Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

Holy Hell
Holy Hell
Holy Hell
Ebook579 pages9 hours

Holy Hell

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars

()

Read preview

About this ebook

When 15 year old Yue lays her eyes on the Grim Reaper, her life transforms. Sephirah, the scythe-wielding messenger of Death, whisks Yue out of the troubled human world and into the afterlife, teaching her the wonders of magick as she goes. From the airborne cities of Hell to the misty graveyards of Heaven, Yue’s power expands. She soon engages in the conflict between the spirits in Hell and the demons of Heaven. Her fear of returning home intensifies and Yue must make her choice- to live and breathe in misery, or follow Sephirah and have her last bit of sanity scraped away...
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateMar 25, 2005
ISBN9781463475376
Holy Hell
Author

Gabrielle Alighieri

Gabrielle Alighieri lives and attends school in South Brunswick, New Jersey. She began writing Holy Hell at the age of 14 and was published at 17. In addition to writing, Ms. Alighieri also enjoys fine arts and graphic design. This is her first published novel.

Related authors

Related to Holy Hell

Related ebooks

Suspense For You

View More

Related articles

Reviews for Holy Hell

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars
0 ratings

0 ratings0 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

    Book preview

    Holy Hell - Gabrielle Alighieri

    Holy Hell

    by

    Gabrielle Alighieri

    34619.png

    AuthorHouse™

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.authorhouse.com

    Phone: 833-262-8899

    ©

    2005 Gabrielle Alighieri. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

    Published by AuthorHouse 01/07/2022

    ISBN: 978-1-4208-3101-6 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4634-7537-6 (e)

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

    and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

    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.

    Contents

    PART I

    LIVING IN SILENCE

    I

    II

    III

    IV

    V

    VI

    VII

    PART II

    THE TRIPTYCH

    VIII

    IX

    X

    XI

    XII

    XIII

    XIV

    XV

    XVI

    XVII

    XVIII

    XIX

    XX

    PART III

    LAWS OF THE HUNT

    XXI

    XXII

    XXIII

    XXIV

    XXV

    XXVI

    XXVII

    XXVIII

    XXIX

    XXX

    XXXI

    XXXII

    XXXIII

    XXXIV

    XXXV

    XXXVI

    XXXVII

    XXXVIII

    IXL

    XL

    PART IV

    LIFE AFTER DEATH

    XLI

    XLII

    XLIII

    XLIV

    XLV

    About the Author

    Dedicated to

    Edward, Josiah, and Susan

    West%20World..jpgEast%20World.jpg

    PART I

    LIVING IN SILENCE

    I

    The wildest things happen to the most normal of people. Actually, I couldn’t call myself normal...it wouldn’t be technically or morally correct. Few of the girls in our city of Pixel could be rightfully defined as normal. Plus, it’s widely believed that no one in the world is normal. But I stopped believing that when I, at a young age, found out what kind of a family I had been born in, and why I was supposed to be pushed down for things I couldn’t help. Some people are normal, while others are not.

    Yue! called my mother, who was a stout, elderly woman. She had been doing chores in the house for years as a housewife. My little sister, Dawn, and I had to help her do these things and be at home all the time.

    This meant that we didn’t go to school. I was fifteen and I had not yet set foot in a classroom. It wasn’t that we didn’t have to go...we didn’t get to go. We were female. Unable. Weak. People with smaller brains. Our schooling would be a waste of money, the money our parents could offer the husbands they chose for us later on. Only my two older brothers received an education, and that was the way it was all over Pixel. However, Pixel wasn’t some horrible, impoverished third-world place...we were actually an industrial-commercial metropolis with billions of dollars and thriving companies. Our streets were as smoky and trashed as any other in this world, Zodiac, but everyone seemed to be okay with it.

    Yeah? I asked, looking up. My wavy incandescent red hair fell a little over my shoulder as I looked up. My mother was halfway down the stairs, and was staring at me. She carried a load of laundry in her arms, and clearly she was tired.

    Can you help Dawn open all the windows? she asked. It’s so hot in here. Also…I haven’t gotten much money from your father yet, but I want you to go to the grocery store down in the market and buy some flour after you’re done. I wanted to see if I could make some rolls for dinner before the sun goes down.

