Submitted by girl_from_the_crypt t3_10dbk6i in nosleep
Ever lost your mom or dad at the grocery store when you were a kid? That's exactly how I felt when the prematurely closing elevator doors separated me from Jacek. I was grateful that Licorice was still there at least, but that didn't do much to distract me from the fact that I was plummeting down to the deepest level of hell without my trusty tour guide. The huge spider made of human body parts beside me honestly just made it all ten times worse.
I tried to keep it together, I really did. But when the cabin came to a halt and the doors opened, revealing a group of easily a dozen people waiting to push into the elevator, I could barely contain my frustration. Claustrophobia gnawing at me, I hastily shoved my way past the small crowd, closely followed by Licorice. I had to actually fight to get out—with everyone rushing into the opposite direction of me, the simple act of exiting the cabin turned into a physical struggle. At last, I staggered out onto the street, heart pounding.
Okay. Stay where you are. Jacek's gonna find you.
I tried to calm my nerves. Licorice soothingly licked the side of my face, and I gratefully dragged a weary hand over his scraggly fur. Everything would be alright. I'd just have to stay where I was and wait for Jacek to make his way over to me. Planting my feet firmly on the ground beside the elevator, I nervously stared at the shaft. I tried not to pay too much attention to my surroundings. The painful reality of my current situation had begun to sink in: These weren't my woods. I wasn't walking among the tall, frost-painted trees, there was no snow to pleasantly crunch beneath my shoes, no winter sun smiling down at me. This was the very lowest sphere of hell, a densely populated city where everything was blazing flames and billowing smoke that swallowed the light.
And worst of all, I had no idea what to expect of this place and its inhabitants. The Leshy was scary, yes; I never knew what to make of him, either, but this was different. At home, the creatures were familiar. They terrified me, sure; they were all deadly in their own way, but I knew them. I had grown up with stories of them, with cautionary tales as well as humorous anecdotes. I was aware of how dangerous they were when at their worst, but also of how benign when at their best. Thus, I had seen the best and the worst of the Leshy, but neither of anybody in this godforsaken hole.
I felt alienated, completely helpless in the face of this foreign environment. Everything here was utterly unnatural. Nobody here was assuming a different form to hide their monstrous appearance, nobody's voice was made to sound like a birdsong or the wind.
This wasn't my world.
I spun around upon hearing the ding! of the elevator, and when Jacek stepped outside, I abandoned all thoughts of boundaries and dignity and threw myself into his arms. I didn't do it out of some romantic notion or to play the damsel in distress—I acted purely on impulse. I didn't get why at first, either. But when Jacek wordlessly leaned in to hold me, I realized that this, this was familiar, comfortable even. I soaked up the feeling of safety he exuded like a sponge. Eventually, we awkwardly untangled ourselves, each having to look away for a moment and take some deep breaths.
"You're shaking," he observed after a few seconds.
"Uh-huh," was all I could manage to say.
He snorted. "That is so… I never thought you could look this uneasy somewhere. Anywhere. Honestly, when I took you down here, I thought it wouldn't be a problem for you." To my surprise, he didn't sound reproachful or condescending. Just genuinely surprised and a tad apologetic. "You're okay, right?"
"Sure," I said quickly.
"Lord, I'm sorry, gorgeous. Well, I'm here now. I'll stay close."
It was all I could do not to ask him to hold my hand while walking.
The streets in Pride were even more crowded than what I'd seen in Wrath. People kept shoving past us, getting uncomfortably close and brushing our shoulders with no regard for personal space. The fear of being trampled to death seemed concrete and imminent. Licorice helped cut our way through the bustle, but I still flinched every time I could feel a stranger's breath on my face or another arm touching mine.
"Don't worry," Jacek said to me from the side. "They only care about themselves."
"What do you do down here anyways? Are these all sinners?"
"They were at one point. See, the boss has two main objectives for the lot of us. First, we obviously work on and encourage society's downfall, as slowly and excruciatingly as possible—that's what I do on the surface. I only come here to attend meetings and go grocery shopping and stuff. Much cheaper than up top."
