Chapter 4: Consolation
Michael descended into the underworld and floated through the black void in which he travelled with Misty. He heard the familiar sounds of screaming and suffering that were in some parts of the nether realms, and the bats flew past him with their little squeaks and fragile wings flapping about. He smiled, his heart fluttering lightly as he came near the precipice of the great hall very similar to the main lobby of the Hawthorne school. The fire was flickering the square firepit, and he used his pyrokinesis to make the flames rise higher to signal his return. Once he stepped in, Misty was no where to be found. She's still resting, he thought to himself. In his mind's eye, a vision formulated of her whereabouts in this part of the underworld. He could hear faint singing and light sobbing. Soon, the sound became clearer, as if he was actually hearing it. He followed the sound to the source, and it was the same closed door to the room he had shown her that would serve as their bedroom.
"I saw my reflection…
in the…snow covered hills…"
Michael drew nearer, hearing the sorrow and longing in Misty's singing. It also sounded ghostly, echoing softly through the realm. As a matter of fact, it was better than hearing shrill screams in the void.
"Til the landslide brought me down…"
His heart broke again to hear her break out into crying again, sniffling and struggling to gain her composure.
"Well, I've been… afraid of… changin'… 'cause I…"
He tried to be quiet opening the closed door, turning the knob and stepping in to find Misty, still in her white maxi dress, wrapping herself in her shawl to comfort herself while she was captive in this miserable realm of existence. Her back was to the door, her golden curls matted and glossy from not having been washed in a few days. Her boots, however, were off and resting on the floor in front of Michael as he stepped in. She stopped singing, and curled up even tighter in her fetal position, sobbing uncontrollably. The man tried to be undetected as he reached into the side drawer and pulled out a jewelry box, opening it slightly to see the contents inside before he sat on the bed closest to the door. He had the box on his lap as he leaned to gently shake the swamp witch.
"Shh… Misty, my darling," he whispered. "I've come back."
She was unresponsive, but not sobbing anymore. He could hear her sniffling. He continued to speak to her, however.
"I… have a gift for you," he said. "Please… turn to face me."
Misty did more than that, though, and on her own. Michael didn't need to use mind control. She wiped her eyes on her shawl and sniffled, but still looked down. I'll fix that, he thought as he tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. His lips turned to a closed mouth smile, but Misty was not amused in the slightest.
"Much better," he sighed. "Wipe those beautiful eyes."
He used his fingertip to wipe any tears she missed, and she remained silent. His fingers gently brushed her cheek before he reached down to his lap and procured the velvet jewelry box containing her gift. Misty looked down at it in confusion.
"I…I didn't know they had jewelry in hell," she said in her light Southern twang.
"Oh," Michael said with a chuckle. "I can give you anything you want. I can give you anything I want to give you as well. The underworld is full of riches that people up on earth can only dream of."
She looked down at the box, and he faced it open toward her, and what was contained within caught her interest greatly. It was a pendant on a chain; nothing too extravagant save for the bright malachite green color in the gemstone. It seemed to have a mystical glow emanating from it, and Michael could even see the glow in the reflections of her eyes, and it seemed to blink after a little bit. He saw the first smile on her face the entire time so far being with him.
"There's a smile," he said. "Allow me…"
He took the necklace from the box, but Misty protested coyly: "I…I can't accept that."
"Why not?" he asked. "It is for you, after all."
"H-How much… do you mind if… I ask…"
"No need to ask," he said. "Don't worry about it."
Misty nodded and turned around, accepting his gift. She moved her hair to the side and he slowly worked the chain around the front of her neck, clasping the back. He was so tempted to press his lips on the part of her skin the clasp rested against, but he fought the temptation. Instead, he had her turn to face him, so he could see how it looked on her. It was radiant, and still continued to glow like a verdant ember.
"Radiant," he whispered.
"T-Thank you," Misty said, looking down at the pendant in a single glance. "It's beautiful."
"I also want to show you something," he said. He stood up from the bed and looked down at Misty, whose bright blue eyes were full of curiosity. "Please, come with me."
