Sweet Blasphemy

The gown swallows my emaciated figure. It occurs to me as two gorgon ladies lace me up into an impossibly small corset that I cannot remember the last time I ate. I don’t remember seeing food at the hellish banquet I was brought to on my first day in hell. I remember—vividly—ogres with brains falling out of their broken skulls and vampires, but I remember no food.

So how long has it been since I’ve last eaten?!? I wonder, panickedly. I’ve been down here for quite some time now, and I haven’t consumed a single thing. I try not to hyperventilate and let the gorgon’s lace me up. The last time I had an anxiety attack while they were dressing me, they knocked me out, and I didn’t wake up for days. I think back to the myth of Persephone, the daughter of Demeter. She ate a pomegranate seed or something while she was in hell, and she was doomed to spend half of the year as Death’s whore. I shudder. It occurs to me that perhaps it’s a good thing that I haven’t consumed anything. Perhaps food would have only screwed me even more.

But that doesn’t explain why I’m not dead. Because I know that I’m still alive—Lavinia has confirmed it every time I see her; every time I, ironically enough, go to check if she is still living. Her body is almost transparent, and she cannot stand. There are more of her feathers strewn across the bottom of her filthy cell than attacked to the ligaments and muscles of her wings. But she is still alive, and I try to find comfort in that.

Jezebel has also been keeping tabs on my vitality. She’s been popping up all over the place to check on me and force me to read more books about vampires and stuff. However, she’d never brought me food, and she’d never seemed concerned about my lack of it. Jezebel—actually, Jezzie, as she prefers to be called—Nightshade is my ally, a good ally. Maybe even a friend. And while it’s quite possible that being a vampire, she’d forgotten about my little need for sustenance, but I doubt that. Jezebel’s very smart, and she never forgets anything. I told her once in maybe a fragment of a sentence that I’d been rejected by a boy in front of a bunch of people before—I think I was trying to ask her why the hell I would be rejected so profusely by one boy but claimed so entirely by another. No matter. The point is, Jezebel had asked me out of nowhere maybe three days after that what the boy’s name was. She didn’t forget. And if she wasn’t concerned about me not eating, I shouldn’t be either. She wouldn’t work so hard to save me just to let me starve to death.

I hope.

“Come, child.” A simpering gorgon beckons for me to exit the chamber with one gnarled finger. Obediently, I follow with her sister gorgon trailing behind me and closing the chamber’s large wooden doors.

I shiver as they lead me through the frigid corridors of Death’s castle. It seems bitterly strange for a place in Hell to be so cold. To me, everything here is bitterly strange. The wallpaper that peels from the walls is not wallpaper; it is decaying pads of skin. The chandeliers are constructed from dreadfully long fingernails and very thin, white bones. The hourglasses that measure time are filled not with sand but ashes. This place is bitterly strange. Horrifyingly bizarre. Loathsomely idiosyncratic.

I realize, as I walk past decadent, floor-length mirrors, that I feel very much like Alice in Wonderland. I lean slightly closer to the mirrors as I walk to see my reflection, but instead, all I see is that the mirrors are rimmed by pearly human teeth and distinctly canine fangs.

While Alice’s Wonderland might have been disturbing, I do not think it had that.

I am led to the massive front doors of the palace. Cringing at the thought of what could possibly be waiting for me outside, I do not notice that the two gorgons have stopped walking, and I attempt to leave the castle. I am stopped rather harshly by a demon with gigantic fangs and blood seeping from sores on his otherwise humanoid face. His body is entirely canine, but he is standing erect, and I am completely baffled as to what the hell he can possibly be. In fact, I am not positive that he even is a he, but it would probably be very rude to bend over and check.

“We will be escorting you from here,” the creature says gruffly. I wonder if he’s realized that fangs very much like his decorate Death’s mirrors. I wonder whose fangs they were.

I wonder how anyone could want to live in a place like this.