"Oh yeah? What are you working on exactly?" I inquired.
He lit up. "It'd take a while to explain, I'm on several different projects, but I'd love to show you sometime!" He cleared his throat. "Once we're out of here. If you wanna see."
"I'd love to," I replied in earnest. "So what's going on down here?"
"Okay, so, the folks around us actually work and live here. They were sinners at one point, but they never overdid it. The boss doesn't employ serial killers or tyrants or what have you. Those he actually detests, because they're doing to humanity what he wants to do. Encroaching on his territory, you know. Therefore, the real scum goes in the prisons. Each of the spheres has one, and these good people here spend eternity tormenting the inmates, which is something of a punishment in itself. Oh, and of course some people also run the stores and clubs and stuff like that. But the boss presides over all."
"Oh. Huh. I guess I always thought hell would be more medieval-like, not a huge modern metropolis," I remarked.
"How so? Corporate greed, working in a dead-end job until the end of time, an unfeeling boss who ruthlessly plays favorites and never gives you a word of appreciation unless you incessantly kiss his ass…"
"So you're saying you're an ass-kisser?"
"The worst. But it's easy for me. I'm not like the rest. I willingly gave myself over to him. I didn't wait until I died. He just loves that and, seeing as it doesn't happen everyday, I get the special treatment and the nicest jobs. I often run his personal errants, too. Like an old-time gentleman's servant." He chuckled. "It's great fun, really."
"It was good you left the mill, then. You seem to truly enjoy this," I muttered pensively, feeling an unwelcome, inexplicable sting in my chest.
"Totally. Alright, we made it. Look." He pointed up a building that would have put the Trump Tower to shame. It stood out among the others due to mere lavishness. Before I had more time to admire this impressive feat of architecture, Jacek had already started dragging me into the building's spacious lobby. He went right up to the desk where an annoyed looking woman with short hair greeted him with little enthusiasm. Her mouth had been stitched shut, blood encrusting the seams. She couldn't talk properly, only pressing out short, muffled sentences.
"Hey Karen. Is the boss in?"
"Sure," she mumbled. "He's in his tv room, I'll tell him you're coming."
"Thanks, you're a doll." Jacek led me up to another, smaller elevator, lighting a cigarette as he went.
"Is smoking indoors allowed here?"
"It's strongly recommended."
This elevator ride was much more harmonious, but I was still getting more and more tense the higher we got. When the elevator finally dinged its arrival, I was shaking like a leaf. "I'm going nuts," I confessed. "Not to… make things awkward, but can you hug me again? Just for a second?"
Jacek gave me a surprised look. Then, he wordlessly turned to me, removing his cigarette from between his lips to hold it far away from me as his other arm snaked around my waist. My throat had suddenly gone bone dry. I pressed myself up against him for a mere moment until he pulled back, chuckling awkwardly and moving to step out through the opening doors.
"Relax, the boss is chill. Okay, there we go."
Jacek led me and his jumpy dog down a couple corridors before finally stopping in front of a black door. He knocked and we waited for a beat until an annoyed-sounding voice told us to come in. Jacek held the door for me and we stepped inside. It was a nice, large room with a big flatscreen mounted to the wall and a cushy gray sofa facing it. While this room was a relatively tame sight, the person—or rather creature—standing in the middle of it instantly drew a scream from my throat.
It—He—was the size of a person, but at the same time that of a bull, or a football field, or maybe a whole continent, despite being able to fit into that room. He turned to us with a smile that had too many teeth and also none at all. When he opened his mouth to speak, I stared down into a black, endless hole.
I didn't know what I was seeing. My mind was howling, trying to comprehend, trying to piece these conflicting impressions together. My thoughts were racing, my heart pounding; the longer I looked at this thing, the more everything seemed to spin out of control. I fell to my knees.
