Let me know if there are any errors.
Catrina felt a severe rock of the boat, and she opened her eyes. All the journey consisted of was rowing and sleeping, rowing and sleeping. What energy she had left was only enough to lift her head. The ship loomed above her and she sat bolt upright surprised, regretting it immediately since her reserves had depleted and she nearly fell head over tit into the dark waters. But a quick hand shot out to steady her, the same hand that had steadied her so many times. She blinked up at him sleepily. "Ah so we're here are we?" She shrugged him off. "About time, I'm cold and hungry."
"Well you'll just have to wrap up and sleep I'm afraid." His thumb ended up on her chin, and she wondered why he was scrutinising her face. "You're looking a bit peaky."
She huffed. "I've lost two stone...I've had no nourishment, I'm bound to be a little peaky." She batted his hand away and stumbled over to a rope ladder, she gave it one look and knew immediately she wouldn't make it. She sheepishly turned, gathering herself. "Erm, a little help?"
Catrina could sense his willingness, which was why she had to watch out. Jack positioned himself next to her, grappling for her wrist, they both looked up to where they were going. It wasn't like last time when she hadn't been expecting it, this time it wasn't a nasty falling sensation more like a fast journey through a vortex before hitting the deck. "Ow, well that was better." She announced before getting up.
She noticed Jack rush ahead to look inside the main reception area, probably checking for visitors. She meandered in a few minutes later, being away meant she had a clearer head, so coming back she could notice the stench- of death. "Jack, are we safe?"
He appeared in the doorway to the corridor, looking very calm but just a little withdrawn. "Um...Yeah I would say so." He scratched his head, the action looking very human, it irked her.
"I'm going to sleep, and I'll expect food when I wake up." She trudged by him and back to her rooms. Looking back at it she realized it was a complete dump- she had adapted to the world, now she was back in prison. Jack sighed behind her making her jump. "Knock." She said simply, withdrawing from him to lie on her bed, she hoped it didn't appear as an invitation, she was too tired to fight him off.
"They could come back, and I just need to check on a few things- management, I have no idea what they'll do when I show my face there." He really did sound low, like the weight of the world was on him. She didn't like this human side very much, she felt less protected- if that made any sense? She rolled onto her side away from him, succumbing to sleep.
Maureen was at a front desk, she had been waiting for about 5 minutes to get seen to, and to keep herself occupied she had been watching people clearing away debris in the hallways. A stout woman approached her. "Can I help you ma'am?"
"Err yes, I was wondering if I could speak to someone in charge?"
"Do you have something to report, cause as you can see we are bit busy after the fiasco-have you seen the papers?"
Maureen nodded assertively. "Yeah, that's what I want to talk about, the identity of the girl in the paper."She retrieved her own copy and spun it in the direction of the desk cop.
"That's confidential information, we don't divulge anything about the case."She said as politely as possible, but it still irritated the hell out of her.
"Well you go into great detail in the paper, apart from the names –" She could see the officer was losing interest. "Look...I know this girl, I can identify her, I think she's my daughter, Catrina Dodge." The woman stilled, she gave her a calm stare before without hesitation picking up a nearby phone. Maureen for a moment thought she had been dismissed until-
"Hello, yes – we have a woman claiming to be Catrina Dodge's mother at the front desk..." Maureen released a nervous breath, so it was true – though she was far from relieved. "Yes she's still here, okay." She placed the phone into the crook of her neck, a gesture meaning she was going to address her. "Please wait we're sending someone down." She looked about her, all she saw was blood spattered couches, it made her queasy.
"How long?" Maureen drawled.
"Well... they're here." The cop said rather awkwardly, realizing she was still clutching the now useless phone, Maureen turned and saw two very serious looking men in suits.
"Let me guess; the MIB?" She joshed as they closed in. The men didn't crack a smile and Maureen immediately sobered, right, Catrina...serious trouble.
"Ma'am do you have any proof of identity." The tallest man managed, Maureen didn't give them satisfaction of looking offended -she immediately whipped out her driver's licence. "Seems to be in order."
"Now what can you tell me?" Maureen shot at them. "Or is there too much paper work for you to assist me?"
The men in black looked at one another, before they chose their answers carefully. "It's about you helping us Miss Dodge..."
"-We're the FBI."