He extended his hand, and with hers shaking, she took it, sighing as he guided her to stand up from the bed. She did, and let him take the lead out of the room and down one of the narrow hallways leading to a study-like room with bookshelves lining the walls. Past this was what appeared to be a bathroom with a large, square bathtub filled with sweet-smelling suds and warm water. On the side of the door leading into it was a hanging rack, on which there was a silk short-sleeve vintage dress with colorful embroidery on the neckline, a pair of silk stockings, and a pair of mules with kitten heels that matched the dress beautifully. Misty's attention was first caught by the outfit, and she reached to feel the fabric. The silk was luxurious; silk wasn't something she was particularly used to, but this felt very nice.
"This is cute," she said under her breath.
"I knew you'd like it," Michael said. "That's why I picked it out for you to wear."
"B-But my shawl… my clothes…"
"I won't take them from you," he said kindly. "They are yours."
"I-Is this bath for me?" she asked naively.
"Yes," he said. "I knew it would help you relax and take some stress off you." He went over to the tub and waded his hand in the water to feel the temperature. "You may want to get in before it cools down even more."
"I… ain't gonna take a bath with you in here," Misty responded, her cheeks blushing. "Can I have privacy?"
Michael moved closer to her, unlacing the front of her dress with ease to get her started; "your wish is my command."
He left the room, and she wasted no time getting out of her clothes. Once she was naked, she stepped into the rich sweet suds floating in the tub and sat down. The warmth eased her muscles fully and she sighed, leaning her head back on the tile wall. The scent in the room was intoxicating, enough for her to see flowers growing in front of her, all around outside of the bathtub walls. Misty smiled euphorically and giggled, looking and seeing the greenery sprout up around her. To her right were shocking white lilies of the valley, larkspurs to her right paired with thorny red roses, and toward her feet was a single narcissus that sparkled luminously. Misty was enchanted by the hallucination, leaning over to touch the flower's captivating petals. However, a bumblebee started to formulate in the air, and it caught her attention. She could hear it buzzing, along with a fairy-like jingle as the plant sparkled.
Bzzz….bzzzz…
"What is this?" she asked herself.
She took her hand away from the narcissus and had an idea. This can't be real, she thought, this is Hell, flowers don't grow down here. The bee still buzzed around her head, but when she acted on her idea, it seemed to fade away. She held her nose and submerged the top half of her body in the tub, shutting her eyes and hearing the fluid swishing near her ears. She took a few moments and came back up for air, gasping and seeing the flowers, the bee, and the glowing narcissus were all gone. She sighed with disappointment and continued to clean herself up, washing her hair and body. When she finished, she got out and let the water sink down the drain. She found a towel and dried herself off entirely. Walking over to the outfit Michael selected for her, she examined the luxurious silk and the floral embroidery, feeling the smooth weave. When she was ready, she put on the dress, the stockings, and slid on the mules that matched. She was still wearing the necklace, which glowed a bright green hue against her skin.
Misty walked out of the bathroom and took a deep breath, exhaling before she went out to walk around. This place was so dark and gloomy, yet also quite homey. In a weird way, it reminded her of a cozy lodge during the autumn season, the smell of sweet firewood burning throughout the halls. She looked above her to see very modern-styled chandeliers, also providing light. She heard a familiar song start to play, the beginning jingle catching her attention enough to follow the sound. She walked down the hall and started to hum… and then sing along:
"Wait a minute baby…
Stay with me a while…"
She reached what looked to be a dining room, and before she could look at the massive meal set out on the table for her and Michael to share, she sang the next line along with the music, which was playing in the room:
"You said you'd give me light,
But you never told me 'bout the fire…"
Her eyes widened at the sight of Michael at the head of the table, drinking what looked like wine from a silver goblet. In front of him was a roast honey ham with pineapple pinned to the glazed skin with toothpicks, hot cross buns, fresh snapped peas, carrot slices, butternut squash, pumpkin and pomegranate seeds in a very strange mixture as a finger food, and a large serving dish of what looked to be casserole. She was taken aback, and she certainly did not have an appetite at all. Her stomach actually felt sick; sick with the worry and thought of Cordelia going crazy above ground now that she, her beloved swamp witch, was missing.
"Ah, how was your bath, dear?" Michael asked. "May I offer you something to eat?"
"Uh… it was nice," Misty replied politely, "but…"
He saw her shake her head, and he stood up to meet her gaze, walking over to her: "what's the matter? Is nothing to your liking? I could change a few things, if you want me to."
