Hello, my lovelies! I know I'm only a day late, but I would like to apologize anyway since I'm normally good about keeping to my schedule. I'm still getting used to living without my parents while going to school, so, as odd as it sounds, I'm still working on forming a new routine. Well...now that I've gotten that out of the way, it's time for disclaimers! I do not own Welcome to Hell. That honor belongs to Erica Wester. I do, however, own all of my original ideas. A big thank you goes to my beta. Though she hasn't had an opportunity to read over the past few chapters, she still supports and encourages me, especially when I just want to give up. Without further ado, I hope you all enjoy the chappie!
Sock slowly closed the door to the Ninth Circle, ensuring that it was locked before he started down the hallway. Oddly enough, today had been a slow workday. It seemed those in Heaven were currently getting more souls than the workers in Hell. For Sock, this meant that he was low on souls to torture. As strange as it was, this made Sock happier than he had been in ages. For the first time in months, the angry voice in his mind had gone silent. He had no idea if it was because he had gone to visit Jonathan or because his job in Hell satisfied the "Voice's" malicious intent. Whatever the cause, he could finally focus on his situation without being tormented in his own head.
Floating down the hallway and humming some silly pop tune, he considered what this opportunity meant for him.
He could finally think about the Jonathan situation.
He could consider his career from his own perspective rather than the perspective of the mental menace.
He could think of ways to defeat the fucking mental menace.
As soon as he came to this realization, a terrible headache hit. He immediately plummeted to the ground, clutching his head with both hands. It felt like his temples were being split in two.
'HOW DARE YOU EVEN ASSUME YOU COULD GET RID OF ME SO EASILY? DID YOU HONESTLY ASSUME MY REST MEANT YOUR ESCAPE? YOU ARE MINE FOR NOW AND UNTIL THE END OF THE TIME! DO. NOT. FORGET. THIS. AGAIN."
Sock could only whimper and nod, hoping the "Voice" would understand this response.
'GOOD. NOW RETURN TO THE NINTH CIRCLE. YOU WILL STAY THERE UNTIL MEPHISTOPHELES SUMMONS YOU.'
Sock nodded again and shakily return to his feet, floating back the way he had come.
Why did he ever think he could escape this madness?
"How many times must I apologize before you will stop commanding me to grovel at your feet?" Mephistopheles demanded, hurrying quickly toward his office.
"I will possibly consider forgiving you once you clean up your mess." Death replied curtly, following closely behind his younger brother. "You have one job! One! How could you have messed up so badly?"
Death stopped mere inches from his office door and turned to face his older brother. The Primordial Being was currently nothing more than a hulking black cloak. The pale figure underneath was hidden completely by the cloak, meaning Mephistopheles could not determine the eldest Reaper's emotions. At the very most, he could guess at Death's exasperation, but that was as far as it went. Not being able to determine the extent of his brother's anger was a very dangerous position to be in.
"Let's not forget, dear Brother, that I do not have the powers to open up the gates to Hell. You and your Reapers are the only ones with that power. This means that, though I have the power to determine the level of punishment and whether or not someone was rightfully labelled as a sinner, I do not have the ability to let souls in, nor do I have the power to release them. So, while I am guilty of not keeping a closer eye on Auriol, it was you and your Reapers who let her out."
Death froze; even the invisible currents of air that had been stirring his cloak disappeared. Mephistopheles bit his bottom lip, realizing his mistake. Whether or not he was right did not matter. One never called Death out on his mistakes.
"Our eldest brother gave you a set of simple duties." Death began coldly. "You ensure your demons register, punish, and keep track of the souls who have been deemed unworthy of Heaven's joys. You are in charge of keeping track of these demons. Simple enough, yes?"
Mephistopheles nodded, nervous. He had expected the complete wrath of his eldest brother. The disappointment and cold detachment in his voice was somehow worse. Death had always been Mephistopheles's favorite sibling and the one he could trust the most. Now it felt like he was losing the only family he had ever known. Death, aware of his brother's emotions, continued.
"So, while it may be that one of my reapers wasn't paying as much attention as they should have been, it was your lack of responsibility that allowed the escape that has led to all of this chaos. You know what must happen next."
Mephistopheles's eyes widened. "Brother, please. It doesn't need to come to that. I can take care of the situation."
Death sighed, the sound like that of breaking twigs and crackling leaves. "You are aware of the rules, young Mephistopheles. I do not like this anymore than you do, but you know that the Cataclysm is too entwined with the soul of young Napoleon. It needs to be exorcised before it can be destroyed. Otherwise, it will destroy the young spirit as well as humanity."
"But the process itself is so painful! There is no guarantee that Sock's soul will survive the procedure!"
Death didn't reply for a moment, confused by his brother referring to the endangered spirit as an article of clothing. Figuring it must be some sort of nickname, he composed himself before continuing in his attempts to convince his brother of the severity of the situation.
"I am well aware of that, Mephistopheles. You know this goes against my nature. It is my job to guide souls; I would prefer it if they did not suffer. However, this is the only way Napoleon will have any peace in the afterlife, the only way he can return to the human he has so deeply bonded with. Please realize that this is much better than leaving him to suffer until the Cataclysm takes over."
Mephistopheles buried his face in his hands, letting out a groan of frustration and sadness. He knew his elder brother was right. This was the only way to give Sock even the smallest chance of a peaceful afterlife. That didn't mean he had to like it.
"All right, I'll go get him. He'll come more willingly to me than to you. He's only seen you the one time, and it was a mere glimpse." Death nodded in agreement, and Mephistopheles was able to relax just a bit. Even though guiding Sock into a terrible situation gently and peacefully was the only thing he could do to make this better, it still alieved his guilt, even if was only slightly.
"There's no need to come find me. I'm right here."
Mephistopheles whirled, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Death had done the same.
Sock was floating in the doorway, a look of grim determination on his face. Behind him flickered the helix-shaped shadow Cataclysm.
"You don't have to convince me of anything." Sock begins before raising a hand to his temple, wincing. At the same moment, the shadow darkened and hummed almost joyfully. Mephistopheles frowned and knew Death was once again doing the same. The Cataclysm was much stronger than it had been when Sock had gone to visit the human boy. This did not bode well. Sock took a deep breath and forced himself to keep speaking. "I'll go through the exorcism willingly if it'll get rid of this damn thing and let me go back to Jon."
Mephistopheles nodded and turned to look at his older brother. Death was gazing at the young spirit thoughtfully. The Devil knew that his brother had not been expecting Sock to agree to the procedure so easily. There had only ever been one other Cataclysm, and the afflicted spirit had been dragged to the exorcism, kicking and screaming. Mephistopheles knew these were the thoughts running through his brother's mind because he was having the same thoughts. However, he also knew that a willing participant was more likely to survive the exorcism. This was nothing less than a stroke of luck, some instance of divine intervention. Before his brother could say anything that would cause Sock to be any more fearful of the procedure than he already was, he hurried forward and took one of Sock's hands in both of his own.
"All right. We'll begin the preparations immediately."
Well, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! As always, constructive criticism, reviews, and the like are always appreciated. Flat-out negativity, however, is not. See you soon!
XOXOXOXO