Arianna Rose: The Gates of Hell (Part 5) (25 page)

Though the statue had been nonthreatening, she knew she couldn’t drop her guard.  She continued to survey the area as she moved deeper inside.  To her immediate left was a hallway. 
Shadows crawled menacingly up the sides of high walls, and piped masonry carved in a pale, decorative pattern intersected at the apex of pointed arch ceilings painted cobalt.  While faded, the blue still retained some of its vibrancy as it spanned the length of the sharply arced ceiling.  Dusty debris coated the floor.  Walls crumbled and fallen floorboards littered the path beside the hallway, the one that led to a wide staircase. 

Reaching out with her senses, she detected Darius’ energy
rambling up the steps. 

Taking several steps toward the staircase, she stopped short of the first tread, a flutter of crimson fabric swirled in her periphery
in the distance.  Arianna turned in time to see a woman with skin as pale as snow and a draping red robe running toward her, lengths of flaxen hair trailing behind her as she rushed to find the source of the sound when the door imploded.  Her eyes shined like sapphires, a murderous glint in their depths.  They widened for fraction of a second as soon as she saw Arianna’s body aglow in an azure halo.  But immediately they narrowed, and an evil smirk curved her pale-pink lips.  From her hand, a flaming whip materialized, its slender span coiling and hissing like a snake. 

“Sola,” the pale woman whispered just before she snapped her arm forward, lashing her whip with a crack.  The blazing tendril wrapped around Arianna’s arm, its orange flame weak and paltry. 

Arianna looked down at the strand on her arm then to the woman who’d launched the pathetic attempt.  She smiled then twisted her wrist around the whip and yanked hard, towing the woman. 

A flurry of blood-red and stark white flew past her as she flung the whip toward the far wall.  Stone yielded and rained small pebbles as soon as the woman’s body met with
it.  Her head lurched violently, her neck snapping, and Arianna felt the feeble pulse of energy coming from her drain completely. 

Feeling the throb of another being looming ahead, Arianna launched a potent stream of fire at the woman’s fallen, lifeless form.  Her flesh and bones were incinerated, a pile of ashen powder left behind. 

Her attention shifted from the remains of the woman to the sound of a voice.

“The Sola is here, my lord!  She has come!” the voice called.

The source of the voice, a male with every edge of him smoothed by jiggling blubber, emerged from the shadows.  Twinkling periwinkle eyes glistened brightly in the dim light.  His bulbous nose and plump cheeks rounded.  For a split-second, he resembled Santa Claus.  A deceit he obviously utilized often, before a victim realized his eyes shined not with mirth, but with bloodlust. 

“My lord, come quick!  She’s
here!” he bellowed, and his belly wobbled like a bowl of gelatin.

“Shut your mouth,” she commanded; her voice rich and full. 

The man froze, a question scrawled in his features.

“No need to waste your breath.  He already knows I’m here.  He can feel me,” she informed him.  “And he’s not coming.  He’s waiting for me to come to him.”

“I guess it’s just the two of us then,” the man said, his oversized, cherry-red lips twisting into a snarl. 

Melon-sized globes of fire flared to life like enormous bloodshot eyes in each of his palms.  He flexed his fingers, manipulating them before he angled his
arm back and hurled them at her.  Rocketing toward her like twin comets, the situation narrowed to the tip of a finely honed blade.  Tongues of fire lapped the ether, the spheres closing the gap between her and the man.  The drone and sizzle of the blazing masses preceded the angry heat radiating from them just as they were inches from her body.  Diving and twisting with the agility and coordination of a dancer, she sidestepped both. 

Seeing her avert his attack, t
he man’s smirk capsized, a flicker of shock flashing there.  But he regrouped quickly, another clot of energy appearing between his fingers.  Sized and shaped like a basketball, the orb was launched without delay, a menacing cackle springing from his throat. 

His laughter ended abruptly and bushy eyebrows
rose in consternation, however, when Arianna caught the flaming sphere between both hands as easily as she would have caught a beach ball.

The man’s body jerked and staggered back several steps, shock obvious in his features. 

