Sin Path: Volume One: Banished

By J. Howard

Where do those who have no one to turn, turn?
Being thrown into a world that you hate...
How can one save a world that rejects the savior?
Sometimes it is not the angels that save us,
it is the demons.


With humanity on the brink of extinction and hope a faint memory, a being from Hell searches for the key that will unlock the salvation of the entire universe, or so he thinks.

With a cavalcade of villains all vying for control, his task may not be as simple as he thought. Along with his companions, he must learn how to cope with the human world and navigate a web of lies, deception, and sin.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Oct 31, 2016
• ISBN: 9781490777337

J. Howard

Author J. Howard is a graduate from the Pennsylvania State University with a bachelor’s degree in history and likes to incorporate a meshing of styles when writing his books. He enjoys reading long epic tales, such as JRR Tolkien’s works. His goal as a writer is to bring back the long, arduous epics of yesteryear.He had always wanted to help people. He had hoped to be able to make a difference in someone’s life. Born on November 22, 1988, J. Howard grew up in a small town near Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, called Greenock. And is the youngest of three. He currently reside in West Mifflin, Pennsylvania, with his wife, Lauren. She is among many of his friends and family who gave their undying support in his pursuit of a career in writing. He would like to take this moment to thank all the readers who have purchased his work. “I hope that you enjoyed it. I am truly thankful to each and every one of you.” Author J. Howard

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Copyright 2016 J. Howard.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

ISBN: 978-1-4907-7735-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4907-7734-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4907-7733-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016917984

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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CONTENTS

Chapter 1    Bad Luck Is A Black Cat

Chapter 2    Welcome To Hell

Chapter 3    To The Under-Rim

Chapter 4    Esca, Captain Of The Guard And Keeper Of The Keys In The Under-Rim

Chapter 5    When It’s Time, It’s Time

Chapter 6    Canines And Cocktails

Chapter 7    A Little Understanding

Chapter 8    Help Wanted

Chapter 9    Not All Angels Are From Heaven

Chapter 10    Visions Above The Pasture

Chapter 11    Sniffing Like A Dog

Chapter 12    My Guardian Demon

Chapter 13    Three To Eleven

Chapter 14    Dealing In Death

This book is

dedicated to all the women in my life:

my mother, my grandmother, my wife, and my sister.

CHAPTER 1

BAD LUCK IS A BLACK CAT

The lights were low. It was an ordinary bedtime for the young brood of the Connelly family. A mother and father paced up the worn wooded stairs. There were two sleepy, red-eyed children who fought to stay awake. Each sleepy babe wanted to sleep, but as children do, they tried their best to keep their tired eyes open. The mother carried the younger, a boy. He had an older sister. She weighed a little bit more than her tiny brother. The father held her close until finally, both parents came to the landing at the top of the steps.

They’re so tired. It looks like this afternoon at Grandma’s house wore them out, the father spoke as he opened a door on the left side of the hall. They didn’t even put up a fight, at least not compared to how things usually happen. He laughed. His wife smiled at him. She stroked his back. The pair embraced each other while each carried a child. This family loved one another dearly. They shared a deep bond. The family was strong and kind. They were the rarity these days. Not too far from this quaint, wholesome home, a family lived that was quite the opposite.

It’s about time. What took you so long? a crude man questioned his wife. She stomped into the bedroom, wearing a meager expression. Well, are they asleep? The woman gave no answer. She stared bitterly at him. Come on now. Cat got your tongue? he said jokingly. She didn’t find his rudeness in the slightest bit amusing.

Damn, you can be an asshole. The stupid brats finally quit. So go ahead, do whatever you have to do with the crops. Sometimes I wish you were just gone. I really do. Now maybe I can get a few moments’ peace. Damn kids and damn you too. She plopped herself onto the bed and turned her shoulder.

