Page 28 of An Unexpected Ascension (A War Between Worlds #1)

The Angel

We stalk down the street, keeping a healthy distance from each other, until it comes to a dead end. Beyond is just desecrated land, grey cracking dirt where grass will not grow making it nearly a desert.

“Were you always a masochist or is that something you’ve recently discovered?”

I finally bring myself to ask, merely for conversational sake.

“Were you always a sadist?”

My mouth flounders open at the implied accusation.

“I’m not a sadist!”

“Could have fooled me.”

“I have never hit anyone before.”

“You’ve hit me plenty now.”

“Well, you seem to piss me off to no end.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Hermes inhales a deep breath, almost choking at the pain in his ribs.

“My father used to hit me when I was a boy. I didn’t like it of course, but I learned to live with it. Over time, my body just got used to the pain.”

“That...”

I blow out a breath. “Sucks.”

He chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling with discomfort. Watching what I did to him to cause every movement to be a struggle makes me want to apologize, badly, but to do that would be to let go of this resentment I’m desperately clinging on to.

“Yeah, it wasn’t until after my sister...”

He swallows his words as if he never meant to mention her.

“It wasn’t until later, when I was older, stronger, wiser, that I finally fought back. Ended him easily.”

“You have a sister?”

I can hear his teeth grit together, like a rock scraping cement. The sound strikes a shiver down my spine.

“I did.”

“What was she like?”

His halt is abrupt causing me to ram into his chest as he spins on his heels to face me. Rough fingers wrap around my biceps in a threatening grip.

“I will not discuss my sister with you.”

Any emotion other than rage is blinked away in those roiling navy eyes.

“You of all fucking people.”

“Why?”

I whisper.

Instead of answering, he tells me this.

“I took every ounce of pain that was intended for her. I endured it all so that she may never know what it would be like to bleed, to cry, to hate the very blood that bore you so much you dreamt of their dying breath. All for nothing...

“That pain I grew up to know so well, it never reached my soul until the day I lost her. And feeling it fester inside of me; it was so much worse than the pain on my skin and in my bones.

“No, nothing is worse than the pain in your heart. That’s when I quickly learned that I liked bleeding and breaking, so long as it dulls that ache inside my soul. So long as it quiets the horror beating in my chest.”

A tear slips from my lashes and his gaze grows even darker. “Don’t.”

“Hermes, I?—”

“I said don’t. I do not want your pity. I do not want anything from you.”

He snarls in disgust as he walks away and for a moment, I regret ever touching this man.

I regret letting him worm his way under my skin because what I feel when I watch him walk away, it causes a fissure inside my chest.

One that I didn’t allow but happens anyway.

Pinching my lips together to keep myself from letting another word slip, I follow after him.

The silence between us is deafening as our boots kick up the dust from the dead terrain.

We’re closing in on the barren forest, tree branches gnarly and twisted reach up toward the bloody skies, void of any greenery.

In the time I’ve been in Hell, I haven’t given myself the chance to mourn the loss of all that beauty.

The children I will no longer get to guide and help grow with Sister Mary and Sister Agatha.

To mourn my friendship with Jessie and Will.

To miss the crazy ramblings of Sarah May or the pureness of Anthony Hampton I may not miss cranky old John Billings and his racial slurs and unwarranted complaints, but perhaps the sweeter side of him no one was lucky enough to see.

The occasional job given by Sally.

They’re all just gone now.

And with this silence between us, I feel I have no choice but to let it all barrel forth, bombarding me with dread.

It doesn’t help that the Silva Timoris echoes with it.

A gloom settles between the roots, spread along the decrepit path.

Darkness grows with each step along the trail as the naked branches tangle together, swallowing us down the throat of this unearthly grove.

Shaded from the blazing red sun, shadows lurk behind every tree, twigs crack, and the wind whistles a haunting tune.

I grip the handles of both blades for comfort, ready to withdraw my weapon at any given moment.

“Have you ever been here before?”

I ask, watching Hermes traverse with ease.

“No.”

“Then how are you so calm right now?”

“Because, for the most part, I’m the biggest monster in Hell.”

“How do you know if you’ve never explored these lands?”

“Good question, Angel. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

I can hear the smirk in his voice as he marches on, debris spraying up from the heels of his boots.

We press on a while longer, heading straight for the belly of the forest. At the very least, there isn’t shredded skin draped from branches like streamers or screeching crows eager to make your ears bleed.

The deeper we go, the thicker the air becomes. A blanket of fog drifts inches from the ground, hiding roots and rocks forcing us to slow our pace. Whispers of dreadful promises hum with the breeze and lingers at our ears.

“Ignore the voices, they’re not real,”

Hermes warns.

“It would be easier to ignore them if I had a distraction.”

The demon smirks, but before he can stop in his tracks, I shove at his shoulder.

“Keep moving, I didn’t mean that kind of distraction. I meant conversation.”

“One of these days, I’m going to kiss you and you’re going to like it.”

“I highly doubt that,”

I grumble.

“Tell me how you and the Devil became so close.”

He snorts.

“That’s what you want to hear?”

“Yeah, I’m sure it’s quite a tale. I already know how he came to be the God of Hell, but how did you become his Second in Command? How did you become Hermes?”

He lifts a branch blocking the path and ducks under it, letting it go at just the right moment for it to whack back into place, cutting me off. Growling, I move it myself and catch up to him, muttering asshole as I find a little grin planted on that smug face.

“After I died, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind where I belonged?—”

“I’d say.”

His eyes snap to mine in warning.