Without pause, she fired it back at him like a cannon, sending it careening, climbing the steep incline with ease until it discharged against his chest.  The explosion burned a gaping hole in his midsection, the rotting wall behind him framed by jagged shreds of fat and flesh dangling around the craterous wound.  He tottered, stunned, for a moment, his mouth and eyes wide, and then tumbled down the steps, knocking against each with a loud thump and taking out the decrepit banister along the way. 

Stepping over the broken man who landed near her feet, as well as pieces of the broken banister, Arianna scaled the staircase.  A wide hallway
, lined with decorative wainscoting to the middle of the wall and peeling paint that reached crown molding at the ceiling, continued for what seemed like eternity.  Numerous doors interrupted the long passage.  Behind any, a demon in any form could wait.  She moved cautiously, vigilant of the slightest movement, the minutest shifting of air. 

Her eyes swept from left to r
ight.  Her senses were taxed from extending them as never before.  And her pulse thundered the fevered rhythm of a war drum so loudly she wondered why the entire chateau didn’t resound with its echo.  But all fell still when a coarse huffing that sounded more animal than human scraped through the void.  Certain that a foul presence accompanied the noise, Arianna did a quick search of the space before her and locked on a figure at the end of the hallway. 

A heaping mass of muscle and tendons
with an amber mane that surrounded ruby eyes, an upturned snout and a massive jaw waited. His body was that of a bodybuilder’s, human in formation, but far from average.  He scuffed his foot against the grimy flooring as if readying to charge.

“Kill,” he
vocalized; his voice rough and crude. 

He snapped his
neck from one side to the other.  Crackles and pops ricocheted off the walls and ceiling as muscles and joints were primed for attack. 

Taking a deep breath, Arianna did not allow her eyes to leave him.  She focused on him and the quiet strength of her energy permeating every cell in her body. 

His foot scraped again, and his body trembled with unharnessed rage.  A guttural howl ripped from his throat, a demonic battle cry that caused every hair on her body to rise. 

Not intimidated, Arianna
readied her stance, bending her knees slightly and squaring her shoulders. 

Suddenly, the thunderous clamor of the beast’s feet as they tore off toward her rolled
through the cavernous heart of the mansion; the sound as pulse-pounding as the hurrying of the horsemen of the apocalypse. 

He rushed toward her, his speed extraordinary and his gait nimble, both conflicting his size and heft. 
He was a blur of frenzied bloodlust, a freight train of impending violence headed right at her.  But Arianna did not budge from where she stood.  When he was nearly upon her, so close she could smell the stink of his sweat, she raised her right hand and fanned her fingers, twirling her wrist.  Sapphire sprays of light streamed from her fingertips, swirling and twining until they coalesced into a lance-like beam.  Raw energy vibrated in her palms as she hurled the might of her power forward. 

The beast,
close by, didn’t have time to react.  She watched as her power launched from her and quickly closed the distance between them, crashing into the ruby-eyed monster and exploding. 

B
its of burning, pastel-blue shrapnel spit from the impact, along with clumps of fur, before flesh sprayed in every direction, gore sticking to the walls, ceiling and floor.  The beast’s body exploded, shattering into chunks of barely recognizable fragments. 

Walking over the unavoidable carnage, Arianna felt the soles of her boots stick.  Ignoring it, she continued down the hall
to the last door, the one that lay ahead.  Darius was behind that door.

Her feet took turns hitting the floor, the sound muffled slightly by the collection of dust and dirt that had formed a thick layer over all her eye
s could see.  The entirety of her earthly existence passed before her eyes, racing in striking clarity, every moment revealed, every person, every place.  The culmination of it all teetered at the edge of a great precipice.  All that she’d been, all that she was, and would ever be, was hinged on the moments forthcoming. 

Standing in front of a solid, wooden door with elaborate carvings caked in filth, Arianna inhaled deeply, filling her l
ungs for perhaps the last time.  As her hand hovered over the knob, a familiar voice called to her.

“What took you so long?  I’ve been waiting forever,” Darius said. 