Love you too. He made a kissing sound with his lips as he strolled out of the room. The man ran down the hall and to the bottom of the steps. He came into the kitchen and reached into a high cabinet. A pail was there. The pail had been filled with various scraps and discards; there were apple cores and the crust of bread and a few other things that were too moldy to identify. He clutched the bucket in one hand, and in his other, he carried a loaded shotgun. He headed straight for the barn across from his home. None of you try anything, ya hear? He let drop the bucket of slop. In his breast pocket, a key rested. He drew it out and plunged it into an enormous lock. The chains loosened. He slid the heavy wooden door open. A dozen women cowered along the edges of the barn.

All these women were young, some too young to be put under so much abuse. Many of them were weak and thin. That single bucket of slop was used to feed all of them. Scraps that weren’t even good enough for a single pig were expected to sufficiently nourish twelve women. Each of these women came from a different place and was abducted only to be used as a crop. They were a form of currency. The violation and abuse weren’t the worst of it. The uncertainty and isolation plagued each of their minds. The women all came from different backgrounds, most spoke languages that no other could recognize. While they all shared in a similar circumstance, it was their cultural differences that kept them separate. Many of them only saw the light of day to be tortured. Otherwise, they spent the day locked and shackled. There was nothing left in them. The cruel antics of a farmer broke them. He treated them like cattle, and that is what they became.

Eat up. You girls need your strength. He watched them stumble to the bucket with a wicked smile. Some of ya have a big day coming up. And I need you to perform. ’Cause we all know what happens if you… don’t. His lips curled. He sent his arm flying. The poor, unsuspecting girl closest to him was struck in the back of the head. She fell to the barn floor, wincing in pain. So let’s not disappoint me. You girls have a great night. The barn door was locked up, and the girls were left to freeze in the night. The man returned to his cozy bed with no regard to his actions. He slept peacefully and hardly gave a thought to the innocent women in his barn. A conscience wasn’t something this man possessed. Indifference became his way of life. As long as he was making a profit, he had no concern for morals. He abandoned any of those things long ago.

It was the early hours of the morning, and by this time, the Connelly family was fast asleep. The sun hadn’t yet risen, but its brilliant rays could be seen emanating off the horizon. The birds sang. Their loud cries echoed through the small farming community. It was still too cold for the growing season to begin. In fact, the community hadn’t done very much farming for the past few years. The people still lay fast asleep, tucked snugly under the sheets and down comforters. On a normal day, the town wouldn’t wake until late into the morning.

Many individuals in this town had forgotten the ways of old and found new ways to make profit. The town abandoned agriculture. It took up new markets, sinful markets. The barns were no longer used to house cattle but used to house people. In this small town, the only thing being sold were young women. A once triumphant farming community in Missouri was now a location for illegal and immoral prostitution. This way of life had gone on too long. Innocent girls had been used as currency without punishment. The reign of sin was coming to an end.

An older man slept with his wife in their plush bed. The house they lived in looked normal enough. Pictures of their children hung on display throughout the hallways of the two-story home. To look at the home, one would never know it was a house of evil. It had all the nice little knickknacks homes have, a decor that wouldn’t fit the devilish owner. Brightly colored fabrics and cloth covered the furniture. Large windows filled the home’s wooden walls. Such a beautiful home surely couldn’t be the house of a villainous husband and wife, a husband and wife who sold women to others.

A tall man walked down the black street in front of the sinful couple’s home. His skin was a light-grayish color, the pigment of a faded stone. Not a single hair could be seen upon his head. A long scar ran from the back of his neck to the tip of his chin. The eyes of the man were a cold black. He wore a mean scowl on his face. He was thick with muscle but proportionate from head to toe. The clothes he wore weren’t normal everyday articles. Long bands of white and blue cloth draped over his shoulders. His waist was laden with a heavy black fur in which the material ended just above his knees. There were two blades that hung off his back. Each was three feet in length and in the shape of a crescent moon. The red edging on each sword seemed to shine as if it were the moon’s rays.