Cordially, I bow my head at him. We are promptly flanked by a great assortment of peculiar and eerie beings. They are all—or, they all appear to be—male. I watch as two wraith-like manifestations heave the massive doors open. I feel my heart splutter as I see what lies beyond them.

There are thousands upon thousands of writhing hell-creatures standing outside, gnashing their teeth, spitting up blood, and screaming like banshees. In fact, as I unwillingly leave the castle, I am almost certain that I see several feminine-looking creatures shrieking. My attention is quickly drawn away from the banshees to another horrible marvel, and then to another. The sight of so many nightmarish beasts swarming around me is… very distracting, to say the least.

Demons smile wicked smiles at me as I am led by. I swallow. Although I desperately wish that I am wrong, I’m starting to get an idea of what's about to happen.

Wedding gown. That's what this gown is. It’s a bright purple at the top, but the intensity of the purple gives way to darker tones that fade entirely to black the farther down the dress. Extravagant ruffles decorate my waist in an admittedly gaudy manner, and the massive purple satin bow does not help the dress reclaim a sense of elegance. I feel like a girl in an extremely overdone quinceañera dress—and every quinceañera dress I’ve ever seen has been overdone. I entertain the thought of a somebody throwing quinceñerain Hell instead of the fact that I'm swathed in a wedding gown because I'm about to marry Death itself.

It doesn’t work. I start to panic. I was supposed to be away from Hell long before Death had time to wed me! I was supposed to have escaped by now!

Jezebel. I need Jezebel, and I need her now.

With shaking hands, I extract the automaton bug from between my breasts while no one is looking. I whisper, "Help me" to it and let it fly. Its tiny golden wings flicker; a soft mechanical hum buzzes from its delicate body. It zips around my chest twice before emitting a cute chirp and speeding off, hopefully to wherever Jezebel is.
A mummified creature with three arms and a long, thick, spiked tail leans in close to me and sniffs my neck.

I almost vomit from the stench it gives off.

One of the guards escorting me notices its looming presence, and—without warning—thrusts a spear through its gut. The creature wails a gurgling wail and collapses. With an expressionless face, the guard pins the creature to the ground with the spear still inside of his flesh. Black blood spurts from the filthy, yellowed strips of gauze encompassing the creature. The sight is too revolting for me. I have to look away.

When I reach the edge of a line drawn in what appears to salt, I am handed off from one guard to the next. Not looking at their face, I take the offered arm of the man.

"Ser," I hear a familiar voice whisper. "Sera, it's me."

Startled, I gape up at Andy.

Andy.

I almost start crying. I grip onto his arm even tighter. As I glance around me, I see that I am surrounded by all of my fallen angels. Despite everything I've gone through—everything they've put me through—being with them comforts me. I've tried to fight it, my memories, but I can't. Maybe it means that I'm weak, to not be capable of fighting off my misplaced love for them. Maybe it means I'm a fool.

I clutch onto Andy's arm. I pray for Jezebel to arrive. I need her help. I need her to save me—because I know for sure that the fallen angels won't. But what if she doesn't get here in time? What if it takes too long for the bug to find her?

Aside from the fact that I do not want to marry Death, I fear that if Jezebel doesn't get here in time, something horrible will happen to me as part of the wedding ceremony. I fear that I will be killed.

I take one look up at Andy's grim expression and at the knife in his hand, and I know that I am right. Despite my attempts to stay calm, I start to shake. This catches Andy's attention. He looks down on me with derision and disgust on his face. I flinch. Even though he's done some pretty horrible things to me before, he's never looked so cruel to me. My eyes widen in horror when I make the connection between him holding the knife and my suspicions that I was about to be killed.

Andy is going to kill me?!?

My eyes fly around, searching for an escape. It's no use. We are literally completely surrounded by monsters and demons. The fallen angels are squished against me on all sides from trying to keep the creatures of Hell from reaching me.

"Pretty human girl!" One of them cries. "Let me taste your flesh!"