A sick pit formed in her stomach.  She twisted the doorknob and pushed it inward. 

An expansive room with oversized stained-glass windows and a wash of rich colors that resembled a sunrise adorning the pointed arch ceiling spread out before her.  Darius, seated on a torn, velvet antique fainting chair, had both arms outstretched as if he were leisurely relaxing while welcoming an old friend.  But Arianna and Desmond were
far from old friends.  They were mortal enemies.

“So nice of you to join me,” he said and clapped his hands loudly.

She opened her mouth to retort, but nearly choked when she tasted sulfur on her tongue.  The stench surrounded her, nearly suffocated her.  It was the odor of the underworld, of Gehenna.  And it clung to the walls and floor, to the dilapidated furniture, to Darius. 

“What’s the matter, Arianna?  Don’t you have anything to say to me?”

“Go to hell,” she ground out the words finally.  

Darius stretched his arms over his head, his movements languid.  “Been there, done that,” he yawned.  “It’s so hot there.  That’s why I’m here.  I need a change of scenery.”  He narrowed his malachite eyes, a dangerous gleam of madness burning in their depths.  “Of course, first, I need to clean house, get rid of some of the pesky humans and make room for my people.  But not too much.  Those in Gehenna love to hunt, children, the elderly, anyone weak.  They’ll have quite the time toying with them, violating them, and then killing them slowly.”  Cruel laughter dripped from his lips like venom. 

Images of broken bodies, misused and mistreated then piled like refuse caused needle-like pangs to stab at her brain, Darius’ will scratching at hers.  He was trying to force his thoughts on her, his vision of the future world. 

“I can’t believe I was ever able to look at your smug, disgusting face and not see you for what you are,” she hissed
as her resolve battled back. 

“Ooh. Feisty words,” he taunted
condescendingly.  “And bravo.  Your will is much stronger than I remember, much less impressionable,” he purred as he tried to denigrate her.  “But as for seeing me or not seeing me,” he waved a hand absently, “you never wanted to see me.  You wanted to believe I was good and chivalrous and there to rescue you from danger, heartache and blah, blah, blah.”  He rolled his eyes dramatically.  “I made you think Desmond wasn’t a giant Boy Scout, but a cheating snake then swooped in and showed you what you wanted to see.  And you wanted to see me.  You wanted me.”  He smiled.  It was a smug, haughty expression that made Arianna’s skin crawl. 

“No, I never wanted you.  You repulsed me the moment I saw you.
You fooled me for a short time, but—”

“Enough,” he interrupted, his tone infused with
equal parts boredom and superiority.  “It doesn’t matter one bit how you felt or what you wanted or didn’t want.  I no longer have use for you,” he said simply and with a shrug. 

“So why did you send Dane to kill Desmond?”

“Oh that boy has it so bad for you he was champing at the bit to off the golden goody two shoes.  I was trying to help him.”

“Or you’re a coward and know that if you faced Desmond and me together, you’d lose.  That’s why you’ve been hiding, isn’t it?  Because you’re weak,” she said and used the same offhand tone he’d used.  “Help Dane!  Ha!  That’s a good one,” she chuckled.

His arrogant face, so cocky and sure, morphed into a mask of fury in an instant.  “I said enough!” he growled and shot to his feet. 

“Oh no.  Have I upset you?” she asked
and echoed his patronizing voice.  “You seem really pissed.”  She scrunched her features in mock sympathy.  “I guess I would be too if I were you.”  She bobbed one shoulder.  “Knowing that if you die by my hand, you don’t return to Gehenna a hero, or anything at all for that matter, must sting.” 

Darius ground his molars so hard she heard the
grating of enamel.  His gazed bored into her, froathing with unconcealed hate.  Tree limbs that stretched beyond the cracked stained-glass windows cast long, jagged shadows across his face, gashing his features with pointed bands of black that made him look every bit as evil as he was.

“Ah, you didn’t know, did
you?”  She
tsk
ed at him.  “Hmm, who knew you’d be so uninformed?” She continued to talk down to him.  “Good thing I’m here to tell you all you need to know.”