The dark figure took long strides down the quiet road. Not a noise was made from his footsteps. A small cloud of dust blew by him. The subtle wind began to blow fiercer. With every step, the wind became stronger and stronger. All of a sudden, every light on the street had turned off. The town seemed to shut down entirely. The wind had sucked the life from the tiny municipality. Time had stopped; not a soul was in motion. The citizens had been suspended in time in order for the mysterious man to complete his task.

The mysterious man was named Remloc. In reality, he was no man at all but a demon god. Remloc was a stern being and not very pleasant to be around. He would seldom laugh, except on the rare occasion to bestow fear upon someone. His tough exterior was no comparison to his impenetrable interior. He knew no fear, no sadness, no happiness. Remloc was a dedicated individual. His role as the earth realm’s Death, but in this case for the souls of the wicked, was what consumed his life. Without his title, he would have nothing. There was virtually no family to speak of. Friends came in short supply. His work was the blood that coursed through his demon veins.

His job was what brought him here during the early morning, for inside the house were two very wicked souls. Their lives were about to expire. Remloc would soon take their souls. They would be carried to Hell to rot with all the other evil and sinful spirits of the world. The blades that hung on his back were magical blades. If used properly, the weapons would inflict no wounds but had the ability to murder. It was the mystical swords that captured the souls. The souls of millions upon millions of people were slain with Remloc’s blades, and yet not a single drop of blood had even touched them. These two possessions were coveted by him most of all. Their beauty and power was second to none in the demon’s eyes. Each blade acted as another appendage. They became an extension of his body. He used the sabers with grace and skill. He became the master of each. Remloc had never failed in the capture of a soul. This morning’s visit would be just another notch on his belt.

The sun’s rising had been halted. Remloc had to finish his task soon; only a short time remained for him. He took his final step toward the house. He glanced over the wooden frame and proceeded. Dust was kicked into the air as he raised his foot onto each step. There were two large feet that stopped at the top of the porch steps. The house was locked up tight. Remloc could see the nearby barn. The sight of it was enough to bring him to sickness. He was aware of the egregious misdeeds that took place there. He desired to do more than just take their souls. He wished to bring his own justice upon them. The demon wanted them to suffer in his hands. He knew that he never would get such an opportunity. His job wasn’t to enact punishment, only to capture souls in order to take them to be judged as wicked or saintly. Remloc couldn’t recall the last time he took a soul that wasn’t wicked.

The presence of the barn enraged him. He hated humans, most of all, but especially the humans who were excessive sinners. He couldn’t understand the evil things that they did. He couldn’t find a reason for their behavior. Humans were lazy and crude. While Remloc hated humans, he felt sympathy for those who had to suffer at the hands of wicked souls. Remloc hated the humans for that purpose. They were given everything but wasted it all. Those people, those wicked people, succumbed so easily to the act of sin. Selfishness motivated humanity. Civilization started its fall from grace long ago. Any redeemable qualities had fizzled out many centuries earlier; yet somehow their way of life continued on. It seemed that nothing could stop the disease that plagued the earth—humans.

Remloc collected himself and turned his attention back to what he had come to do. His large hand gripped the brass door handle. His first turn was a failure. The front door was locked. Remloc looked downward. His eyes focused on the handle. A tremor worked its way down Remloc’s forearm. The doorknob began to vibrate, and with a twist, the door came open. The wooden door fell open slowly. The rising sun’s light came in through the entryway. His massive leg moved its way into the residence. It landed and set in place on the hard laminate surface. The rest of his body followed. He halted for a brief moment. The demon’s animallike eyes surveyed his environment. He never jumped before he looked. Remloc made sure there would be no surprises waiting for him inside.