A chorus of demonic laughter and chittering erupts. A strange, clicking noise comes from a rather insect-looking demon, and I realise that it is trying to speak to me. Maybe it is speaking, but I just don't speak its language.

Andy squeezes my hand once, very quickly—so quickly that I convince myself that I imagined it. It seemed like a sympathetic gesture. Therefore, it couldn’t have been real.

But—as confusing as it is to think about—not everything Andy has done since he’s brought me here has been hurtful to me. Actually, he was one of my only aides in my desperate fight for freedom. He’d armed me.

I guess it doesn’t matter now, though. Nothing does. I wasn’t fast enough; we weren’t fast enough. Andy stops me in the center of a circle. The second I reach it, I realize that I am standing in the center of a tremendous pentacle drawn entirely in salt.

Stupidly, I think: what, are we going to be summoning Satan?

Then: you fucking idiot, Sera. You’re marrying Satan. You’re in Hell. There’s no need to summon anyone.

Out of nowhere, the demons clear out of the pentacle, standing outside of its ring. The fallen angels stay with me for a second before they all go to respective points of the pentacle—all except for Andy. He does not move; the sole point at the top of the pentacle is bare and unmanned.

“It’s the way beings are wed in Hell,” he says quietly to me. “The pentacle. It has no use for summoning Death or any of that—mortals just saw it here and assumed that it was some sort of call for Satan. Really, it’s a binding circle.”

“Binding?” I ask, my lips quivering. Andy looks away from me, fingering the dagger in his hands nervously. It is a regular dagger—of course it isn’t a Soul Weapon. That would completely end my existence, and we can’t have that. A nice, good, physical incarceration and irreparable binding to Hell will work just fine.

The demons around us start chanting. I strain my ears, trying to comprehend something they’re saying, anything, but I recognize none of it. I am not shocked that Andy has confirmed my suspicions about the nature of this endeavor. He said that this is the way creatures are wed in Hell. I know that that means my time has come. And I know that he will be the one to kill me.

He’s hurt me so badly that I do not even feel betrayed anymore. I don’t even feel surprised. My subconscious is saying: who else? I am resigned.

At least, I am resigned until I hear a very, very familiar chant in a very, very familiar voice.

“Hail Mary, full of grace: our Lord is with thee,” I hear her say. It can’t be, I think. My eyes search the crowd wildly.

“Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus,” another familiar voice says. It is Jezebel, and standing and praying with her is Lavinia.

A completely whole, not-transparent angel Lavinia. Her wings must be tucked beneath the massive, crushed red velvet cape she wears. She catches my eye and beams.

“Holy Mary, Mother of God,” Lavinia says loudly, “pray for us sinners—”

“—now, and at the hour of our death,” Jezebel says.

“Amen,” the two say together. I lock eyes with Jezebel, and she mouths: it worked. We’d hatched a plan to prolong Lavinia’s longevity. To push back further her expiration date, the date she would die from being stuck in Hell. The very air is toxic to her here; she should have died already. But she’s strong—very strong for a young angel, I’ve learned. Yet, however strong Lavinia may be, the toxins in the air are stronger, so Jezebel and I had devised a plan to help her survive a little longer. We expected that it might give her a couple extra days as a last resort.

I didn’t think that it would heal her.

And how the hell did she get free anyway???

Jezebel had paid an unnamed vampire handsomely to leave Hell and retrieve a fallen star. It’d taken what felt like years, but when he returned, the vampire confusedly assured us that it had been a couple hours. Hell time must move slower than Earth time, I figured.

Anyway, the plan was the let Lavinia hold onto the star and replenish her strength by drawing the trace of heavenly energy from its aura. A true star, straight from the skies, would have worked better, said Jezebel, but it’s impossible for a Hell creature to reach the Heavens. The vampire would have been struck down and killed. So, we’d settled for the fallen star.

How? I mouth at Jezzie.

Before Jezebel can mouth an answer, Lavinia mimes eating something.