    Yeah, I repeated, this time in reply. I unlocked the window and let the hot summer breeze in. It’d make the house even more like an oven- I guessed my mother didn’t know that. I couldn’t wait to get outside. I rarely ever had a reason to get out of the house. I mostly saw parts of the city as I looked out the window or as I watched the TV or read the newspaper. I was a sheltered prisoner, unable to escape from the cage.

    I noticed that the windows were very clean as I opened them. In one window, I stared at the reflection of my emerald eyes for a while, before looking away. My eyes would look awesome if only I had some eyeliner on or something to make them stand out more. I wasn’t allowed to wear makeup- not now, not ever. I had wanted some for the longest time, but if my brothers and father didn’t give me a hard time as a result of that...he would.

    My mother arrived with twenty dollars in her hand. Bring me back the change she said monotonously, passing it to me. And then she walked out of sight.

    Sure, I replied, running up to my room. I opened my closet door and the vast array of dresses appeared before me. The third thing I wasn’t allowed to do: wear anything but a dress. If I wanted to wear a shirt or blouse, I could, but I had to wear a long skirt underneath it. Needless to say, most of them were floral and of a light color. It was a critical sin for a girl in Pixel to wear dark clothing. Somehow, they thought of the color white as showing defenselessness and frailty, virginity and obedience. I grabbed a dark blue jean jacket and a basic white dress, so I could have the best of both worlds without being stared at. I quickly dressed and went downstairs to put on my plain white boots.

    The air outside in the Athame District of Pixel was rather warm, yet relaxing at the same time. I walked east from my house into the market area, where there were crowds and crowds of people battling over goods. The long stone divider that spilt the small road for pedestrians coming and going had thousands of grubby white candles on it, burning away and making the air intolerable. The filthy smoke from the candles and the polluted steam from the sewers made the street air total hazard for the lungs. To shield the shoppers, thieves, vendors, and policemen, giant white tents had been built over small, random sections of the market. They only helped to keep the smoke in, but everyone was used to it these days. It was almost as if we humans had mutated after centuries of our own destruction.

    Of course, Pixel was a city with banks full of money to spend. But districts like Athame were slums. They had undersized streets, they were crowded, they were completely impoverished and they were practically drowning in smoke.

    Although the air was covered in an unnatural, unhygienic fog, my dress flowed as if there were clean wind and I somehow felt free in it. I usually didn’t feel comfortable, watching the boys easily running far and wide in their jeans or pants. I constantly imagined what it would be like to wear them, but I knew that punishment would ensue.

    Yue!

    My mind snapped into gear once more as I heard someone else call my name. The person emerged from the nearly-opaque atmosphere. I turned to see a girl with long, straight black hair running toward me. She held her deep blue dress up so she could get to me quickly. I couldn’t help but smile as I watched her floating toward me like an angel. Her name was Hera, and she was the one and only friend that I had. Everyone we knew seemed to loathe her, including our parents. She considered herself too free, so independent, and her violet-blue eyes seemed to haunt everyone with an uncertain darkness…everyone besides me. The bottomless indigo of her eyes never ceased to fascinate me, and I would often want to stare into them for hours. I was sometimes jealous of her.

    What’s going on? she asked happily, grinning at me. Did your mother send you for something? Hera didn’t wait for me to answer. I just escaped from all of my chores. My mother will be calling me back any minute now, so we’d better talk fast.

    I laughed in reply. She took my hand and we both continued our walk through the crowded, narrow market street. My mother sent me to get flour from the store. She’s going to bake.

    Oh, she’s wonderful! Hera squealed. I wish my mother weren’t such a terrible cook. My father married her only because of her dowry. I stopped walking. One of the power lines hanging above our heads rocked and a bright bolt of electricity encircled its length. She then covered her mouth. There was a word in there I didn’t like, and she knew it.

    "Hera..." I moaned.

    I’m sorry, Yue! she answered, blushing. I won’t say it again, I promise. Anyway, let’s go to the store that’s deeper inside the market, instead of the closer one. My house is just back there...and I don’t want my mother to see me or anything.