His pause had ended. He ventured further into the residence. Remloc took great care as he moved through the small home. Each creak in the floor sounded like the cries of thousands of beaten and used women. The shadows seemed to move about the floor, taunting Remloc. Each shadow called to him, begging to be saved. Save us! Save us! they cried. The demon ignored the suffering and anguish. He reached the tall wooden staircase. It was narrow, and the steps ascended at different heights. His eyes moved up and down them. A strong flow of evil emanated off all the items in the house. Remloc knew that the adults in this house were wicked to the core. He disliked these kind of people most of all. They built a facade to fool the world. During the day, the outside world had no conception of the evil that dwelled within. The house came off the same way any other would. The town around them knew nothing of the true operation of the farm. A few misguided customers kept the sales up. Their devious ways supplied a town’s worth of evil in only a few souls. The secret was hidden so well that not even their own children knew of their parents’ terrible deeds. Hypocrites and liars rested only one floor above the demon.

From the bottom of the steps, he could see the children’s rooms. The thought of the children of this house growing up to be just like their parents was something that made Remloc want to complete his task even more. Remloc took one step, and the stair creaked loudly. It was a sound that only Remloc could hear. He ignored the noise and kept heading up the stairway. One step after another and he had reached the top. A long hallway seemed to stretch on into eternity. There were four doors lining the walls of the hallway. The first door Remloc came to was the little boy’s room. He was only two years of age and barely reached two feet tall. Bruises covered much of the boy’s back and arms. His father beat him for the slightest things like crying or dropping his cup. He was grabbed, smacked, and beat. The young child endured so many savage beatings at the hands of a man who had no business being a father. The idea of parenting escaped him. He didn’t know how to be a father and did the only thing he knew how to do: be cruel. The law that kids will be kids wasn’t one that he abided by.

Remloc stopped at his door and peeked inside. The young boy was fast asleep. A worn teddy bear rested underneath his little arms. The room was bare. A chest of drawers and a small woven rug were the only things in view besides the tiny cot that he knew as his bed. The poor child slept in this room night in and night out, but he never thought that he went without. For some strange reason, he loved his room and his only toy. Remloc pulled his head back out of the doorway and closed the door.

He wasted no time. The next door he passed was a grungy and dirty-looking bathroom. In the light of day, the filth and grime of the house could easily be seen. The house wasn’t well kept; many of the rooms and items in the house were neglected. Housekeeping was the last thing on the minds of the parents of this particular household. Their evil and wickedness was without limits. They were selfish and cared nothing for the well-being of their children. It was more important to make a sale than it was to keep up with housework or provide a proper meal for their children. If they would waste time being parents, then how could they afford another useless trinket or a new television?

There was only one more door in the hall before he came to his final destination. This door was on the opposite side of the hallway. Inside this door was a rather pure little girl. She was eleven and, so far, unaffected by the neglect and abuse. The girl would do the best she could to keep the house up and care for her brother. She was just a little girl, however, so there wasn’t much that she could do. Her means were slim, and she had no connection to the outside world. The little girl did so much and sacrificed so much just for her little brother. For eleven years, she witnessed terrible things. She was placed right in the middle of her brother and her father on many occasions. It was far too much for such a young girl to take on, and yet she had to. The little girl blamed herself for everything that happened to her brother. She wished she could do more. Her life wasn’t fair, her brother’s life wasn’t fair, and the lives of the women in that barn were certainly not fair either.

Remloc walked past the door on the right and down to the end of the hallway. Tufts of dust piled in the corners at the hall’s end. This was the door. Behind it was the lair of two villainous and sick individuals. The room he was about to enter housed evil of the worst kind. The two souls that lay asleep inside were surely worthy of the fires of Hell.

Remloc’s eyes moved up and down the sinister-looking door. It was black as night in his eyes. The souls of many dead women reached out for him, trapped within the fibers of the wooden door. His large palm cupped the brass handle. A wave of evil energy penetrated through him. He could feel the evil coming from inside the room and through the door. It was something he had felt time and time again, but the potency of the evil was unlike any other he had yet to feel. Remloc pulled the handle down and let the door swing open on its own. The swinging door moved slowly to reveal the sleeping bodies of two humans.