"No, no…" Misty replied, "I just… ain't hungry."
"You'll get weak, my love," Michael said, caressing her face softly, "but… perhaps something else is in order, then."
"W-What would that be?" she asked him, eyeing him suspiciously. He took her hand and led her to what looked to be an empty, plain wall. Yet she was met with shock as Michael telekinetically destroyed the outer surface, holding out his hand to channel his power and might into revealing a black reflective surface. The wall crackled slowly and fell down at their feet, making a mess. Her eyes were wide, and she looked back at him.
"W-What is this?" she asked.
"A black mirror," Michael said with a smile, "with which to scry into other realms and receive visions."
"Visions?" Misty questioned.
"Yes, my dear," he said, "take a look into it. What do you see?"
She tried to peer through the black reflective surface, but saw nothing but the mirror itself and a faint reflection of she and Michael. However, his face was slightly whiter and his eyes were black.
"I… don't see much," she replied. "But your face… you look different."
"Do not be disturbed by my true form," Michael replied encouragingly. "Look closer, feel it in your core. What do you see?"
I want to see my friends and Miss Cordelia, she thought to herself, very sure Michael was reading every single thought. Then, it was like the mirror spiraled in the center, distorting and becoming a window of sorts into another world. This world was only slightly brighter; it was near sunrise, but the sky was a cloudy gray and raindrops fell mercilessly. Cordelia was up early, having Earl Gray and sitting at her desk with what looked to be a crystal ball resting in front of her. Misty could see her Supreme start to cry, saddened and distressed once again at her disappearance.
"I see…" Misty began quietly.
"What do you see, my dear?" Michael asked.
"Cordelia," she said sadly, tears nearly falling from her eyes.
"What is your Supreme doing?" he cooed, whispering in her ear as he held her from behind seductively, his hands gently grazing her hips and abdomen over the silk dress he gifted her. As if in a trance, she answered him, eyes locked on the vision in the black mirror.
"Drinkin' tea… she's got a crystal ball… she's…"
"What is she doing, my dear?" he cooed once again, sliding a hand up the side of her dress and barely caressing the part of her leg not covered by the silk stockings. Misty's heart rate increased, and her light skin began to flush pink from what Michael was doing to her. His other hand moved higher to just below her small bosom, and he could feel her heart like a butterfly under his palm.
"She's looking for me…" she whined softly. "But…"
"But…what?" Michael asked softly, breathing against her neck. Misty could feel a foreign heat forming between her legs, and her whole body shook with anticipation, letting her words flow out as smooth as cream.
"She can't."
Michael inhaled the intoxicating scent from her neck and soft golden curls, now clean and fresh from her bath. He could almost feel a bulge rising in his pants, but he needed to control his demonic, primal urges. She's a virgin, he thought to himself, I can feel it. I cannot take her yet. She is too good, too pure… I want her to stay that way. I may never take her. I don't know if I could bear it. He nevertheless turned her around by the waist, and as if under a spell, her bright blue eyes looked up at his piercing blue-green ones, and he smiled down at her.
"Would you like for her to see you, dear?" he asked.
"Yes… yes!" Misty said pleadingly. "Oh please, Michael. Please let her see me. I want her to know I am okay and I am safe!"
"As you wish."
Michael took his left palm and, with his other hand on Misty's waist, he took away the distortion present on the surface, starting from the bottom, working his way to the top. To Misty, it was like he was pulling up a window shade, as if to remove the obstruction in front of the only window that separated their worlds. Then, it was like the vision Misty had became so much clearer, and Michael stood off to the side to not be seen by Cordelia, who seemed to be smiling into the crystal ball. Misty smiled and waved at her Supreme through the mirror.
"Hi! Miss Cordelia!" she said.
She could see her mouthing words into the crystal ball and tearing up happily, putting a hand to her heart as if she were relieved.
"I am safe! I am okay! I'm unharmed!" Misty said happily, giving a twirl in front of the mirror. "Like my new dress? It's all silk."
Cordelia seemed to smile even more in her vision, nodding and mouthing more words. Again, Misty could not hear her. She went by sheer intuition as to how she really felt behind that mirror.
"He is takin' very good care of me, Miss Cordelia," Misty said smiling, looking over at Michael, who then took the liberty to step into view. Then, it was like Cordelia's smile faded to a glum, sullen look of resentment and anger.