My jaw drops.

She ate a fucking star?!???

Lavinia smirks at my flabbergasted expression before starting another prayer. “I believe in God,
the Father Almighty,
Creator of Heaven and earth,” she recites.

“I believe in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord; who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate,
was crucified, died and was buried,” Jezebel says with flair.

Although I find it extremely amusing that they’re reciting Catholic prayers in Hell, I am confused and worried for them. Any one of these demons could recognize the prayer and rat them out to Death. What the hell are they doing?!

“He descended into Hell; the third day He rose again from the dead,” Lavinia says, even louder this time, like she’s daring a demon to call her out. “He ascended into Heaven, and sitteth at the right hand of God, the Father almighty. From thence He shall come to judge the living and the dead!”

“I believe,” Jezebel starts, “in the Holy Spirit, the holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints—“

“—the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body and life everlasting,” Lavinia finishes feverishly. Before even saying ‘amen’, she moves on to the next prayer. “God, Our Father, Your power brings us to birth; Your providence guides our lives, and by Your command we return to dust.”

What the hell are these two doing?

“Lord, those who die still live in Your presence,” Jezebel says. “Their lives change, but do not end. I pray in hope for my family—” I notice that her voice catches on ‘family’ “—relatives and friends, and for all the dead known to You alone.”

“In company with Christ, Who died and now lives,” Lavinia chants, “may they rejoice in Your kingdom, where all our tears are wiped away. Unite us together again in one family, to sing Your praise forever and ever.”

While Lavinia and Jezebel start what I believe to be another prayer, Andy leans down to whisper in my ear. “He can’t manifest in a place where people are praying,” he says. My heart starts racing, but in a good way this time. “It doesn’t matter what religion—so long as they are not worshipping Him, He cannot appear.”

“But—why doesn’t anyone stop them?” I ask, and then I want to smack myself. I don’t want to give him any ideas!

“They don’t know that God and Phoenix are the same,” Andy says. I hear something strange in his voice, and I look up and see that he’s grinning. “That’s ingenious. They’re ingenious.” Before I can blink at my confusion, Andy straightens up. “FALLEN!” He yells. The four others materialize next to us again. “They’re praying,” Andy says, jerking his head at Lavinia and Jezebel. My stomach drops horrifically. This is it—this is when he ruins my one shot at escaping. This is when he kills Lavinia and Jezebel.

Ashley grins. “Fucking awesome,” he says. “We good to go, then?” He asks. Andy nods.

I’m aghast. How can they be talking about slaughtering me so jovially?

“Not quite,” Jinxx says shortly. I gape at him. Is he—trying to save my life? What? “I’m not leaving.”

Leaving?!

The boys all make noises of protests—Jake’s is the loudest.

“Sammi can’t leave!” Jinxx says defensively. “I was up front about this, guys! I never said that I’d come with you!”

“But you can’t stay!” Jake says heatedly. “He’ll kill you, you dumbass. If anyone stays to protect Sammi, it should be me. She might’ve been your girl, but I’ve been with Death longer than any of you. If he’d be lenient with anyone, it’d be me.”

“I’m not leaving Sammi,” Jinxx says shortly. “And we don’t have time to argue about it. I’m sure that Death will find a way to break through the prayers and reach her any second now. He has ways. I don’t think this sort of magic can work against Him for too long in His own realm. And we don’t even know how we’re going to—”

“—escape?”

Jezebel Nightshade had sauntered over to us while the boys were arguing and I was gaping. Lavinia is right behind her, praying her little heart out, shouting about Jesus at the top of her lungs. If I wasn’t in mortal danger right now, I’m sure that I would’ve found it funny. Jezebel cocks her hip and smirks at the looks in the guys’ eyes. “You planned to double-cross Death, but didn’t go so far as coming up with a getaway plan?” She rolls her eyes. “Amateurs.”