“I chose Hell because I assumed it’s the very place that housed all the pricks I killed while alive. Only to find out that the Gods graciously took every single one of them.

“It started with vengeance for my sister, by ending the life that ended her, but it didn’t make anything right. So, I chose another and another.

“In death, upon meeting judgement from Lucifer himself, he saw something in me. A raw, burning hatred. It was enough for him to ask me what I wanted in my afterlife and with nothing to lose, I told him the truth. I wanted to torment those who’ve tormented me. It was then that Lucifer shared with me the horrible news of where those souls ended up and he gave me an offer; help him save his wife and eliminate the Gods and in return, he shall give me the revenge I sought.”

“What more were you looking for when you had already killed the ones who wronged you?”

“I wanted them eradicated. Wiped from existence. Lucifer then made a deal with Achaz, allowing me to be the messenger between Heaven and Hell to collect those who do not complete their penance. The Gods being too arrogant to leave their thrones to do it, they agreed, only I had conditions.

“Allow the damnation of those men and to let me see my sister whenever I pleased.”

Hermes swallows.

“Only one of my conditions was met.”

“Which one?”

“My sister, right before her death, had fought and prayed for her life. Prayed, but as the light began to seep from her eyes, she not only questioned the existence of her God, but cursed him. Pissing off a God is foul business, a sure execution.”

“So, they eradicated your sister.”

“I expected nothing less from those holier than thou beasts. After discovering Mercy no longer existed, there was very little use for the men, but I took them anyway. I damned them and fed them to Greygore in Lucifer’s dungeon – a fate far worse than my sister’s.

“All that rage I felt in that moment, all that maddening hate, I bottled it up and held onto it like a fine aged wine. It was that day, I decided I would pledge eternity to the God of Hell and end those frauds in Heaven.”

“What about your father? Did you hand him over to Greygore, too?”

A frown mars Hermes’ face, defiling that otherwise flawless beauty only a demon like him could possess.

“No. I didn’t dare ask if he made it to Heaven. My soul could only take so much.”

“So, he could be up there living out his eternity as if he didn’t deserve that same fate?”

“Now you’re getting it, Angel.”

“Where do I come in?”

He scoffs as if I don’t understand a thing at all.

Spinning on his heels, he grips me, pulling me to his chest and wraps his arms around me in an iron grip. I can feel the beat of his heart against my spine, a rapid thud as if the organ means to punch right through me.

“Let me show you, Angel.”

As he whispers in my ear, an image forms in front of us, lights flickering brightly in the darkened forest.

“Please, no! I have money, I can give you money!”

The young girl cries.

Loose tendrils of her dark hair slip free from her pinned up braids as the man buries his fist in it. She’s tugged tightly to his chest, so tightly her back is arched, forcing her cleavage up. The eyes of the man dip, trailing his gaze over her chest, his tongue lapping his bottom lip.

With his other hand, he yanks the neckline of her pink, floral chemise down exposing her to the cold night air.

Not a sound was made around the town. No neighbors peeking out their windows, not another soul walking the streets. No, when the screams of young girls echo in the dark, the townies hide for fear of being next.

The girl was merely walking home from the bar where her father had frequented, hoping to drag him home to his bed with no luck.

She almost sent her brother, but he was already sprawled across his mattress in a liquor induced sleep. With their mother gone, it was up to her to hold the family together, though some days she wondered if it was even worth it.

“It’s not your money I want, doll.”

His words were a chokehold, gripping her in absolute fear. She struggled, kicking her foot back, missing his shin. Snarling in her ear, he warns her to behave, to sit pretty if she wants to live.

So, she does.

The man’s hands roam freely, stealing pieces of her along the way.

Each tear that slipped from her pretty blue eyes, each plea from her innocent red lips, all worthless for the man liked every bit of it, hardened because of it.

With a forceful push, the girl drops to the cobblestones beneath her, and as the man rips at her petticoat until it’s in pieces strewn in the alleyway, she mutters a prayer.

For the man was not going to cave and give her any reprieve, so she hoped perhaps her God was looking out for her.

It wasn’t until the man had forced his way inside of her, broke a vital piece of her that had remained intact until this day, this moment, that all hope had vanished.

Her heart cracked and splintered.

Her body ached and cried in agony as every muscle tensed and froze.

Her mouth stopped uttering another word.

Those prayers were no use now as this vile man sullied her to ruins. So, she turned those hateful thoughts from the man between her thighs to the Gods who were supposed to be protecting her.

He rutted against her in an animalistic manner until frustration seized him, forced him to do something he had never done before.

But after a lifetime of taking whatever he wanted, boredom became a hinderance.

Her tears were like diamonds and her cries were like music, but he had seen every stone there is to see and heard every song there was to hear.

What he did not have was someone to worship him like this girl did her God.

That seemed to be something that heated his blood until it all traveled south.

Yes, she would worship him and if she did not, then he would simply watch as the life vanished from her glassy blue eyes.

Except, this girl, she would not give him what he wanted so easily.

Upon his demand that she beg for him inside her mouth, she spat at his feet.

It flared a rage inside of him that rendered his vision red, so red that he did not realize what he was even doing as his fingers wrapped around the girl’s delicate neck.

As the glitter in her eyes started to fade, that ocean of blue becoming nothing but a dirty puddle of rain, a tingle began in his lower spine.

It grew and grew until his toes were curling and his mouth was open on a gasp of pure pleasure, erupting from him like he had never felt before.

And when he finally unfurled his fingers from the girl’s neck, her body sagged to the damp stones.

Her eyes unseeing, her chest unmoving.