"Now, my dear," Michael said to Misty, "you can see Miss Cordelia whenever you want."
"Does this mean… I'll never be up with her again?" Misty asked worriedly.
"Are you happy with me down here?" Michael questioned, staring down into her eyes.
Misty thought for a moment; "I-I do feel a little different than I did when I first came."
"As do I."
"You do?"
"Yes…" Michael began, "it's almost like a part of me that never existed has been born. A part of me that feels true tenderness for a human being, of all things."
He caressed her face softly and smiled, turning her to face him and tilting her chin up to stare into her bright eyes before leaning down and pressing his lips to hers. Misty did not even bother fighting it – his lips were cool, yet smooth, yet it was like primordial fire danced on his lips. He wrapped his arms lightly around her waist, and her hands rested on his shoulders as he picked her up in the kiss, spinning her around. When he put her down, he broke the kiss, looked down into her eyes for a few moments, and without hesitating, he leaned to kiss her neck. Misty felt like she was on the verge of fainting, nearly collapsing before he picked her up bridal style and away from the mirror, out of the room, and out of Cordelia's view.
"Oh my god…" Cordelia said tearfully.
Myrtle, who had just gotten ready for the day, was dressed in a navy-blue vintage designer dress and stepped into Cordelia's bedroom, hearing her Supreme crying. She saw the crystal ball on the table and pulled a chair up near her daughter-figure, patting her shoulder in consolation.
"What do you see, dear bird?" the old witch asked.
Through heavy, sorrowful sobs, Cordelia managed to get out: "s-she is with him… s-she is happy… s-she won't l-leave him n-n-now…"
"What makes you believe that? Misty is one of our own," Myrtle said.
"I know what I saw, Myrtle," the blonde Supreme said, sitting up and wiping her eyes with the kerchief Myrtle extended to her for her use. "She was standing in the underworld, a large table with food behind her… I-I hope she hasn't eaten any…"
"Like Persephone from the Greek myths, she would be bound to Hades forever," Myrtle said metaphorically, alluding to the strange disappearance of their beloved sister witch.
"She was dressed in all silk… beautiful dress…" Cordelia continued, "and then… Michael came into full view. I was so happy to see she was safe, but she is not safe with him, Myrtle."
"Let the girl go for a bit," the old witch's advice was. "Just for a bit. I am sure he will need to release her up here at some point or another."
"No! No way!" Cordelia protested. "I lost her once, and I refuse to lose her again."
"Delia, life is too short," her mother-figure told her frankly, her voice dancing eloquently as she continued; "you have other witches who desperately need your attention. Sweet Mallory's powers are growing, that snobbish wench Coco needs an attitude adjustment, and your council need your wisdom and structure. They all need you. We even have a few new students coming within the next month who submitted their applications. They cannot see their Supreme preoccupied. They need to see her at her strongest and most potent…" She lifted Cordelia's chin up comfortingly, "with a smile on her face."
"S-She is so lost," the Supreme replied, crying again. "She told me herself when Michael brought her back. She even said to me he reeked of death. W-Why? I don't understand… w-why is she with him… and w-why is she h-happy?"
"We know that boy is up to no good," Myrtle said. "But Misty is a grown woman… I am sure he will smarten up and realize she is better off up here."
"Unless we think of a plan," Cordelia suggested, standing up and pacing near the table where her teacup and crystal ball rested. "One of us needs to go down there and get her out of there."
"You couldn't even save her. What makes you think you can do it successfully now? Or even one of our girls?" Myrtle challenged.
"I won't put them at risk," Cordelia said. "But maybe it is the case that I cannot return her here, still. I am not Michael, but perhaps we can make a deal."
"A deal? With him?"
"Yes, to buy us some time. A contract, maybe. Something!" Cordelia stated. "I don't know… maybe we should call the council and see what they say."
"Good thinking. I'll postpone the evening gathering so that this can take place," Myrtle said. "Don't fret, dear."
That evening, Cordelia and Myrtle stood before Zoe, Queenie, and Madison in the ancestry room as scheduled for their meeting to bounce ideas off each other regarding Misty being in Michael's hellish custody. The Supreme had to keep from breaking down in front of everyone like she had since Misty was taken from them. Struggling to keep her composure, she began to speak.