    We did our best to run through the crowd into the grocery store a few blocks within the cluttered market. The store had an air conditioner inside, and so it was refreshing and cool in there, unlike in the street. Hera sighed as we entered the tiny store. It was always an experience, escaping from our housework. We wandered directly into the baking aisle and picked up a five-pound bag of unbleached flour. My mother always insisted on unbleached, and I couldn’t guess why. I wasn’t a cook, like her. As I lifted the bag, we heard voices in the next aisle.

    Hey, what are you doing, John? We don’t have enough time or money to waste on shit like that! one male voice yelled in a harsh tone. Hera took a quick step back after hearing this, and so did I. She did for the voice, I did for the name.

    "I do, Mike." Hera took another step back, this time for the name. This man’s voice was easily recognizable for me, its slick, suave attitude...

    Mike was Hera’s fiancé. He was strong and devious, and had misled her parents into thinking that he was worthy of her. Hera and I were the only ones who knew that he was far from it. He was from an unbelievably wealthy family, and Hera’s parents had unthinkingly jumped at that fact. They didn’t care that he disrespected her to no end and tried to shame her in front of as many people as he could. All they wanted was for her to love him and abide by him eternally, for their financial benefit. Hera, unable to escape her parents’ decision, hated Mike. But another emotion came to her along with the hatred- utter fear. Hera’s phobia of Mike was something I couldn’t understand. Every time she saw him, she’d break down and panic.

    "No...no..." she sobbed, falling to her knees. She grabbed my leg, shivering.

    Shh, I whispered, stroking her hair. It was always hard to comfort her when she became like this. It’s going to be all right. If you don’t make noise, he won’t come here and pester you again... Hera couldn’t listen to me, not when her worst fear was in the next aisle. I knew that she’d much rather have a thousand snakes crawling over her than take a look into Mike’s hateful eyes. She began to cry loudly, clutching my leg tighter and tighter with each moan.

    What’s going on over there? I heard John say. Something was put back on the shelf in their aisle. I think it might be...

    Hera? Mike answered in a disgusted voice. He and John appeared in our aisle. I had no time to pay attention to the way Mike was looking at Hera…John and I had finally met again. He blew his flaxen hair out of his face and frowned at me. It had been two weeks since I had purposely disgraced him.

    I stared grimly into his cold, aqua eyes. His frown tried to shatter me, but I wouldn’t let it. John was my fiancé. He was the most handsome boy in Pixel, probably the most attractive in all of Zodiac. But that striking exterior hid well the cruelty and wrongfulness hiding inside. John loved to treat me like an object- his object. I was made specifically for him, for him to look at, to touch, and to hate. I hated him back as well, but had absolutely no fear of him like Hera had of Mike.

    "Yue, he said, even more appalled at me than Mike at Hera. Where the fuck were you last time! You made a complete fool of yourself!"

    Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Mike had grabbed Hera’s hair and was yanking it forcefully as she cried.

    I shook my head. "I made a complete fool of you. You were the one who promised everyone in that family of yours that I’d visit…so you could ‘show me to them’. I wasn’t going to be showcased like a motorcycle." I made sure to use a motorcycle as an example…it was the flashy, pricey kind of machine that only wealthy families like John’s could afford. I had never had the chance to ride one, and I didn’t plan to.

    John stepped toward me and I took a defensive step back. Mike had stopped going after Hera for a moment, just to help John out. What were friends for, anyway? He looked as if he was prepared to rip me to pieces.

    That was John’s family reunion, Yue! he snapped. You had no right to be at home!

    I’ll never let him show me off! I retorted back. "And you…you leave Hera alone! Stay out of this!" Mike’s dark eyes flared. John’s hand crumpled into a fist and I noticed the bright, flesh-tearing diamond rings on his fingers. He, like Mike, was a sleazy rich snob showing off in the Athame District. If he was going to punch me, then so be it. I’d inspire all the girls of Pixel.

    "Don’t you tell me how to treat this dumb bitch!" Mike growled. He wanted to punch me, I knew, but he couldn’t. I was John’s possession, and therefore Mike had to ask for permission before touching me. Instead, he yanked Hera into an upright position and slapped her face.

    What do you think you’re doing? I cried, lunging at him. I dropped the flour bag onto the floor, and its grainy white contents spilled on the floor. Helpless, Hera began to cry even louder, and tried to crawl behind me. She didn’t have any physical strength like I did. The lone employee in the store didn’t even bother to notice. This was just the way it was in Pixel, and I had to live with it. I heard myself call Hera’s name out as John held me back.

