Author's Note: So… had a little bit of interest in this story. I'm absolutely thrilled about that. Everybody was amused by the thought of Blackheart being chucked into the desert with a soul. So, I figured I would hurry up and write the next chapter while I still had time.
Blackheart: I cannot believe I ended up being a muse. My father is so going to pay for this.
Me: grins Yeah. Working for a bunch of fangirls is fun, ain't it?
Blackheart: shudders Finish this damn story as fast as you can. The sooner I can get out of here, the better.
Chapter 2
The heat was suffocating and he'd been walking for nearly four hours, not that he had a way to keep track of it. His pale skin was drenched in sweat. He stripped away the coat he wore and cast it aside. Walking on the pavement was easier than trying to go through the sand, but he was getting very tired very fast. Just when he thought he would pass out from the scorching heat, he reached the city. Something blotted out the relentless sun. Thunder rumbled in the distance and a cool, refreshing wind blew through his black spiky hair. The scent of damp earth was carried on it, the smell of summer rain. People began to scurry around and try to get inside before it could start pouring on them. Blackheart looked up and a fat raindrop plunked right on his nose. It was a strange sensation because it obviously didn't rain anything but brimstone in Hell. It actually made him jump a little because of the sheer force. Another drop pelted him on the forehead. Soon, they were falling in a crystalline curtain all around, hammering the world relentlessly. They spattered against the sidewalk and thumped against the glass of the various stores and shops. Despite the force, the water was cool and felt good on his face. Childish as it was, he tilted his head up and held his mouth open. The drops came willingly and the uncomfortable dryness vanished. They also washed away the dried blood and sand, stinging a little when they hit the cuts and bruises that were exposed.
He turned his head and noticed a woman of about twenty. She had a white dress splashed with huge red flowers on and red shoes. She was spinning in circles, laughing. Bouncing around her feet was a little wheat-colored dog with long hair and big, dark eyes. She was barking noisily at her master.
"I don't care if we look silly! Do you remember the last time it rained?" she asked the dog. The dog just "whuff"-ed and crankily sought shelter under a bench. Blackheart couldn't help but get his signature smirk. The dog was probably smarter than her master. Not caring how wet she got, the woman shook her head and her gold hair was now hanging in corkscrew curls around her shoulders. The wetter it got, the darker it turned until it was almost copper. She had dark eyes and rosy cheeks.
These were the kind that were the most fun to torture in Hell. He remembered how much fun it had been to break their optimism, to crush that smile. But up here, he could do nothing.
Strangely enough, he had no urge to do anything to her. For a split second, her gaze caught his and her smile froze, though it did not disappear.
The little dog ran out from under the bench. Getting between her and Blackheart, she growled as ferociously as a small dog could. The woman scooped her up. Deciding that he obviously didn't fit into her childish antics, she retreated down the sidewalk, walking a little faster than normal. The dog was still growling as they went around the corner out of sight.
He debated on following her. Then, he realized what he was thinking and asked himself why he wanted to follow her. She wasn't all that pretty. He doubted that she could or would help him.
"What happened to you? You get in a fight?"
He turned to see an older lady with glasses and dark hair. She wore an apron and looked like she worked in a restaurant. Before Blackheart could protest at all, he found himself being yanked inside. He said something very colorful when she started cleaning out a gash down the side of his face. Frowning, she held his chin with one hand.
"I know it hurts, Hun, but have some self-control!"
It wasn't until then that he remembered that infection could come if he didn't get these wounds cleaned out. With great difficulty, he clenched his jaw and tried not to yell any more curses. She was, after all, just trying to help.
Since when did I care about that? he wondered. He internally cursed the soul he had. The soul knew its limits, although it had gotten less cautious about them as it had aged in its mortal life. Despite his own irritation, gratefulness began to seep through it although Blackheart wouldn't admit it. While she was patching him up, the woman was talking ninety-miles a minute about her children and grandchildren. She took a dish towel and scrubbed at his hair. Then, out of the blue, she asked, "You don't have a place to stay, do you?"
"No."
Right about then, his stomach gave a very loud rumble. She whisked him into the front part of the restaurant and he found himself sitting at the bar.
"Stay right there. I have an idea."
While she disappeared into the kitchen, he turned around and scanned the crowd. In the booth to his right, there was a family of five: a mother, a father, two little boys, and a baby. The dad was making goofy faces at the baby and the baby was chuckling and clapping her little hands together as though it were the greatest thing in the world. The mother was coloring with the two little boys, who had a coloring book and crayons spread out all over the table. They'd just gotten here. In the next one over, there was a teenage couple that appeared to be on a date. The girl had at least ten pounds of makeup on her already flawless face and the boy had braces and looked like a nervous wreck. They ate in nervous silence, watching each other very carefully. The next booth over had a group of women who looked to be twenty-something. They were all laughing hysterically at what a skinny woman with glasses had said about her boyfriend. At one of the tables, there was a group of grizzled-looking truckers with their plates piled in the center. They voiced their reluctance to be back on the road again and waited for the waitress to come and get the money. At another table, there was a group of guys that looked about Blackheart's age when he was in human form. Something about them struck Blackheart as a little "off", but his opinion was not confirmed until one with shaggy blonde hair winked at him. He immediately turned back around, not wanting to give the guy ideas.
