Death is all around me. He calls to me. My soul answers... I've tasted him. I can smell when he's near. I now know his name... Soren... My mate. He consumes me. Lives within my every thought. My every waking need. My dreams. I am his... His Lux. He is mine. From day to night, he's there. In every emotion and every touch. I would’ve died for him. Now, I will kill for him.
“You know Father will kill us.”
We chuckle at Craven’s scared whine.
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t reap you,” I say, looking at Zennen and Devlin, sharing a grin.
It’s true that Lucifer’s chambers are forbidden to us.
But today, we enter anyway.
Our father’s room is decorated in a maroon tone, holding the same design and color scheme our mother picked before her death.
A sadness washes over us.
Since her death, our father prefers to mourn her in solitude.
He’s made his chambers a shrine to her.
Taking a deep breath, I concentrate on what we came for.
Walking across the room, I make it to what looks like a closet.
But my siblings and I know all too well what it really is.
We open the door slowly.
The closet is completely empty except for one large mirror.
“What’s the plan here, Devlin?” I ask. “Father wouldn’t want us using fate’s mirror.”
“It is the only way to see,” Devlin says.
Taking a deep breath, I run my fingers over the frame, the gentle touch awakening the mirror.
The mirror smiles at us when I summon it. Seeing our intentions, the face in the mirror gives me a quick nod. I have permission to ask it what I’d like.
“Show me Zayla King, mate to Soren, Horseman of Death.”
My voice is steady and calm, but I’m anything but.
The woman in the mirror smiles brightly at us before she fades.
I do a double take when we find her curled into a ball, screaming in pain.
“We have to help her!” I scream in panic.
Craven is already opening a portal to Zayla. Just as we’re about to storm through it, we hear a sigh in the mirror.
Turning around, we see her body fall in surrender as the pain goes away.
Zennen and I look from the mirror back to the portal before Zennen speaks up.
“Craven, close that really quickly.”
As soon as he starts to close it, grunting starts up in the mirror. We watch in horror as the portal closes and Zayla’s body starts convulsing like she’s on fire.
“Devlin, we have to do something!” Craven says.
This time I open a portal.
I watch in the mirror as her pain slowly diminishes again. Closing the portal just to test it, I watch the pain overcome her for a third time.
“We can’t leave a portal open, it will drain our powers. The only ones who would be able to are reapers, and they’re busy.”
Zennen lets out a frustrated breath, rubbing the back of his neck.
We all look at each other, trying to come up with a solution.
“I have an idea, but I need one of you to hold the portal open for me,” I say.
“I’ll do it, but you’ll only have an hour before I’ll pass out. Do you think that’s enough?” Zennen says.
“Yes, that should be enough time,” I say, dropping my portal as soon as Zennen opens his.
“We’ll be back as soon as possible,” I say before rushing out of the room.
“Where are we going?” Craven asks, following me down the stairs.
“To the pits.”
Craven halts momentarily before bolting to catch back up with me.
“What could we possibly need from there?”
“Damaged souls,” I say.
It’s eerie as as fuck in the pits.
Souls from all walks of life sit there waiting for us to direct them to their final resting place.
We punish some of them by leaving them here. They go crazy slowly and become desperate to move on.
My brothers help me manage the souls, but their fate is up to me to decide.
Opening the gate and walking into the room, an unnerving silence greets us.
Souls hang around the room, unmoving.
Their usually lively behavior is temporarily put on hold.
Walking further into the room, I search through the hordes of souls for the one soul I’m looking for…Geraldo Burtini.
Grabbing onto souls as I try to find the man in question, I am able to see everything each soul has done in their lives.
From living normal, happy lives and raising a family to murderers and rapists, they’re all here together, waiting for a verdict on where we’ll release their soul.
All of them want to know when they’ll move on.
I stop momentarily as I grab hold of one soul in particular.
Their name and face seem so familiar to me, but I’m not quite able to place them.
Letting the information of her life flow through me quickly, I realize that the soul in front of me is Zayla’s grandmother.
Her soul is cracked from hardships, but pure. Locking eyes with her soul, I release her.
“Your heart is pure, and so you may move on. I shall watch for your family as they grow. Enjoy Heaven. Your mate is there waiting for you.”
She smiles at me, admiration filling her eyes before her soul fades away in a soft white light.
“What are we doing here?” Craven asks.
He crosses his arms tightly over his chest, irritation written all over his face.