    Mike took Hera out from behind me and flung her at the glass door of the store so hard; I was surprised that the glass didn’t shatter. She landed on the floor, her long hair lying in a heap around her. A woman who had been shopping in the next aisle ran over to Hera, trying to help her. Her husband angrily pulled her away.

    Yue, she said through heavy tears. Yue, help me! Mike’s going to-

    I knew what she was about to say, even though Mike had stopped her by kicking her. He threw his foot into her body as if he were launching a soccer ball. Hera rolled across the floor, clutching her stomach in pain. I broke through John’s grip as I felt my heart tear. My feet began to run. The image was burned into my brain.

    It’s not fair! I thought, the tears leaving my eyes. It’s not fair at all! Why Hera?

    Crashing to the hard surface of the floor, I knew that John had tripped me. He loved watching Mike beat up Hera, wishing he could do the same to me. He hated the thought of me rescuing her and humiliating both of them like I did so often. He wanted to be as loyal as he could to Mike, and vice versa, so they could be superior to Hera and me. I didn’t understand their mentality, nor did I want to.

    I made thousands of attempts to stand, but my back felt broken. The pain was unbearable, but nothing in comparison to the view I had. I watched helplessly as Mike dragged Hera out of the store. Her face was bruised, but she remained beautiful. Her eyes took one last look at me, and her eyes were soft and calm. And then she disappeared out of view.

    The lone employee kept working, business as usual.

    "No," I said to myself quietly, my head falling on the hard, drafty floor. I didn’t even care that I was lying there, with John standing over me. I didn’t care about anything or anyone in the world…just Hera.

    Swiftly, an icy draft came over me, a deathly wind. No one else in the store seemed to feel the sudden horrid, shadowy darkness like I did. There was both an intention to kill and an urge to die within my heart. I suddenly felt as if there were no escape from these inhuman emotions. It crawled through the doors and windows, over the aisles and seeped over me before it spoke with a shadowy vocalization that resonated only in my mind.

    It is Hera’s time, and nothing can be done…let her go…

    The voice in my head came as soon as it went, and then the draft disappeared moments after. I stood up.

    Hera’s time? I thought. What does that mean?

    "Come here, Yue, John whispered in a horrifying voice. I had nearly forgotten about him. You’re going to have to accept the fact that you are my fiancée sooner or later. Why don’t we go somewhere quiet, like wherever Mike and Hera are going? Don’t make me have to force you too, Yue…" He gave a hugely discomforting smile.

    I stood up, brushed myself off, and made sure that he saw my fist. "Not in a million years! You’re the most sickening person I’ve ever seen! All the men in Pixel are embarrassments to all men everywhere else!"

    My fiancé grabbed my shoulder, spreading his fingers to make it look as though his hand was bigger than it actually was. "You really think so? I think they’re the embarrassment. They don’t know how to use force! He tried to shove me on his last word, but I kept my feet on the floor. John shook his head and his eyes gleamed. If it’s Hera you’re worried about, she’s fine. Mike’ll take good care of her. She’ll be giving him a lot of pleasure, and she’ll scream out his name…"

    I wouldn’t have it whenever John talked about Hera that way, so I threw my fist into his left cheek and landed the punch.

    Hey! the lone employee screeched. "Stop being so rowdy, girl!"

    Sorry about that, I thought as I stared coldly at him. I’ll try to be more serene, like Mike.

    John lunged at me, but I jumped out of the way. I knew that he wanted the same thing from me that Mike wanted from Hera, and I wouldn’t let him have it. I wouldn’t let it be my time either. Before John could say another word to me, I fled the store. The warm air was no longer comforting.

    II

    I lost my way in the streets, but made sure not to leave the district. I had no flour, no friend, and no money. I had lost my mother’s cash while fighting in the store. I felt like trash. I was.

    All there was for me to see was the filthy market and whitish-blackish fog, so I just watched my feet as they walked on the paved street. The smells of fresh fruit and gasoline were both in the air at the same time, and made my stomach queasy. How could something so natural and something so artificial exist so closely? I rarely saw anything to do with the environment in Pixel anymore. All I saw were terrible people, anarchic laws, junk, and machinery. And this was just one city on a planet that had turned from true to false.

