?"

"How dare you?!" Ariel lashed, his voice hissing like a serpent.

"Preposterous! How dare you accuse us of being a part of her disappearance?!" Behold exclaimed. "I saw Michael myself! There was no woman, let alone Misty, with him!"

"SHE'S IN HELL AGAIN!" Cordelia shouted. "HE TOOK HER DOWN THERE! She isn't up here in the mortal coil!" She had to swallow the tears that were about to deluge in her dark eyes. "I lost her once, and I refuse to lose her again!"

"Wait!" Baldwin said, standing up and trying to peacefully mediate the madness in the room. "Miss Cordelia, what makes you think it was Michael, when it was he who returned her?"

Cordelia had that thought cross her mind briefly during all of this, but she, as well as the rest of her witches, knew that there was a hidden agenda afoot. If the Supreme lost one of her most valued and prized witches, then it would make her powerless, and thus allowing someone as vibrationally unscrupulous and malevolent as Michael to take over the supremacy.

"We can summon him here right now," Ariel declared, "so you can see he is indeed up here, in the mortal coil, and not in some… nether realm."

"I'll get him," Baldwin offered, getting up from his seat and telekinetically sliding the doors open. However, he gasped at the sight before him – Michael was standing there at full attention, somewhat taken aback from the fact he was discovered, likely eavesdropping. Baldwin offered the young man a smile and nodded.

"Uh, Michael! Just who I wanted to see," he said, gesturing a hand out. Michael stepped into the room and looked at the witches one by one – Queenie, Madison, Cordelia, Myrtle, and lastly, Zoe. "Well… we, as you can see."

"Weren't you just here?" the young man asked, putting his hands behind his back.

Cordelia wanted to just break off his arms and send him up the elevator chute to the terrain above. It took all of her might, all of her power to stop herself from launching him across the room against the many bookshelves lining the walls.

"We were, yes," Myrtle said, standing up; she knew if she let Cordelia up, she'd try to hurt him severely. "We know you have Misty Day. Fess up, boy!"

"What makes you think I would do anything to her?" Michael asked, an eerie calmness to his voice. "What makes you assume outright I would go through the trouble of sending her back to Hell, when I went through so much to bring her back?"

"He's trying to confuse you," Myrtle whispered to Cordelia.

"He is not," Ariel said, standing his ground and hearing her utterance. "Michael?"

Having caught his attention, his piercing blue-green eyes met his superior's. "Yes?"

"Please… tell us the truth," he instructed. "Did you take Misty back to those godforsaken nether realms?"

Michael was quiet for a moment before answering: "no."

"I told you," Behold said, pointing his finger flamboyantly. "Preposterous accusations, ladies! Maybe next time, we shouldn't assemble any council when you ask. You're just jealous because you're in the process of being replaced."

"We are looking after our own," Cordelia said, "and I for one don't believe you or Michael. It makes me question if you are at all appropriate to take my place after I'm gone."

"I wouldn't have passed the tests you gave me if otherwise," Michael snided. "I did not touch that girl."

"That doesn't mean-"

"ENOUGH!" Ariel exclaimed, smacking the table with his palm. "Michael did not do anything to Misty. You're just afraid of losing your crown and glory, Cordelia. Stop accusing us for everything going wrong for you. Perhaps you should take better care of your own before you go accusing people of things they didn't do." He stood up. "I declare this council over and dismissed!"

All of the witches stood up on the other side of the table, and Cordelia was on the verge of tears, her anger and frustration was so intense. They all gathered around their Supreme as they made their way out of the room. However, Myrtle stopped near Ariel and whispered near his ear: "you know what is really going on. Woe be unto you all until Misty returns."

All four men, Michael included, saw to it that the witches have left Hawthorn to the ground above before they decided to meet on some parting thoughts regarding the situation. They went back into the room, and Ariel reignited the fireplace with his pyrokinesis before sitting down. Behold and Baldwin stood and looked at Michael, who telekinetically closed the sliding doors before Ariel caught his attention by clearing his throat.

"Michael," he said. "May I ask you something?"

He turned around and smiled, inhaling through his nostrils a deep breath. "Yes?"

"They know something," Ariel said. "Where did you put Misty?"

"Let's just say she isn't dissecting frogs," the young man replied.

"But where is she?" his superior asked once again. "Is she suffering?"

"No," Michael said. "I would never make that girl suffer. She is… much too beautiful and pure to endure any more than she already has. In fact, the realm down in the underworld where I put her is uncannily like this school."

"Is she your Princess Peach, Bowser?" Behold asked jokingly.

"She is my princess, and she will be my princess for as long as I want her to be," Michael said. "I don't want to let her go."

"Please make sure her basic needs are met," Ariel insisted with annoyance. "You saw how ravenous that girl was when you brought her back."

"I offered her some cake and milk last night," the young man revealed, "but she refused to eat. She was so sad. It… actually hurt me to see her sad."

"You're not one for…" Baldwin began.

"What?" Michael cut in, his eyes cutting into his superior like daggers.

"Uh… strong emotions," the man with glasses finished with a coy smile.

"I believe I love her," Michael said dreamily, deep in thought of Misty's white maxi dress and shawl, her golden curls, ethereal face, and bright blue eyes. "She is… the opposite of me. She is so beautiful and pure. She is a shining light to behold." He sighed. "She compliments me. She is too good for this world."

"Well, go and tend to her," Ariel said. "We can't keep her in Hell for very long, though. At least a few more months."

"Perhaps for the whole winter," Michael suggested.

"Cordelia will be biting our heads off by that point," Ariel said, shaking his head. "We have to think of something. If she comes back to the mortal coil so soon, it'll make us look very suspicious."

"Even you said," Behold mentioned, "she knows something is amiss, and we are partially responsible. Though it was your idea, Michael. We only went with you on it. You passed all the Seven Wonders and you're her heir, after all. We'll be bowing to you one day."

"I'll be in Descensum for a bit," Michael said. "I may give her a gift to console her."

"A gift?" Baldwin asked. "What is it?"

"Oh, it's down there," Michael replied. "I will tell you when I've come back."

The young man left the room slowly and walked up the spiral staircase to head up to the bedroom he shared with another warlock. He took off his leather shoes and black dinner jacket, getting comfortable on his bed. Looking around, he saw he was the only one in the room, with the fireplace going and a few candles lit for illumination. He took a deep breath, relaxing all of his muscles and closing his eyes, saying once, aloud and clear:

"Spiritu duce, in me est.

Deduce me in tenebris vita ad extremum,

ut salutaret inferi…"

After one more deep breath, he was off: "descensum!"

A/N:

Things are getting really heated! This is intended to be a short story (5 chapters or so), but I'm having so much fun writing again, I may just end up adding another chapter or two. Thanks to all of you who are appreciating and reading my work, and for the great reviews! I appreciate you all!

Follow and Favorite if you like! Stay tuned for what happens next, especially since our warlocks are getting involved.