“We were kind of busy!” Andy defends. I don’t believe what’s going on. And I don’t think Jezebel does either.

“Well, as nice as your little change of heart is,” Jezebel says, wrinkling her nose, “your help is not needed. My little fledgling doesn’t need your assistance. She’s getting herself out of here by her own magic. Right, Ser?”

“Uhm.” I don’t have a response for that.

“See? She’s got this. We’ve got this. So why don’t y’all go kidnap another innocent little girl?” Jezebel wiggles her fingers dismissively at the fallen angels. “Or whatever it is y’all do in your free time.”

Noticing that the demons are starting to get restless—they know something is wrong—Jezebel latches onto my arm. As we practiced, I reach over and take Lavinia’s hand. I’m shaking.

“You’ll be fine,” Jezebel reassures me. “Just—”

“Step away from the vampire and the angels.”

I freeze. That’s His voice. Death. He’s broken through the prayers. I don’t know how—maybe Jinxx was right; maybe because it’s His realm, He cannot be kept at bay for too long.

I hear that He is behind me, a small distance away, but I cannot bring myself to turn around. If I do not turn around, it is not real. If I do not see His face, He is not here. If I do not acknowledge Him, He never made an appearance.

“Seraphina. Now,” He snaps. I cannot move. I literally cannot move. Beside me, I watch as Andy pulls out a different weapon from a sheath on his belt: a sword. More accurately: a Soul Sword.

“Sera, I want you to run the second I go for Him,” Andy says tightly, without looking at me. “This won’t kill Him, but it can wound Him. I’m sorry for everything. Go.”

Without another word, Andy bolts towards Death, attacking the very master he’s served dutifully since I’d arrived. Before I can fully comprehend what the hell is going on—are the fallen angels on our side??—Jezebel hoists me up by my waist and starts running with me, Lavinia at our side. We dash madly through waves upon waves of demons, who are too confused to realize that they should be attacking us. I hear shouting behind us, and when I look back over Jezebel’s shoulder, I see that Jinxx and Andy are battling Death, while CC, Jake, and Ashley are trailing after our awkward escape party.

“Bastards,” Jezebel mutters, and she quickens her pace.

“No—Jezzie, put me down,” I say.

“Seraphina, now isn’t the time to be compassionate,” Jezebel says. “Don’t you dare think that I’m letting you go back to try and save that piece of shit.”

“I’m not going to!” I protest. “Just trust me, okay?”

For a second, Jezebel does nothing but keep running. I start to exhale in defeat when she fluidly releases me, standing me up so that I don’t fall. I don’t start running, and I catch her arm to keep her stationary. Lavinia stops with us.

“Sera, if we don’t move, Death’s going to—” Lavinia pants, but I cut her off.

“We can’t outrun Him; it’s His realm,” I say to her. “We need to overpower Him.” I lock eyes with Jezebel. “Our plan won’t work now. We planned for transporting one human being and a half-alive angel, not a human, an angel, and a vampire.”

Jezebel’s eyes flashed. “No, Sera, I’m not coming—”

“You have to; if you don’t, He’ll kill you,” I say firmly. “He’s seen that you’re helping me. There’s no other choice.”

“There’s a group transport spell that a Sybil can use, but…” she says dubiously.

“I’ll do it,” I say quickly. I don’t even know what it means to be a Sybil—most of my life it’s been a curse, seeing the dead, being able to do strange things that nobody else can—but if being one can save me and my friends right now, I’ll embrace it fully.

“But you need fallen angels to perform it,” Jezebel protests. CC, Jake and Ashley catch up to us right at that moment. Jezzie bears her teeth at them, but they hold their hands up in a ‘don’t shoot’ gesture.

“We’re here to help,” CC said, his voice low. I’d never seen him more serious. I felt a wave of affection for him; even though it’s illogical, I still care for him dearly. I let the affection flow through me. I need the fallen angels if I’m to escape Hell. So since I can’t kill this affection, I’ll use it to my advantage. I’ll use it to fuel my escape.