You touch me, I will kill you, he thought, suppressing a shudder. He'd seen "that kind" enter Hell before. Mephistopheles had never ever told him whether or not it was just because they preferred their own gender or if it was because they'd done something else wrong. The rules concerning that were very vague. Even though Blackheart had never been involved in a romantic relationship (the very idea made him laugh), he was pretty sure he preferred women.
He turned his head to look the other way. A young mother, probably not much older than thirteen or fourteen, was waddling towards one of the booths. Her belly said that she would probably deliver sometime soon. She looked very tired and sad. The girl's mother came in shortly afterward. He couldn't hear what was being said, but it sounded like they were arguing. They stopped just as a group of elderly people came in. It appeared that at least one of them was deaf and another one was getting senile because he was giving the waitress a hard time over something. When she walked away, obviously frustrated, the old man smiled. It had been an act.
He envied every single one of these people. They all had places to go and things to do. They all knew where they belonged. Though they were simply links in a very long chain, they at least were content to live that life. Some of them would make a point of changing fate, yes, but a majority of them were content to walk the path laid out before them by the Almighty Himself. Blackheart had only seen God once, and if he'd had a soul then, he was sure he would have been badly frightened. Even a demon like himself had a hard time comprehending such a being. Of course, he would have been scared only because God was angry when He appeared.
So...
What would his place be?
For the longest time, he'd been sure that he'd rule his own portion of Hell one day. He'd get the territory that came with the title. But now? What happened to demons that became mortal? He'd never even heard of such a thing happening.
He was pulled out of his trance when a plate was placed in front of him. It was then that he got a good look at the woman who'd bandaged him up: her name was Pam.
"I've fixed it up for you," she said, "you can stay upstairs until you get back on your feet, but you have to have a job by the end of the week. As much as I don't like giving ultimatums, times are hard right now with gas being as high as it is and driving up the price of everything else. I'll help you any way I can, but right now, I got to get back in the kitchen. Just go through that door over there and up the stairs."
Before he had a chance to say anything, she took off.
Two grilled pork chops, a scoop of mashed potatoes and green beans, and a fluffy bread roll later, Blackheart didn't feel quite as panicky about his destiny. Strange what a full belly would do to someone's mind... He ventured upstairs to see the place that Pam told him about. The door stuck a little bit and he had to push with his shoulder to get it open. Although the room was very clean, it had the air of something rarely used. An antique bed had been shoved into the corner and there was a small night table with it. There was a small table and chair in the other corner. Other than that, the room was pretty much empty. A frigid breeze suddenly blew through the room and drops of rain were hitting the floor from one of the windows that someone had left open. It took Blackheart pulling with both hands to get it shut. He was in reasonably good shape, but this place was so old that it was probably falling apart.
He looked down at the street below. A flash of white, red, and gold told him that the first mortal to see him was back again. The little wheat-colored dog trotted along beside her. From the looks of it, they were headed downstairs.
Blackheart crept down the stairs to keep them from creaking. Very carefully, he opened the door just enough that he could see. The blonde-haired woman came inside. Pam saw her and waved.
"Hey, pretty girl! Where have you been?"
"Work," she answered, "I just got off a little while ago. I am so tired."
She slumped into the nearest booth and ruffled Squishie's hair.
"So, what can I get you, Dawn?" Pam asked.
"I'll take some spaghetti and a glass of iced tea and Squishie will take a hamburger patty."
Blackheart assumed that "Squishie" was the dog.
"Alrighty. I'll be back with it in just a second."
Another one of the waitresses came over to see Dawn.
"Hey, Michelle! It's been too long, hasn't it?"
The other woman was Dawn's height, but much thinner. She had red hair and glasses and looked to be a few years older than Dawn.
"How's Adam and the kids?" Dawn asked.
"They're good. Rachael still talks about the time you taught her how to draw. She asks me all the time if you're going to come over. She calls you 'Mom's friend from college'."
Dawn chuckled.
"I'm off next weekend. Let's do something."
Michelle had to leave because more customers were coming in for dinner. The light was beginning to dim outside.
Blackheart was suddenly very tired. He went upstairs, wondering what his big curiosity was about that Dawn woman. Who cared about her and her dumb little dog?
When he closed the door behind him, a suitcase materialized in a puff of smoke on the bed. There was a note laying on top and he recognized his father's loopy script.
Congratulations. I didn't think you had it in you to find a place to stay so quick. I guess you're not as much of a fool as I had you pegged for. In here are all the things you will need while you're on earth. It's up to you to get more. I can't tell you anything else because it's up to you to figure out. Oh, and be nice to the Dawn girl. You're going to need all the help you can get from her. Be careful of the dog, though. She's little, but she has a big set of teeth and Dawn is a force to be reckoned with if anything happens to it.
He unzipped the suitcase to find all the standard things one would find while traveling: the bathroom items, a couple of changes of clothes, a cell phone, and a simple black wallet that had a few bills in it. There was also a driver's license, "so you can get a job," Mephisto had wrote. Blackheart moved the suitcase off of the bed and collapsed into a near-dead sleep.