She sneered. "Mrs Dodge." She emphasised. "Can I see some ID?" She shot back, and they grudgingly obliged. After inspecting their pristine badges -"Is my daughter in serious trouble?" She managed cutting straight to the point.
"That's what we've been asking ourselves, you see the reason she was here was to report her own abduction, the next she was being thoroughly interrogated- according to a member of staff she was put down as a suspect for some suspicious activity going on in this state. Tell me Mrs Dodge; do you know if your daughter was part of any cults?"
Maureen blinked. "Absolutely not, she wouldn't – she not one of those type of girls that goes looking for trouble, she's laid back. That's until she was taken."
"So you can confirm she did go missing." The man looked at his colleague incredulously. "So how come it's taken you this long to report it?"
Maureen went cold, if any suspicion was put on her she could be held back from looking for her daughter. "I wasn't sure if she was in immediate peril." She tried, still having their gaze burn into her.
"You said she was a laid back girl, is it usual for her to take off for this length of time without calling you?"
Now this was tittering on the edge of a cliff of problems. She should have made a report sooner. "I've been doing my own investigation, I didn't want a lot of fuss...didn't want my daughter to feel she was in a lot of trouble." She withheld from gulping in front of them.
The tall man straightened. "I see, well your delay could have put your daughter in even more serious danger." They lectured.
"Well let's not focus on my so called bad parenting – what exactly do you think went on here?"
They cleared their throats, her expectations were automatically heightened. "There appears to be a trend, people disappearing in a certain area without a trace, the people have a history of criminal activity- your daughter doesn't fit this pattern- so we believe Catrina was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, but it's odd how she shows up in the middle of this very mysterious and tragic incident."
Maureen couldn't agree more. "So would you say this is supernatural?" Her query had stifled them, their reluctance to answer said it all.
They were uneasy about the territory they were in. "Supernatural Mrs Dodge, do you think we're into wiji boards and aliens." They tried abysmally to laugh it off. "Ma'am you have watched too much TV."
Maureen grumbled. "No they are a lot more professional on TV, they don't laugh in the face of victims of terror." Oh yes, this had straightened them out, they once again went very calm and composed- plus a little guilty, to Mrs Dodge's satisfaction.
Jack hadn't seen the gates of hell for a decade, he had never been down to call on his associates since he was quite well behaved in their eyes, and he never needed guidance.
What humans expect or perceive the gates of hell to look like is far from the truth- there are no iron gates being licked with fire, no pit of despair. No, more like a battleship grey office building, the lower levels where the souls come in is bleak with a sense of bad expectations- you feel you would be put to work there for all of eternity, in some cases you do. The really evil souls are sent to higher levels where the rooms are more metallic and modified to make your stay more irritating- such as people from your past you didn't get on with supervising you and hitting you for no reason. There's a calendar and clock on the wall that never changes, so when souls look up to see how long they've got left they are severely disappointed. Jack had the misfortunate of starting off this way, but for him the clock ticked away and when it reached zero, someone would come in a look up your sorry case to see if you should be kept on, sent to the pit- which he figured had fire, or to be promoted. This was good. If you were bad enough, and had a history you could be smuggled past the reapers and employed by the devil to return to earth and condemn others to hell. Luxury usually followed- and it did, he spent his first day out killing and buying some new clothes, then he was integrated within the demon community to be trained.
He walked past some souls using type writers that ran out of ink every minute. The room dissolved as he reached a door, and he felt the prickling heat of hell. "Mr O'Reilly." He turned.
"Number two...shouldn't you be cooking some flesh around about now?"
The disfigured 'person' laughed showing a set of crocodile teeth. "Your supervisor said you were coming...I have come for your flesh."
Jack pulled a stern face. "Perhaps another time, I have no wish to speak to him, he already saw me earlier." He tried to shrug of his uneasiness and barge past the non-entity, with no prevail.
"You lie, your supervisor came by weeks ago to warn you- now he's pissed." The thing sneered.
"Yes well things take time, did he have to send up some recruits to meddle with things."
"If you hadn't have faltered you wouldn't be in this mess." It jibed guiding him towards a dark hole, which wasn't as bad as it looked- it was a standard corridor. They stepped into it and instantly arrived elsewhere. Another derelict place where moans of despair could be heard. "Apparently something beyond our control is on your case..."
Jack blazed. "Who else apart from management would send down someone to take out a whole army of policemen just to get to my charge."
