Inferno: Archangel Trilogy, #3

By Joseph R. Meister

Lilith has been kidnapped by the forces of evil and dragged to the underworld, where the Elohim have a horrible destiny in store for her. Although the circle has been broken, and the elements are incomplete, her companions decide to rescue her, to fight through the nine circles of hell, risking not only life and limb, but their souls.

The archangel Uriel is there to help, but he’s torn between divine and human love. Yago is with them as well, but his heart is stuck in the past. Saray is distant, more mysterious with each passing day. Ana's powers are growing, branching and peering into darkness. And Victor, whose humility prevents him from understanding he possesses the most powerful magic of all. They also travel with the enigmatic Zebulon, who continues his millenary chess game against the Elohim. He will reveal, as they descend the depths of hell, the secrets that will turn everything upside down, in this final chapter of the Archangel Saga, that will leave you breathless.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Editorial Karibdis
• Release date: Nov 25, 2020
• ISBN: 9781071576502

Book preview

1

I regained consciousness in the thickest, most terrifying darkness. A headache with no comparison was ratcheting into my temples to the core of my brain. I made an attempt to gasp but got an attack of the dry heaves. I breathed in deeply, and measuredly, until my eyesight returned.

I was laying on a floor roughly hewn from stone. A torch, made from a piece of rusty pipe embedded in the wall, weakly illuminated what seemed to be a cell. A thick wooden door with a tiny barred window blocked my way out, and left me locked in a reduced and oppressive space, like a rabbit hole that led to the depths of the earth.

Next to me, overturned on the ground, was the basket that went along with my Little Red Riding Hood costume. Despite the painful pulses that whipped the temples of my forehead, I remembered it all when I saw it: the costume party, Yago's smile, Uriel's kiss, the trail of blood towards the upper floors of the institute which led me to Suzie, her transformation into a vampire, the persecution through the abandoned fourth floor, the fatal encounter with Apocalypse... and the vortex, the portal the led to the abyss.

So, was I in hell?

Inside the little basket, covered by a white and red checkered cloth, were some rolls Elisa had baked, a jar of honey and a bottle of wine, some snacks for grandma, just like the story. Now that the wolf had found me and locked me up, they were my only source of sustenance. I thought of Elisa and Gabriel, my adoptive parents, and wondered if they had already found out about my disappearance.

I held back the tears, there was no time for lamentations. Crying wouldn't do me any good in this situation. Determined, I scrambled to my feet, despite the dizziness that threatened to topple me. The pounding in my head was unbearable. The pain came and went in waves, like a constant, unstoppable tide.

With hesitant steps I approached the door, whose splintered wood was parched and aged. I struggled to open it, but the lock held. I dared to peak through the black iron lattice of the window and I saw a corridor cut into the rock. There were torches, and doors similar to the one that prevented me from escaping my narrow prison. I was certain they were cells similar to mine.

No one was in sight. Nothing was heard.

Help, I called in a weak, dry voice. Anyone there?

No answer, but I thought I heard a groan coming from inside one of the adjoining cells.

Without the strength to scream, with a dry mouth and a sandpaper tongue, an insatiable thirst tortured me. I turned and scanned the tiny space around me, but found it empty, cold, and sterile.

The wine, I thought.

I knelt on the floor next to the basket, removed the cloth and saw the bottle. I had to use all my strength to pry the cork up and take a few hasty gulps. The wine was thick and strong, fresh and woody, fruity, but I held back. I didn't want it to go to my head, blur my senses. It was even harder to recork the bottle, which I left next to the rolls and jar of honey.

I wasn’t hungry, I didn’t know how many hours had passed since my abduction, but it was better to save the food for later, when I could no longer resist the temptation of its call.

It seems our lovely maid has awakened, said a pernicious voice, laden with poison.

I turned quickly, startled, and I saw Suzie... that is, Dementia, on the other side of the door, peering at me through the small barred window. Her smile, cruel and sibylline, seemed rigid, distorted.

I didn't want her to see me in that state, weak and defeated, so flipped on my red hood, hoping the darkness would veil my face from her scrutiny. I scrambled to my feet and went to the door that separated us.

Where I am? I asked wearily. Where have you taken me?

You're in hell, darling. Her venomous smile widened. A place you won’t be able to escape even if you try.

Why? Why did you do this to me?

Orders, I already told you, she replied dryly. I don't always like to obey, but this time I did it with great pleasure. At first my intention was to kill you, since you were the weakest, and break your circle into a thousand pieces. But then you killed Torment. You are more dangerous than I originally thought.

You called me wolf in sheep's clothing.

Dementia cracked one of her crazed laughs, which exacerbated the horrible pain in my temples.

I was wrong. She licked her lips lustfully, savoring my defeat and captivity. But now I’m glad you’re alive and can feel the horror and pain that await you.

Are you going to kill me? I asked, terrified.

That depends on you and your decision, she said with satisfaction. In any case, you’re doomed.