Ned Bridgeford and his wife, Kelly, lay in their luxurious bed. It was clear that all the profit they had made was put into their own selfish needs. It was wasted on pointless purchases of unnecessary things. The children went without so that they could have whatever they pleased. It was the opposite of how life should be. Ned and Kelly were monsters. Ned was the architect behind their enterprise, but his wife didn’t mind spending their ill-gotten gains on whatever selfish device her dark heart desired. They found it difficult to spend even the smallest amount on their son and daughter. They were lucky to have each other. These were two people who loved each other for their selfish ways and evil personalities. They were absolutely perfect for each other. They would have the satisfaction of not being separated during the afterlife. The two of them would suffer for an eternity together.

Remloc crept into the room. He crossed over the small rug that stuck out from both sides of the bed, and there the demon waited. His dark eyes moved up the soft, lavish comforter on the mattress. The demon looked upon them with great disdain. He thought of how satisfying his next capture would be as he sidestepped around the left corner of the bed. Remloc then took a few steps toward the father of the house. Ned lay fast asleep. He was frozen. Remloc was very confident that he soon would finish his mission. Everything was as it should be. As it stood, he would have no difficulty completing his mission. Satan would soon have two more souls to add to his collection. His death dealer wouldn’t fail him.

Remloc’s bald head glistened from the light penetrating through the window. The demon surveyed the king-size bed one last time. With his left hand, Remloc unsheathed his sword from the right side. He brought the shining silver blade up to his chin. He swiftly turned the blade vertically with the blade facing away from him. Its fine edge showed no imperfections. A glint of light emanated from the red edge as it moved. His large arms lifted the blade high above his head. With a flick of the wrist, he spun the point of his blade down. Its razor-sharp tip pointed straight at Ned’s heart. Remloc prepared to take his first soul. There was a precise method of removing the soul. Although Remloc’s blades made this job easier because they didn’t inflict wounds, it was still something only a seasoned death dealer could do. To capture a soul, all one had to do was drive the tip of the sword into the center of a person’s heart. This spot connected the person’s physical body with his or her soul. Striking it severed the connection and pulled the soul free like reeling in a fish from the deepest ocean.

Something wasn’t right in the room, however. It was something that Remloc had just now noticed. A long shadow stretched across the quilt. A rising sun, which was now completely visible, pulled his shadow. The chests of the two sleeping in the bed were moving up and down with each breath that was taken. A loud thud came from behind him. A strange black cat was sitting on the dresser with its eyes fixed on to Remloc. The cat’s claws were out. It came from nothingness. It wasn’t in the house when Remloc first set foot there. Where did this peculiar feline come from? Time had begun to move again, and it wasn’t supposed to. Something was about to go wrong, something unexpected.

Remloc had to act quickly. He must finish the task before whatever was going to happen happened. Remloc took his attention away from the mysterious black cat and back onto the sleeping couple. He repositioned his blade and went to take a strike downward in hopes of removing the man’s soul. Before the blade connected, the cat jumped across the bed and scratched Remloc along his cheek. A sensation unlike any he had felt before stunned him. He cocked his head to the side. The scratch impeded him for just a moment, but it was enough time for the man to awaken. If the cat had set out to sabotage the demon, it was very successful. Ned screamed. A terrible monster stood over him. In a panic, he dove to the other side of the bed. The loud noise and commotion woke up his sinning wife, who slumbered in the bed next to him. Down the hall, the children also awoke, having heard the terrible shrieks.

Remloc was very quick on his feet. He took a swipe and sliced the man in two. A fountain of blood erupted from both halves. In the same motion, his blade penetrated the wife. The strike cut her throat. She gasped for air for several seconds as she drowned in her own blood. She died in only moments. Remloc hurriedly tucked away his blade. The demon didn’t have time to wipe the blade clean. Drops of blood fell from his holster and down to the floor. He heard the footsteps of the two children scurrying toward the master bedroom. Without a thought or a second wasted, Remloc headed for the window. He passed the insidious cat, which looked as if it were smiling quite contently. He was sure that cats couldn’t smile, but this one seemed to wear one from ear to ear. The demon crashed through the second-story window. Shards of glass sparkled in the air. Remloc hit the ground and rolled to his feet. He took a glance backward at the broken window frame. A few fragments of glass hung in the wooden panel. Screams echoed from the bedroom. Remloc had failed. He didn’t collect the souls that his master desired. Remloc hadn’t used the proper technique. His hasty action was only enough to slay the two humans. Their mutilated corpses were all that remained in the room. A gruesome and bloody scene was left for the young children to see. Ned and Kelly Bridgeford would forever be trapped on Earth as confused spirits. Neither dead nor alive, an eternity in limbo was all that awaited the two now. The parents weren’t his primary concern, but he was worried how this would affect the two young children. To find their parents like that would surely destroy them, a regret that Remloc would never forget.