Why couldn't I understand this? Were my eyes deceiving me? Was this real? Was anything real? No, nothing was real anymore, nothing was true, nothing could be believed—
"Oh, I see we've got company."
A rich, gentle baritone cut through my frantic haze, and suddenly, I wasn't looking at something incomprehensible anymore. What was standing there in front of us wasn't a cosmic nightmare anymore. It was a man, leaning casually against the back of the couch. A normal-looking, middle-aged guy with a gray-streaked beard and an open, carefree smile. He was barefoot, only dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt.
"Lovely. Jacek, I'll go out on a whim here and assume that this little firecracker is the infamous Fiona Novak?"
"She is. Fiona, this is… well, my boss," Jacek said.
I slowly got to my feet and walked over to the man, the Devil, reaching out to take his extended hand. It was warm and soft. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Call me Nick."
"Hi," I croaked. "It's, um, good to meet you, too."
"Sorry about before. I sometimes forget that my appearance is an acquired taste,” he said, squeezing my fingers with distinct pleasure. “So, as I am prone to understand, you’ve been brought here by Mr Hettmann to ask a favor of me.”
“Yes, Sir. Uh, I mean Nick.”
Suddenly, we were on the other side of the couch. We hadn’t moved an inch, not on our own accord, and yet, we found ourselves closer to the tv by several feet. The Devil plopped down, sighing contentedly. “Sit,” he commanded.
Jacek took a seat beside him and I followed suit, thankful for the shield my former boyfriend established between the Beast and myself. Despite not seeming put off by the unsettling nature of the other man in the slightest, he appeared to be acutely aware of my own discomfort.
“Nice try, Jacuś.'' Without having gotten up, the Devil was now sitting by my other side, uncomfortably close. “I’ll thank you not to play the knight in shining armor. Now, Miss Novak. You’re not really an advocate or follower of mine, are you?” His tone didn’t sound accusatory in the least. “What makes you think you can come in here and accost me?” he asked genially.
I squirmed uneasily, avoiding his gaze; not sure how to handle these conflicting messages. “I guess I just need help,” I stammered.
“We all do sometimes.” The man put an arm around me, pulling me close and rubbing my shoulder.
Jacek jumped to his feet, staring at his employer in shock. The Devil laughed, letting go of me and waving him off. “Cool your jets, miller. If I wanted her, I would have had her already. Look at how she’s shrinking away.” He leaned forward, tapping Jacek’s belly. “If I wanted her, I could make her like it. Her response would be quite different then.”
I couldn’t help but gag slightly in the back of my throat. I tried not to show it, tried to swallow it up—no use in antagonizing the being I was about to ask a huge favor of, as much as I would have liked to. Jacek lowered himself back down, chest heaving. The Devil regarded Jacek with unrestrained amusement. “Forgive me, son. But I simply had to know.”
“Know what?” I inquired, feeling a tad dense.
The Devil shrugged. “Unimportant. Alright, Fiona, state your case. What is it that you want me to do for you?”
“You command the Hidden People, don’t you? They pay you a toll, after all.”
“Do go on.”
“I have a plot of land. I need it to be veiled somehow, obscured by magical means. People have been trying and succeeding to access it.”
“Thought of putting up a fence?”
“Sure, but the Leshy doesn’t want that; he’d gut me. He’s a bit odd. Oh yeah, I have a Leshy on my land.”
Nick grinned. “You sure do. So, you want me to order the huldufólk to hide it?”
“Yes.”
An agonizing period of silence ensued. Then, the Devil shrugged. “Yeah, okay.”
“What? That easy?”
“Would you prefer I give you a series of inhumanely cruel tasks to complete in order to win my benevolence?”
“N-no,” I hastened to reply.
“Good. The woods shall be hidden from all except those you choose to inaugurate. Consider it done.” He gave me a cheerful smile. “You kids want a beer?”
“Gladly,” Jacek muttered. The second the word had left his lips, he and I were both holding a large can of Guinness each.
