31
Isobel crashed and skidded across the floor. It was clear that the mortal form was never meant to withstand having its soul yanked this way and that by demons and angels. The tug of war took a toll on her body. She wrapped her arms around her chest as she coughed, spraying the blue marble floor with blood. A groan escaped as she rolled onto her back trying to take a deep breath, which was impossible through the blood and bile that she tasted in her mouth. She felt like a fish gasping on dry land.
Rising high above her impossibly tall cathedral ceilings bolstered by elaborate buttresses. The hall around seemed to run on without end and she had the briefest of moments to wonder if this was heaven before small chubby fingers had her by the hair.
Enki's face dominated her vision. An amazing fury spilled from her features and she looked like she may start breathing fire at any moment.
"Your little scheme didn't work, did it?" With every word little flecks of spittle hit Isobel's face.
"It almost did." She gave Enki a drunken smile. What else could she do? Her brother always told her that her smart ass mouth would get her in trouble, but with nothing left to lose, why not use it now.
Enki threw her back down. She coughed up some more blood as she hit the floor.
"Yes, well, none of your filthy, insignificant friends can help you now. None of them can ever hope to reach you in this place, not even your little demon fuck boy."
Isobel tried to push herself to sitting as every muscle screamed in protest.
"Don't talk about him like that," she said as she struggled. Enki grabbed her by the shirt and held her up.
"Why? What are you going to do about it?"
Isobel glared at her, eyes like green rage and dark blood running down her chin.
"I'll hold you down while he rips your throat out."
Enki laughed harshly and dropped Isobel who instantly sank, her legs could not hold her weight. Gone was any trace of the plump, pleasant angel Isobel had first met. Her silver curls were in chaos and her cat eye glasses had broken in the scuffle and forgotten. She seemed taller, gaunter, sharper.
"You know," she said in her best patronizing tone. "You brought this on yourself. I did try to warn you, help you, but you just didn't want to comply. I think deep down inside you understand this is what you deserve."
Isobel rolled her eyes. Death could not come fast enough.
"Sure, fine. Just kill me and get it over with already." Isobel said, still trying to breathe normally. Though the pain had started to lessen, she still felt like she had been hit by a truck.
"Oh," Enki fixed her with a pitying look. "No, dear. That was the plan, of course, but then you had to pull your little stunt, so I'm afraid that deal is off the table. It's plan B for you."
"Plan B?" She tried again to sit up.
"Yes, you see, you're going back to Hell, dear." Isobel really wished she would stop calling her that. "Not to the Pride Ring of course. No, you are headed to Wrath. It's not much, but there are farms there that feed all of Hell, which is impressive considering the high percentage of food Heaven takes for our own purposes." Enki stood over Isobel as she continued.
"I know a couple of imps there that are looking for a work horse, but I suppose you will have to do."
She placed a small foot on Isobel's chest and pushed her back down to the floor.
"You will tend their fields, clean their house, live with the animals. You will do all that they demand, and they will work you to the bone. They will work you until you wither up and die. And then your soul will come for its day of reckoning and I will find it. And when I do, I will take your soul and send it back to that farm in Wrath, where they will drive you into the ground, and the cycle will continue over and over again, forever. This will be your personal Hell. This will be your eternity. And there is nothing you can do, except maybe pray. But there is nothing down there that can amplify your voice loud enough for Him to hear it." Enki stood triumphantly over Isobel's body, fists clasped and menace written over her face.
"Any last thing you want to say?" She said very satisfied with herself.
Between labored breaths, Isobel mumbled. Enki grabbed her by the shirt again and pulled her closer.
"What was that, dear?" She couldn't wait to hear the remorse and hopelessness in this sinner's voice.
Isobel smiled listlessly and said, "you know, you really are a cunt."
Enki bared her teeth and threw her down. Isobel couldn't help but laugh, though instantly regretted it as her chest ached. She rolled over on her stomach and felt the cold of the marble floor on her face. She closed her eyes. She longed to just pass out. Could she just sleep on her way to wrath? She missed her bed at the hotel. She could almost feel herself sink into it.
Her eyes shot open, the sinking feeling was not just in her mind. The floor itself was melting under her. Looking up, she saw Enki had returned to her saintly self. Her hair was now immaculate and glowing, her face bright and sunny. The plump, perfect angel. She smugly grinned, held out a reverent hand, and said, "work is a blessing, child, allow it to cleanse your wretched soul."