The thing huffed. "Charge...Is that what you call her?" Jack had little patience with arguing what she was to him. "You know the way." The thing vanished, leaving him to take the heat alone. An ominously glow appeared in the distance, opening up a new place. The smell of sulpha was over powering as he crossed the threshold.
"Jack."
"Barilus, the middle man...still here, no promotion then?" Jack saw the man pull his lips back from his teeth in a vile sneer.
"I am at the top of my game, I can't expect more- that's unless I want to jump into Lucifer's shoes." He crossed the room to make himself level with his guest. "You have a problem with your new responsibilities."
Jack shifted from foot to foot. "No, I never asked to be promoted – and these new powers limit me- they weaken me faster and refuelling is an inconvenience."
Barilus tutted. "You know people normally say thank you when they get given bonuses."
"Bullshit." He said without thinking of the consequences. "Tell me who is responsible for the change, and for the problems – those people after me."
Barilus looked reluctant- guilt maybe. "Unfortunately some of your fellow colleagues took it upon themselves to pay you a visit." The soul collector was staring right through him and Barilus grew sheepish. "Yes, we sent someone down to the police station, though he wasn't alone- some unidentified beings invaded the area...they did a lot of damage, and in public, our folks are never that sloppy."
Jack frowned, 'unidentified beings'. "How can management not know who started that carnage- you normally seek them out and employ them, can I be reassured they won't come back?"
The two of them had moved closer to a fire place, Barilus had poured himself some scotch. "I can't control envious colleagues hoping to steal someone else's 'charge' in order to promote themselves. Nor can I control people out of my jurist diction, those unidentifiables." The man didn't look too pleased over how little power he had over the predicament. Jack was far from happy either.
"Well since you're useless to my plight I'd better get back to Catrina." He was about to leave without permission and Barilus nearly threw the glass towards the door.
"Get back to issue in question!" He snapped. "She has caused this trouble."
"It's funny how you're threatened by a meek human, she has hardly done much damage – blame her mother!"
The demon barked. "Oh yes, Maureen the undefeatable – that's what they're calling her."
"You're kidding." Jack rolled his eyes. "I won."
"Sure you did, I mean Maureen has paid the price...you have her daughter – though you haven't really done anything, accept provide her with free board and lodgings."
"I don't believe I asked for your advice on how to take care of prisoners, I bet you would put them out of their misery and kill them on the spot, me; I milk the misery." His finger jabbed into the demons ribs, cold and calculating. "Instruct the people you can to stay more than 200 yards from the ship, or I will kill them." Now was the perfect time to leave, so the threat would be freshly hanging in the air.
"Why must we fight?..I freed you from despair-"
"-No you didn't, that was my supervisor...fat lot of good he is doing me now!" He marched out into the black hole and he was shifted to the bleak office room, he had lost his cool- he had an unusual pant in his breathing. He made to leave to be ambushed by a load of previous collectors. "What now?"
"So it's true, you did crawl back." A woman drawled.
He huffed. "You make it seem I was destitute, or on the run- I came here to clean up a little mess."
A very old fashioned looking gent had reached for his shoulder. "How's that gone by the way? Promoted and yet you are still on that same godforsaken ship...turn it in before someone else does it for you." Jack shrugged off the unwelcome hand.
"I don't see why that's any of your business, are you seeking a promotion? I thought you were on top of things."
The gent smirked. "A damn sight better than you, you are refusing to 'get-on-top' of things I hear, it's like you've taken a mistress and haven't pleased her, not like a sailor at all."
Oh that man, he had had his fair share of wenches alright, all from unstable backgrounds. "This conversation is getting rather boring, so repetitive- jealous minions poking their noses in because I'm keeping a prisoner longer than necessary. I'm still working, I want to know why everybody cares so much about this prisoner." Jack spat.
"Me too, I hear the other world is involved...what is she? The messiah? Ha!" The woman retorted, losing interest and wiggling away to a dark corner of hell. The Gent though still looked keen to engage Jack.
"Now the rabble is out of the way...perhaps you could share with me her gifts – does she have any talents we don't know about?" He raised a brow at this.
"Gifts...she isn't a prophet or witch, she's just a girl born and raised in Boston." Come to think of it, he knew a lot more about her, though nothing special – and that was just it; she didn't have to be- and yet she was causing such a stir.
"She is a little unnecessary to keep for so long, but these recent turn of events have gave her a little edge...don't you think?"
Review time.