“Cheers.” The miller clinked his can against mine as I merely stared down at it in confusion.
“And there’s nothing I have to do in return?” I asked Nick. “‘Cause you made it seem that way before.”
“I did, didn’t I?” He smirked, clearly satisfied with himself. “No, no, don’t bother. Truth be told, I really like the Novak children. You’re my third-favorite.”
“How come? We haven’t met before, have we?”
“No. But let’s just say that I love the black miller very much, and he’s told me quite a bit about you.”
“Oh. Great,” I gritted out, giving Jacek a sidelong glare that made him hide his face behind the drink.
“I’ve already met your brothers, of course. That is to say, most of them.”
I nearly spat out a mouthful of beer.
“You needn’t look so surprised,” Nick remarked.
“You’ve met Marian? Is he here?” I almost cried out.
“No… The guy upstairs never lets me have any of the children. Well, most of the time, at least. He took Marian, and honestly, I’m happy he did! Little pest that he was. I came to see him when he was waiting in purgatory, and he kicked me in the shin and told me to go fuck myself, can you believe it?” He laughed quietly. “I remember it like it was yesterday. But that was before I learned more about you all. As for the one you call Casimir, I’m sure you’ll know where he’ll end up once his mortal body fails him.”
I drew in a slow breath. “I suppose I can imagine.”
“He’s a good boy. I’ll welcome him with open arms. The hunger that man displays, that unfeeling, lustful, entirely self-serving nature… Seems awfully devoted to you, though.” The Devil shrugged. “I watch him occasionally. I just love his coping mechanisms, you know. I appreciate that kind of behavior.”
“I guess you would. Cas is a pretty winning guy.”
“Definitely. And then there’s Jeremy.”
I flinched so hard some beer spilled from my can.
Nick smiled very, very sweetly. “You haven’t seen that one in a bit, have you? Do you know what became of him?”
“I never found out,” I confessed.
The Devil leaned in closer. “Want me to show you?”
“Fiona, no,” Jacek chimed in. Turning to Nick, he added, “We should go now. Thanks for your time, boss. I’ll see you on Sunday.”
“Wait! I wanna see.” It was against my own better judgment that I contradicted Jacek, but the truth of the matter was that I hadn’t seen or heard from Jem ever since he had cut contact with me and the rest of my family over a decade ago. I had tried to look him up a bunch of times but never found anything. Perhaps he’d chosen to change his name.
Jacek swallowed audibly. “It would really be better if you didn’t.”
I was kind of surprised he would know anything about my younger brother, but before I could address his concerns, Nick had produced a remote and switched on the big tv across from us. I instantly pressed my hands over my ears as incoherent screaming and agonized wails rang out. The can of beer fell to the floor, its contents flowing freely over the carpet. More disturbing yet however was the image presented to me on screen.
It was a man, not much younger than me, resembling distinctly the memories I had of Jem in our youth. He was handsome, not quite as much as Casimir but definitely appealing; or rather, he must have been at some point. As it was, though, he looked almost like a living corpse. He was wholly nude, drenched in blood that streamed out of several gashes all over his body. Under different circumstances, he’d have probably already bled to death, but he was still standing, bleeding, bleeding, bleeding…
He was in a dimly lit holding cell; in the corner a pile of what I reluctantly identified as feces, and he kept throwing himself against the bars again and again, howling like a madman. It was horrifying beyond measure. I couldn’t say a thing, merely covering my eyes helplessly until Nick turned off the tv and the noises ceased.
“Well, I reckon that was a bit distressing to see. But trust me, he’s getting what he deserves. I don’t take kindly to people who seek to topple humanity themselves. That’s my show to run.” He let go of a soft sigh. “Jeremy Novak, serial killer. Never got caught to face a human jury, and after number forty-two, I just had to intercede. So I sent someone to prematurely collect his soul for me.” He gave me a swift pet on the knee. “And I bet you can guess who.”
NoSleepAutoBot t1_j4kl3e5 wrote
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