Isobel tried to yell, 'fuck you," but before she could get it out the floor swallowed her up. She was plunged into darkness and felt the sensation of falling. Or was it floating? Lost in the pitch black, it was hard to tell.
She became aware of a pinpoint of light beneath her. The dot grew bigger and bigger until Isobel realized it was actually a portal racing up to meet her. Or was she falling toward it? Either way she reached the portal in no time at all and it deposited her with a thud into dirt.
She jumped to her feet as best as she could, coughing from the dust cloud that enveloped her. At least she wasn't spitting blood anymore. Turning in a circle she yelled at the top of her lungs to no one in particular.
"Getting really tired of being dumped in random places all over the fucking afterlife."
All around her, stretching out as far as she could see, was a flat rust red desert. The horizon was broken by black mountains rising up to the sky. Each one looked as if it spewed magma, glowing orange rivers running down their sides.
Isobel tried to take a step, but felt herself blocked as if she had run into an invisible wall. Looking down amongst the sand blowing in the wind, she found herself standing in a white, chalky pentagram with some extra fancy runes and writing. She tried again to leave the confines of the pentagram, but she could not break through the force field. The pentagram itself had been written in the parking lot of an old, abandoned gas station.
Isobel laid down on the ground, not much else she could do. She unzipped a pocket and retrieved her phone. Miraculously, it was still intact. She closed her eyes and turned on her music. She stayed like that for a long time. As the sun began to sink behind the mountains, a creaking caught her attention, she tilted her head and saw a wagon being pulled by some horrible half horse half praying mantis creature.
Two imps, a man and woman, sat atop the wagon and as it drew nearer, one jumped down. He held a sort of club and twirled it by his side as he surveyed Isobel.
"Well," he said in an apathetic southern accent. "Let's get going."
He touched the club to the boundary of the pentagram and with a shimmer, it disappeared. Isobel climbed to her feet, but did not leave the circle.
"Is this what you do?" she said. "You just travel around the desert looking for random people?"
"The nice lady with the wings usually lets us know when someone needs a pick up."
"Nice lady, huh?" So this was not the first time Enki had sent a soul into forced servitude. Isobel wondered how many there had been before her. Her eyes jumped back and forth between the two imps, but she did not move.
"Look," the one with the club said as he waved it around. "You can stay here if you want, but doubt it's going to end well for you."
Isobel looked out into the landscape. Damn it, he was right. It was a wasteland. Nothing for miles and miles. It was obvious she had no choice. With a frustrated sigh, Isobel walked to the back of the wagon and climbed in. She found that she was not the only one there. Two huge, grotesque pig-like creatures lazily snoozed half covered in straw.
The smell was horrendous and her muscles still ached, but somehow between the steady rocking of the wagon and her pure exhaustion, Isobel fell asleep.
When the wagon stopped, she woke with a jolt and found her head laying against one of the pig creatures. It was later in the evening, the far off mountains were shadowed in the gloom. The imps beckoned her and she jumped/fell out on the wagon.
They were on a ranch of some kind. A large central house dominated the area with several fences and pens surrounding. Isobel was escorted around to the back where three small shacks sat each leaning to one side or the other. She was placed in one of the shacks and the door locked behind her.
It was bare with a dirt floor and just a small cot, perhaps big enough for an imp, but definitely not for her. She sat down on it and shoved her hands into her pockets. Pulling out her phone, it illuminated the dark.
It had all gone so wrong. The night before she had unloaded on Charlie and Vaggie everything that was going on. She told them about all the letters and the meeting with Enki, the death sentence, everything. She gave Charlie her soul thinking that the bind would be too strong to be broken. How foolish and prideful she was. And now she was so far away from anyone she cared for or anyone who cared for her.
She tossed the phone aside and looked down at her hands as they rested in her lap. The black smudge on her right hand had now reached her fore finger and was starting to climb. The one on her left hand creeped toward her wrist. They reminded her of Alastor and she replayed the last conversation they shared. It had been a disaster, and yet he was still there. He had grabbed the chain and tried to pull her back.
Tears swelled in her eyes. They came so rapidly that she didn't have a chance to control the wave of emotion. She held her hands up to her face trying to feel that connection again, that tether. But it was severed and she was alone again, powerless and paralyzed.
She sobbed into the night.