    Mike and John are to blame, not you, I thought to myself. It’s their fault. It’s always been their fault!

    Yet, I couldn’t help believing that I could have done something for her, something to save her from those two demons. I couldn’t save her, and now I wouldn’t even be able to find her. Mike had most likely taken Hera ten districts over, where he could be out of harm’s way. Women weren’t allowed to leave their districts unless accompanied by a male or had written permission from one. There was no doubt that he was still in Pixel, though. He could do anything he ever dreamed of doing here, no matter how wrong it was. But I couldn’t. Mike, Hera, John, and I were all the same, yet two were considered better than the others.

    Can’t I leave Pixel for just one moment? I asked myself, walking along with my eyes closed. It was time to forget about Hera. Mike was awful, but he couldn’t do anything as serious as I was imagining. I didn’t need to worry…or at least worry that much. "Everyone should disappear. Or better yet, every man in Pixel should die. I want to go far away from here, and I don’t care how evil that wish is-"

    I stopped walking when I felt eyes on me. Looking to my left, I saw a massive church that began to haunt me the moment I laid eyes on it. The church, with its unusually high towers, and was made of a strange-looking black marble. The grounds seemed as if they had been beautiful at a time, but were now covered with gray headstones. The area was quiet around, and it seemed I had gone about a half-mile away from the bustling market. A cold-looking man, maybe somewhere in his thirties, was standing in front of the church’s black iron gate, but he was staring at me.

    Are you all right? he asked, not blinking. He leaned against the fence You’re talking to yourself. I shrugged and kicked a pebble that had been sitting in front of my foot.

    I’m fine, I replied. Turning to look at the mysterious church, I asked, When was this place built? I don’t remember seeing it here. I tried not to question my words, although it seemed I was lying.

    The man grunted softly, obviously not wanting to get into a conversation. But he replied anyway. This church has always been here, girl. But the priests who used to work here said that they didn’t like it here anymore, and they didn’t explain why. They all got up, packed up their things and left for the new church in the Olympicus District. The one over there is a sight. It’s made of white marble…and its grounds are covered in flowers.

    As I looked over the building for the third time, I could tell why no one wanted to preach there any longer. The place made me think of one word and one word only: death.

    This church is haunted, the man continued, with narrowing eyes. "They were right to leave it. It’s too dangerous to walk in there and do anything inside. Praying at the altar alone would be suicide. The spirit in there doesn’t like anyone."

    I shuddered, not because of this man’s tale’s, but because I believed him. Why? Have…have you seen it before? Have you seen the spirit that lives in there? My eyes strayed from the building to the graves. Most of the tombstones had years engraved on them, years that weren’t far apart.

    I’m only around twenty years older than you, miss, the man told me. It seemed as if he immediately regretted calling me miss rather than girl. He sighed, and lowered his voice. I’m still young. It’s not like I’m some old man who’s been gawking at this place for decades, wondering whether or not it’ll come back for me…

    The man was looking away from me now, but not watching the church either. It was almost as if he were staring into space, thinking of a past incident. I tried my hardest to dig into his thoughts, but it was impossible. What was he thinking about? It? What had this guy seen? Then his gaze snapped back toward me, his brownish-greenish eyes becoming more troubled with each second.

    "You...you’ve been disturbed by it, haven’t you? I asked. Haven’t you?" My heart started racing, and I didn’t know why. Why did I care so much for this man who I’d just met? Was it because I didn’t want anyone else to get hurt today? Did I want to save whoever I could now?

    An unfriendly smile spread on his face as he turned and slowly began walking away. Shut up, he said shaking his head. Mind your own business, girl. I watched him walk further and further until he disappeared into the market crowd far off.

    Everything’s over for me, I thought. But at least I don’t have to live in constant fear like he does. Touching the cold iron gate, my hands almost froze onto it. No…it couldn’t be that frightening inside the church. It was just a building, nothing else. The gate creaked as I opened it. My heart was beating hard as I realized how cold I was. Slowly and carefully, I made my way through the cemetery. The ground was soft, almost as if the graves had been freshly dug.