Remloc was furious with himself. He never performed like this before. In over a hundred millennia, there was never one soul that had escaped his clutches. In an instant, that was all ruined. If it wasn’t for that damned cat, he thought. Remloc wasn’t prepared for a foul up. He didn’t expect any disturbances. There wasn’t supposed to be any. Time was supposed to be stopped; everything was supposed to be stopped. This wasn’t right. Remloc had many questions, and he intended on getting every last one of them answered.

He knew he had to get away from there and fast. He couldn’t be seen. That would make the matter far more complicated. Remloc ran to the barn across from the house. He knew that time was against him, but an impulse surfaced that he couldn’t control. He ripped off the lock that sealed the doors up tightly and swung the doors open. The panels banged against the barn walls. A flash of light blinded everything that was inside. The light had faded, and Remloc was gone. He ran behind the barn and into the field of withered crops. Remloc whipped through as fast as he could. He never stopped, and he never looked back. Across twelve acres, the demon trekked. He jumped over ravines, cut through large amounts of brush, and trod across two creeks. Remloc didn’t tire. he kept moving and moving. He would never stop. His only thought was to get as far away as he could, to stay out of sight, and to get back to Hell.

Remloc ran for a very long time, much longer than he needed to. The sun had risen much higher. It was nearly directly above him. He ran so far that neither the farmhouse nor the town could be seen. It didn’t look as though anyone was following him. Remloc had made it out of the fields and into the cover of the woods; his running had paid off. No one had seen where he went; in fact, no one saw him at all. Remloc decided to walk now that he felt the danger had passed. He couldn’t be sure, but he assumed that he was safe. The hot sun and complete lack of any type of nourishment seemed to have no effect on the demon. Remloc had a short list of things that bothered him. Food, water, and temperature were purposefully absent from the list; but failure was high on that very same list.

The sun had risen directly overhead. It was late in the morning; hours had gone by since his escape from the farmhouse. This was highly unusual. Remloc had never gone hours waiting for Satan to call him back. The demon’s patience was wearing thin. An annoyed feeling filled him as he waited. He rested against a tall, twisted tree. The knots that made up its roots were the size of coconuts. His eyes were closed. A passerby may have thought him to be dead. Remloc was far from it. His body was motionless. He stood as still as a statue, lost in a confluence of thought.

CHAPTER 2

WELCOME TO HELL

Dark storm clouds moved across the sky. Leaves rustled in the canopy of the many trees. Nature was working something up. Birds cawed as they soared overhead. Even the tiny bugs stirred on the forest floor. Remloc’s arms were tightly folded. He kept his frustration on the inside. He was reserved and still on the outside, but a whirlwind of fury flared wildly within. The sun began to set. Below the gray clouds, the orange haze of dusk covered the rolling brown hills that surrounded him. The clouds fluttered over the sky. Their mass grew larger and larger with each passing moment until the clouds had blanketed the entire sky, leaving Remloc enshrouded in darkness. Remloc opened his eyes to see shadows dancing between the lines of trees. The boughs of the trees bowed as a stiff breeze maneuvered its way through the forest. Small drops of rain speckled Remloc’s head. Thousands of tiny beads of water rolled down his neck. All the while, he pondered what had happened that day. As he thought, the darkness grew. The dull gray of the evening had transformed into complete blackness. It rained heavier now. Drops of water became thicker as each drop fell from the gloomy sky.