No, I said. It’s you who will be condemned for your evil deeds, although you won’t have to wait till the afterlife to receive your punishment. Hate is already eating you up inside, like a fatal disease.

I wear my sins with pride. She smiled and narrowed her eyes, which glowed with unfathomable madness. I fooled you all, appealing to your good feelings, I dragged you to this nightmare place. I have accomplished my mission. Now a reward awaits me, a glorification.

What do you mean?

The master is very pleased with your capture and has authorized the Coven to perform a ritual. With the blood of my dead sisters, which we keep in vials, they will transmit their strength and abilities to me, she declared with a laugh. I will be three times more powerful!

You lied to me. You said my father lived, but he died in a fire, when I was little.

Is that what you believe? She raised an eyebrow quizzically. You are still a naive and ignorant girl, but you will soon discover the truth, a truth that will make you wish you were dead.

I was speechless, on the verge of fainting.

My friends will get me out of here, I finally told her.

Stop dreaming, she snapped, grinning hideously. Which of them would be willing to descend into hell never to return? Uriel, a reborn archangel who would rather be human than take on his role in heaven's war? Yago, a skilled swordsman who is unable to love after the death of his former girlfriend? Victor, who could be the most powerful of all if it weren’t for his aversion to violence and blood, his erroneous concepts of good and evil?

Maybe all of them, led by Zebulun, I speculated.

A slight flash of panic crossed her face, quickly fading.

Zebulun is a selfish and manipulative being, she retorted angrily. He won’t risk his life for you or anyone else. And here reside demonic beings that can reduce him to a shadow of what he is, take away his immortality, and torture him until he begs a merciful death.

Have you stopped to consider why he helps us? I asked her, trying to sow doubt and fear in his troubled mind. Why would someone like him work in a public library, leading such a routine, gray, and bland life?

I suppose, to keep an eye on you, the same way I sneaked into the high school... She hesitated. Where are you going with this?

This is a war and he’ll do everything in his power to win, I said, growing uncertain. We are his allies and he wouldn’t leave us behind. Even if I fall, he will make you pay dearly. I assure.

I have to go, she said with a cynical smile, but let me give you a warning: don't try to escape. Beyond these walls are horrifying, bloodthirsty creatures that will not hesitate an instant before pouncing on you and ripping you apart. Be patient. In this way, the surprise that awaits you will be even greater.

She blew me a kiss, stepped away from the window, and walked down the sinister corridor, giving off a murky aura of malignancy that made the flames of the torches tremble.

Wait! I yelled.

Her hysterical laughter echoed off the rock walls until they died away.

I was alone again, with a splitting headache that wouldn’t subside. I didn’t know if it was night or day. It was very silent.

Better this way. I didn't even want to think about the beings Suzie had talked about, the repulsive denizens of the underworld and the unrepentant sinners whose doom would extend into eternity.

Is that what fate had in store for me? Eternal condemnation?

I couldn’t believe I deserved this. Although perhaps it was my fault Uriel had refused to join the heavenly host and God himself was punishing me for holding him back. But it would have to be a cruel and merciless God to inflict such harsh punishment for such a petty sin as a kiss, a kiss I had longed for and desired, but had ultimately rejected.

I collapsed on the ground in a corner and covered myself with my cloak, which now, in the gloom, seemed covered with dried blood. I noticed the torch; it burned without being consumed, thanks to some kind of demonic spell. Its flame was stirring, endowed with life. The pain gave me no respite, it harassed me incessantly.

Fire, come to me, I whispered. Relieve my pain and my loneliness.

The dancing flames trembled, flickered, and settled back on the torch's stem, like a vigorous flower of fire.

However, a strange warmth invaded me, comforted me, settled in my body and my mind, providing comfort and relief.

The pain slowly subsided. I breathed an air in which floated a distant wisp of sulfur and ash. I lowered my lids. I couldn't keep my eyes open.

This had all begun with the mirrors, with the visions of fire and the screams of those who had died there. Before, when I looked into them, I saw a scared and fragile girl. Later, I saw a young woman in her prime, a witch who had just discovered her powers, an insecure girl who had fallen in love with the wrong person... the wrong people.

What would I see in them now?

Suffering, pain and death?

I remembered a beautiful poem by Gioconda Belli entitled The Mirrors’ Pain and it went like this:

It is with nothing but fear

that a woman approaches

day after day the mirror

and intercedes with her own image.

The time has come for spells

and witches.

Time for cosmetics and ablutions,

the nostalgia between the glossy photos

of none too eternal youth.

Then one wonders

how much longer will passion last,

love for bicycles

and the tales of furtive lovers.

One wonders if love has an age,

if time is as unforgiving

as mirrors.

Yes, the time for spells and witches had come. I couldn't give up, I wouldn't. I thought of Victor, Ana and Saray, my colleagues, my friends. They would never give up either.

I let myself be cradled