    The wind blew a lonely tune in my ear, and my hair blew across my face. If my hair had been darker, I was sure the wind would have left me alone. I wasn’t too far away from the empty street leading to and from the market, yet I felt that I was already in the grasp of something evil. Its presence hung all about me, no matter how I tried to resist it. I heard tortured voices of the dead calling out at me, screaming at me and my world…to come and join them in theirs.

    What’s that? I asked myself. Hearing my own voice was a comfort, but not comfort enough. There were more graves laid far on the right side of the gloomy church, and one of them had something protruding from the ground- something other than a tombstone. It was too big to be a flower, and besides, flowers were rare in Pixel. There were five points coming from the short stick coming from the ground…

    Then, I finally realized it. It’s a hand! I shrieked in my mind. A hand! I screamed.

    "It’s a hand!" I cried out violently, turning around to run. As I moved the other way, I felt yet another hand being laid on my shoulder. I yelled even louder, my eyes closed tight. It pulled me further and further along, and I didn’t know whether I was going toward the gate or the church.

    Quit crying! a voice snapped. I hit the street and opened my eyes. I was just outside of the ghostly cemetery. My vision blurred, but I blinked away the tears and looked up at the familiar face. It was the man who had explained the church to me. I quickly got on my feet.

    What are you doing here? I asked, stammering the entire question.

    He shook his head in disgust. "What were you doing?! I told you not to go in there! As I left, I realized that a stupid girl like you would do exactly the opposite, so I came back to make sure! If you go in there again, I won’t risk my life to save you!" With that, he stormed back toward the market, saying something to himself.

    It’s that bad inside? I asked, gazing upon the dark building. Going in there was risking his life? I didn’t want to ask any more questions, not now. I took off toward the market.

    Mom! I called, bursting through the front door of my house. The fresh two-story entrance hall greeted me horribly with a feeling of doom. "Mom!" My mother walked quietly through the parlor door and stared.

    Yue she said. We were wondering what had happened to you. Look at you! Any other mother would have cried tears of joy and would have hugged me. I stared down at my tattered dress and my ripped jacket.

    It…it was J-

    "Yue!" a loud, angry voice interrupted. I heard heavy pairs of footsteps coming toward me. My mother stepped away, as my father emerged into the foyer. He had a malicious glare in his eyes. I backed away slowly, but that didn’t help.

    What’s wrong? I asked, trying not to look frightened. What’d I do now?

    Don’t even try to lie to me, you disobedient child! he yelled. "John told me the entire story, about how you and Hera dishonored them in public! I am disgusted!" Upon hearing his name, John stepped out of the parlor. He was handsomely dressed up, with hundred-dollar bills peeking from his pockets and a cruel grin on his face.

    How’s it going, my rude pet? he asked.

    I stared angrily at him for a few seconds before talking. He lied, I stated as loudly as I could. "He lied to all of you! John is just a devious, untrustworthy, murderous little boy!"

    How dare you speak to me like that? my fiancé snapped. He walked over and sharply slapped my cheek. Maybe that will teach you! I tried my hardest to resist the force from his hand and not let my head turn. As his hand slid off, I pretended to wipe off my cheek.

    My parents and John all glared at me upon seeing that action. I didn’t care…I just wanted to know was where Hera was, and what Mike was doing to her. There was nothing else to think about, nothing. All I knew was that Hera was getting hurt. Or…or maybe it was over now.

    III

    Yue, Dawn said, looking up from the newspaper. It had been a week since I had last seen my best friend. This morning, I was washing dishes so they’d be clean when some of my relatives and their friends arrived. "You’re not going to like this. You’re really not going to like this."

    I kept on staring at her for one reason- how could she know whether or not I’d enjoy the news? Dawn was nine going on to ten, and my parents had never found the time to teach her to read. It wasn’t so important for her to learn. When she was born, they had spent all their time lining her up with a baby boy two districts over, one that had been born a few months earlier. I, however, always looked on when my brothers were learning to read, so I knew how.

    C’mon, I told her with a smile. Read it for me.

    You’re going to freak out…

    No, I won’t. Just tell me, and I’ll decide whether to get angry or sad or whatever, okay?