"Thanks everyone for being here," she said. "I… was able to peer into the underworld to see where Misty was being kept."
"What'd you see?" Zoe asked, leaning forward and listening attentively.
"I saw her… she looked and seemed happy… she told me she was doing alright, and she was not harmed," the Supreme said. "She was dressed in black silk… like none I'd ever seen before. She was waving at me… and then Michael stepped into view… and they…"
"They what?"
"T-They kissed right in front of me…" Cordelia said tearfully, wiping her eyes, "and he carried her away from… whatever they were using to see into this world, our world."
"So… she's happy?" Madison asked with confusion. "Why not leave her?"
"We can't leave her down there," Cordelia protested. "I won't allow it a minute more."
"Misty is one of us," Zoe said. "Cordelia asked Michael to bring you, Queenie and Misty back from hell for a reason."
"But if she's happy, why ruin that for her?" Madison asked. "Hell, let her eat and dress grandly. Give the girl something to look forward to."
"She must miss us," Cordelia said. "I don't understand. Why would she kiss him like that?"
Queenie, who had sat silent for most of the time, came up with a crazy idea. Descensum was one of her specialties, and though it was a dangerous feat for most witches, she was able to do it several times and make it back alive. Her voice and notion broke the room's chatter.
"I volunteer to go down there," she said.
Jaws dropped, and Cordelia gasped; "no… no way! I won't let you get hurt."
"I won't get hurt," the obese African-American woman stated confidently, standing up and walking toward her as if to challenge her. "I've gone to hell even before I passed it in the Seven Wonders a few years ago. I spent a while dead with the most boring white people in the Cortez… so I think I can handle going down to do something to bring Misty back."
"Are you certain?" Myrtle asked Queenie, who nodded, biting her lip.
"Yes."
"You haven't brought a soul back from the underworld," Cordelia said, holding her sister witch's hand. "Are you sure you want to attempt this?"
"Positive," Queenie said. "It's the only way at this point. You want Misty back, don't you?"
"Well, if you're going to," Zoe said, standing up, "we better plan when. We should take a look into the underworld and see how things are before you go down. You don't want to make him mad."
Cordelia thought for a moment and sighed – "the full moon is in three days time. You will do it then. Before you descend you'll be anointed."
"Why?" Queenie asked with incredulity. "I can do this on my own. I've done it so many times. I don't need to be 'anointed', Cordelia." She took a breath and nodded. "I am going down into hell at the rise of the full moon, anointed or not. I can do this."
The room was struck silent, and Queenie looked over to see that there was the crystal ball sitting on the coffee table. She took a seat and started to peer into it, closing her eyes and waving her hand over the surface.
"Please… tell me how she is doing," Cordelia said, "can you see anything?"
"I'm working on it," Queenie said, gazing into the crystal to see into the world below theirs…
Michael's eyes jolted open from his slumber and he sat up. He was wearing nothing under the sheets that also covered Misty, who was dressed in simple undergarments, sleeping on her side restfully. He turned over to look at her sleeping face, gently caressing her diamond jawline before he stood up and put on a black silk bathrobe. His intuition called for him to go to the black mirror, the only window to the mortal coil in this part of the underworld. He walked to the dining room and toward the reflective black surface, making the same gesture he did before when with Misty to clear it for viewing from both sides. He gasped to see the large, wide face of Queenie in a circle.
"Queenie," he said with a chuckle and a smile. "What a surprise."
"Michael, hey," she said nervously. "Uh… can I talk to you?"
"Why sure! Go ahead!" he said with an eerie friendliness.
"Okay so, we know you have Misty. Cordelia is not happy with you just taking her off like that," the witch said. "It's pretty rude to just take someone back to hell when you went through all the trouble of resurrecting her."
Michael took a sigh in through his nose like he usually did and smiled; "she is free to go whenever she wants, but I'll have you know, she is happy down here with me."
"What did you do to her?" Queenie asked.
"Nothing," Michael chuckled; there was humanlike charm to his humor right then. "Nothing except treat her like an absolute queen, like she deserves to be. I gave her a lovely silk dress, I conjured a nice dinner for her, which she wasn't hungry for, and I gifted her a glowing malachite pendant. I play Stevie Nicks for her every chance I get, and it gives me… such joy, to see her twirling about, happy as a clam."