I’m in such a hurry that I forgot to tell him the plan.
“We need Geraldo Burtine,” I sigh.
At first his face is unsure, but he doesn’t question me.
We continue searching.
When Craven calls me over again, his voice sounds uncertain again.
Ugh, I found him but…I don’t know what you plan to do with him. We might need a different soul.”
Confused, I follow the echo of his voice until I find him.
Chained to the wall is Geraldo Burtini.
His soul shows the carvings I gave his human form in anger.
Here in the pits his soul is whole and almost life-like. But if I were to release it, Geraldo would break up into the many pieces I left him in.
“He’s perfect, just as I knew he would be,” I say in excitement before reaching up and unlocking his chain from the wall.
Yanking it up, I force Geraldo to stand.
Clasping my hands onto his shoulders, I take in his life.
Death was an easy way out for him.
“For your crimes against humans and supernaturals alike, you have been punished to rot here in Purgatory until we see fit. The souls of this room will continue to move on, but you shall never.”
Turning my body, I nod at Craven, who joins me, crossing his left arm over mine and holding Geraldo’s shoulders in a mimicked hold.
Chanting out in Latin, Craven and I begin the ritual for creating reapers.
When the last word flows from Craven’s and my lips, our eyes turn white and our bodies go rigid as we give this soul an afterlife of immortality.
However, we add a phrase that allows us to convert Geraldo back into just another damaged soul.
Without this phrase, Geraldo would remain a reaper forever.
As the ritual comes to an end, this disgusting excuse for a person stands there smirking.
“I don’t know what you’re smirking about, this is going to be anything but pleasant for you.”
Craven’s voice holds irritation before he drops his hands.
I lift the short-ass man off the ground with barely any muscle needed.
What a little fucking cockroach..
Nah, that’s too nice a term. Cockroaches are smart and can survive a nuke. This little fucking roadkill is far below a cockroach.
Keeping him in the air as his legs dangle and his face holds a fear that recalls my previous tortute, I walk further into the pit until I hit the cells.
This is the worst place for a soul to be.
The cells are spelled so the souls lose all of their free will and basically become locked in a frozen state.
However, they’re fully aware of their surroundings so they sit there sometimes for hundreds of years, unable to react or even move.
“Cell 27, I command thee to open.”
Craven and I enter the room. It’s completely empty except a wooden chair that levitates slightly off the ground.
As I put Geraldo in the chair, it drops fully to the floor, his body instantly freezing. Panic screams from his eyes as I walk around him.
“You see, Geraldo, it’s not smart to be cocky when you’re being punished. I know it must have been absolutely intoxicating to feel all of that power rushing through your veins as you became a reaper.”
When I get behind him, I bend down and whisper in his ear. My tone is clipped and holds no emotion other than anger.
“But you see, I have plans for you.”
Grabbing onto the back of his neck, which now that he’s a reaper can feel pain again, I dig my nails into his neck.
He cannot die this way, nor can he bleed, but he can feel the pain all the same.
Pulling his head back, I make him lock his eyes with Craven, who has now stepped forward.
“You will open a portal to the residence of Zayn King and his mate Skyla. I know you know who they are, boy, so don’t fucking play with me.”
In this cell, he has to follow directions. However, something like opening a portal is hard to do if you don’t know where you’re looking for.
But on further inspection of his life, we saw that he knows all too well where the Kings live.
A little too fucking well for our comfort.
The attack on Zayla was orchestrated by this man in front of me.
The facts of this were only known after his soul made it here.
After a few minutes of nothing, a portal slowly opens in the cell.
Tightening my grip on his neck, I give one final command.
“You are to leave this portal open until Craven or I tell you otherwise. You are also to lay the portal in a place where it will remain unseen.”
Craven and I watch as his portal shifts in color and scenery as he moves the portal to what looks like an attic.
Releasing his neck, I walk back in front of him.
“Enjoy your home. Cell 27 has always been my favorite.”
Taking a cheap shot before we leave, Craven punches him in the gut, his eyes showing his pain but his body frozen in its spot.
“That’s for hurting my baby sister, you little cunt. Enjoy solitude.”
Walking out, we command the cell to lock, only to be opened by Craven or me, then sealed it with blood.
We make our way back upstairs as quickly as possible, back to our father’s room and Fate’s Mirror.
Just as we open the door, we see Zennen about to pass out.
We’ve made it back just in time.