“Perform a transport spell with me,” I say sharply. “We need to get Lavinia, Jezebel and me out of here.”

CC nods in understanding, and then he grimaces. “We need Andy and Jinxx.”

“There’s no time!” Lavinia objects.

“No, like, we physically need them,” CC says.

“The only transport spell ever written that provides for a fully alive angel to escape Hell is the Sybil’s one, and you need the energy of five fallen angels to power you,” Jake explains.

I don’t have time to doubt them. “Shit,” I say lowly, and I start to run back to where Death, Andy, and Jinxx were last brawling, but Andy comes sprinting towards us, holding something very tightly in his hand before I can even take two steps.

“Jinxx is holding Him off,” he shouts. He shakes the glass vial that he holds in his hand. Inside, there’s a withered black feather. “You guys need to use the Sybil’s spell, don’t you?” He hands the vial to me. “There’s Jinxx’s energy. He gave me one of his old feathers. That should suffice.”

“All of you, rip out your feathers, then,” I say. The fallen angels look at me in synchronized surprise. “I don’t want any of you coming with me. I’m leaving here without you. I want nothing to do with you,” I say coldly.

“Sera, we don’t have wings anymore; that’s why we’re fallen,” Andy says. It amazes me how he can be so rude in such a dire situation. You’d think he’d lay off the attitude when his life was on the line. “And we don’t have access to our wings or feathers, wherever they are. Jinxx managed to hold onto one of his—you’re going to have to bring the rest of us; there’s no alternative.”

Of course there wasn’t.

I tell myself that I’ll abandon the fallen angels the second I am back on Earth. I tell myself that, somehow, I’ll make this work. Because anything is better than staying here.

Any torture would be welcome compared to this one.

“You need to hold onto each other,” Jezebel instructs us. My stomach jolts when I grab onto Andy’s hand. He is next to me; I had no choice, but I still feel rotten for doing it. I shouldn’t touch him. He’s evil. “Now, all of the fallen, you need to put your life force in Sera’s hands.” What?! What if I mess up?!? Do they die?! I squeeze Jezebel’s hand, the person next to me on the other side. I stand, panicking, feeling like a sitting duck for several seconds before I am slapped in the face with a raw power. I gasp. Taking this as a sign of success, Jezebel continues. “Now—”

“SERA! RUN!” I hear Jinxx scream.

I feel the cold breath of Death on my back, and I start to see His wings stretch towards me. I know that I don’t have time to hear the rest of the spell. I know that if those wings touch me, I will fall under his complacent spell, the same way I did when I first woke up here, when He wrapped His wings around me and touched me.

I have no choice.

Praying to goodness itself, I scream, releasing all of the energy contained inside of me, exploding in a rain of white sparks. It barely registers that I am hurtling away from the ground, shooting into the air and towards the cavern ceiling before my eyes flutter shut and everything goes black.

Notes

Sorry for not updating and all that crap. I'd feel a little worse about it if you guys actually commented when I posted new chapters, but I don't get a lot of comments really. Unless I haven't updated in like two months, I get nothing. I'll ask questions down here, and no one will answer them, so I have like no incentive to keep writing this story.

It's a relationship, guys. And if you give me nothing, guess what you get?

Nothing.

I don't mean to come off as bitter, because there are some people who comment and I know I'm lucky to have readers (believe me, I KNOW), but it sucks that you guys don't comment. Because when people don't comment, it means either one of two things: it was so boring they have nothing to say, or it was so dry and bland that there was no emotions drawn that anyone feels the need to share.

I think you'll get how frustrated I am by the fact that that last sentence made no fucking sense and that this chapter sucks but whatever, guys.




If you don't comment, I'll stop writing. So if you CARE, then you should SAY SOMETHING. If you're too shy to comment, message me. Do SOMETHING. It's sad when you don't :(

*Title cred: "Get Out Alive" by Three Days Grace*