"You took me and Madison back to the mortal coil," she asked him through the crystal ball. "Why didn't you pick one of us? Why did it have to be Misty?"
Michael shook his head and inhaled through his nose again; "because you are not my type. You're too rough around the edges. Too assertive. Madison is just hungry for dick and lacks any sort of humility… whereas Misty… she is not any of those things. She is good. She is pure. She is too good even for me, but she brings out the humanity in me."
Queenie sat and listened to him through the black mirror, on her crystal ball on the other side. Michael just continued.
"I knew when I saw her in the mortal coil, bringing her back, I had to have her. I had to keep her. Her light was overwhelming. I love Misty, and I will see to it she becomes my bride."
"You can't! We won't let you!" Queenie shouted. "Don't make me come down there!"
"Or what?" Michael asked. "You should be more scared if I come up there. So… leave us alone. If Misty wants to return by her free will, then she may."
With that, Michael reversed the gesture he did on the black mirror and sighed, shaking his head. How dare these bitches ruin his one chance at happiness besides being Supreme in Cordelia's place one day? I'm the son of Satan himself, he thought, I am the king of Hell. Misty is soon to be my queen. I can't let them stop me. I need to act fast. Misty is mine.
Michael knew that since as far back as the Greeks, if a soul ventured to the underworld and ate or drank anything given to them, they would be bound to that plane for all eternity. He went to the dining room, where the bowl of pomegranate and pumpkin seeds still stood, unspoiled and fresh as ever, and took a handful of them. He ate six of the contents, three pomegranate seeds and three pumpkin. He then took his silver goblet, half full of wine, and drank the rest only to replenish it right away by waving his hand over the open rim.
Hold a wedding, he mused, and as part of the ceremony, have her drink from my cup and eat some of these seeds. She will never be able to leave.
"Michael?"
He turned around and saw Misty there, standing in her lacey, nearly-translucent camisole and knickers that fit loosely enough to be more like pajamas. However, she modesty covered herself with the white shawl she came down into the underworld wearing. He smiled back at her and gestured her to come toward him, and she did. Her movements were slow and ginger.
"How did you sleep, my darling?" he asked her, both hands on her face. She nodded, her expression calm and serene.
"Like a baby," she answered.
"Do you want to see Cordelia again?" Michael offered, almost taking her toward the big black mirror against the wall. However, he felt resistance when trying to lead her over. Misty stayed put.
"N-Not right now."
Michael's eyes widened at her in surprise. He didn't say anything, though he got an idea why she didn't, at least in that moment. He too saw how Cordelia looked at them through her crystal ball as he kissed her.
"I am… gettin' used to it down here," Misty continued. "It's… been a lot but… I am alright, and…you ain't gonna hurt me…"
"No, never," Michael responded, taking her left hand into his and getting down on one knee, looking up at her. "I'd never lay a hand on you or harm you in any way. If you love someone, you do not ever hurt them, let alone consider it."
Misty leaned down a little to meet his piercing gaze, and he continued to speak, and she could tell it was from his heart, and it made her nearly swoon. Intuition and common sense were out the window – Michael had taken such good care of her, and as he promised, he didn't hurt her in the slightest.
"You are my exact other half, Misty. Please say," he said, impassioned, "that you'll marry me."
"Marry?" Misty asked. "H-How? There's no church down here… no weddin' gown, no weddin' cake, no bridesmaids, no one to give me away… how?"
"Not right away of course," Michael corrected himself, "more like… in 3 days if it were still up in the mortal coil. I will have the time to arrange everything. It will not be a conventional ceremony. Think of it as…" He needed to word his sentences very carefully, as to not give away his plan; "a soiree."
"A…what?"
"It's a very sophisticated kind of party, my dear," Michael said. "There will be guests. I know one of your friends is also in the underworld and has been for some time."
Misty couldn't place who, but she nodded in understanding. "A…wedding soiree."
"Yes, dear," he said. "So… will you?"
What choice did she have? She was trapped in this place indefinitely once again – "yes."
A/N:
It really shocks me to know how many Michael x Misty shippers there are in the AHS fandom. Special shoutout to the few Guests, as well as Winchestergirl123 and Jeomnda for your helpful reviews! So glad you like my little comeback. Review, Favorite and Follow if you enjoy this story! Stay tuned!