For nearly twenty-four hours, Remloc stood in one place. He waited in the thick roots of a tree, waiting for his transport, waiting to return to Hell, waiting… It appeared that the heavy downpour would end before he would make his return to Hell. The demon slammed his fist against his leaning post. The frustrations slowly bubbled to the surface. He tapped his fingers off his right bicep. His golden eyes broke through the darkness. He inhaled deeply and let out a sigh. Waiting was tough for him. It was very unusual to stay idle for so long. Remloc was used to performing one mission after another. He never had a break, so it never gave his mind a chance to contemplate or question. He found it a gross misuse of time. What was the purpose of asking questions anyway? What did it matter? Things unfolded at the command of others. He simply carried out the orders. His mind wandered, spiraling down into a wild tangent. Remloc came back to today. Of all the thoughts in his mind, his failure was the most prevalent. He didn’t realize it when he started his quest, but from the beginning, things were off. The odd day continued on with his long layover. This was the longest he had ever spent on Earth in one session. The only good thing was that he wasn’t stuck in some heavily populated area. He was in the calm, serene, and natural forest. Remloc would have enjoyed his time in the woods if it weren’t for the circumstance that brought him here. Being stuck may have been frustrating, but part of him was glad that he had a moment to collect himself before he had to answer to Satan. He moved his eyes, having heard a faint noise. It sounded like someone had struck a match over the back of a matchbook cover.

It grew louder as the sound came again. It came a third time like the firing of a jet engine. Suddenly, the tree Remloc leaned beside burst into bright-blue flames. A towering funnel of fire soared into the sky. It gradually spun until it came crashing down all at once. The funnel ruptured into an enormous cloud of black smoke. Once the dust settled, it revealed that the entire area had been scorched by the massive heat. All the brush and vegetation burned into smolders. The animals that didn’t flee were instantly incinerated. A deadly scene of decay encompassed everything. Remloc stood in front of a circle of flames. The vortex revolved around and around with a strange reddish hue. The fire was cool to the touch. This had been what Remloc was waiting for. The Hell tunnel had opened, and after much waiting, he was ready to enter into Hell.

Finally, he thought as he took a long stride toward the maelstrom of fire glowing ever so brightly. The demon fell forward with controlled precision. As if by floating, Remloc entered the tunnel. The fire engulfed him. Within seconds, he was gone, and no traces of him were left behind. The tunnel sent him hurling at speeds that surely would rip the flesh from a human being. Before Remloc knew it, he completed his journey into Hell. Remloc was now resting on top of a high cliff, the Cliff of Advenire. The cliff rose high above the glorious city of Hell. From the peak, a grid-like layout with finely paved roads could be seen. Thousands of tiny houses lined the roadways. In the center of the city was a vast fountain, with tall green trees and splendid lantern-lit light posts. Far off in the distance laid Satan’s palace. It was a truly superb structure. Nothing could match its size and glory. In front, there was a large courtyard. The entire palace was surrounded by an enormous gate.

Remloc took a winding path down from the cliff to the ground below. It ran down and weaved its way through the peak for a great distance. The cliff must have rose thousands of feet from where his feet now set. Hell was much more beautiful up close. Many rows of wooden and stone houses were placed around the city. Each house was constructed with intricate designs and built using the greatest techniques. These structures were as ancient as time itself yet were still as sturdy and as beautiful as the day each one was erected. A strange type of lettering was scattered over each home and every road. It was either etched on the surface or crafted from fine woods and mounted on. These markings were used to indicate the different boroughs and families of the city. The more detailed and extravagant the markings, the more status the area and the family had. Of course, the palace displayed the best engravings.

Remloc took a brisk pace while he walked through the splendor of Hell. He was headed for the palace, and there was no time to waste. This was the home and workplace of the demon. It had been his home for nearly his entire existence. Remloc seemed to always be the death dealer. It was as if he skipped childhood and adolescence to jump straight to adulthood. As far as demons go, his life