    Dawn shrugged and stared at the paper hard for a few moments. Um, it looks like it’s saying something about some girl, she read hesitantly. She was found in the Forest Reserve District dead…Hera…

    Part of me wanted to burst out laughing. I mean, what kind of horrible joke was that? I was worried about her, and yet someone thought it was funny to submit that kind of thing to the Pixel newspaper? It was hilarious. The other part, the conscious, perceptive part, was crying inside and out. If Hera had been okay, she would have come to me days ago. She was dead now, and I knew who her killer was. I hated him even more than John now.

    Give me that! I cried, tearing the newspaper away from Dawn’s hands. She was almost in tears herself, for she had known what Hera had meant to me. I read it for myself. Hera, my only friend, had been found a day ago in the Forest Reserve District. The newspaper stated that she had been raped, and then shot numerous times. She had been left to die. Since her killer was male, the police were questioning whether or not to go after him.

    I’m sorry, Dawn mumbled. Her voice was so guilty; she might as well have been Mike anyway.

    I’m going to kill him! I screamed. I’m going to kill Mike, and he’ll die a horrible, painful death! He’ll- I stopped when my mother walked into the room. She was covered in gloom, as usual.

    Hush, Yue, she said softly. Don’t cry. You’ll upset everyone. It’s all right…if she was a good, honest woman in life, Hera is in a better place now.

    I didn’t care if Hera was in a better place. I wanted her here, with me.

    This life is unfair, I thought. I had stopped crying on the outside, but my mind was still weeping. Why not end it here, before John ends it for me? What kind of world is this, one that is undeserving and unjust-?

    It is the world you live in. Killing yourself means that you will go into another world unwillingly. It’s a waste spending your afterlife like that. Why don’t you just leave this world alive, and go somewhere else for a time?

    It was the voice again; the one that had said it was Hera’s time. Who was it? Who was reading my thoughts and answering?

    Who are you? I thought, as I walked into the living room to sit down. It wouldn’t be right for my mother and Dawn to see me just standing there, speaking within my head. Tell me who you are, and why you’re invading my privacy.

    The voice was silent for a moment, but then it spoke up. ‘These thoughts of yours are never private, never to me. But if you want me to leave you, I’ll leave now.’ And then it left, this time not causing a heavy feeling. Somehow, I felt like I wanted it to return. It had offered some kind of comfort, but I didn’t understand what kind.

    Hera’s funeral was tomorrow. I stood at my bedroom window, watching the waning crescent moon overhead. Darkness covered most of it, so barely any light shone over the streets, which were already poorly-lit by streetlights. Someday we’d have no day or night- the sky would be too polluted to be able to tell. The atmosphere would become opaque and block out our view of the sun, moon, stars, and clouds. We’d just have our streetlights on all day on this dingy planet.

    Hey, did you hear about that girl who was murdered? a voice called in the street below. Although it was nighttime, sleepless people in Pixel were common. I leaned out of my window and noticed a little boy running across the street to meet with a little girl. Small children having conversations about this kind of thing and with being out alone at this hour were common as well.

    The girl had a huge grin on her face. Yeah, I heard about it! What’re they gonna do about it? The boy shrugged and gave the same grin.

    I don’t know! he replied in a pointlessly loud voice. I hope they catch him soon. I don’t want anyone coming after you, especially now that we’re engaged!

    These cute little kids yelling in the middle of the night were engaged. I imagined their parents making business deals with each other, and immediately became sick.

    The girl’s smile became more humane. No one can come after me, she said gently. Our families are moving away from Pixel next month, remember? We’re going to Adelphi.

    We can’t any more. Every district in Adelphi has changed its rules- they’d treat you there the same way you’re treated here.

    Oh…we’re going somewhere else, then?

    Maybe. They took each other’s small hands and began skipping around.

    Shutting the window, I figured I was done. There was no way I’d continue watching these little children who had become friends regardless of what their parents had done to them. I would have given anything to be that little girl skipping in the street with that little boy. Anything at all.

    I had worn a silky black dress that day, with a long black coat and the best-looking boots I had. It was raining outside, so I dug around and uncovered the black umbrella in my room. I’d been given permission to wear a trivial amount of jewelry, so I was wearing a necklace made with a real diamond. Diamonds were another addition to the long list of things you rarely found in Pixel, maybe Zodiac altogether. They had been handed down through my mother’s side, and now it was my turn to wear them.

    Carefully touching the shiny stone on my neck, I spied on John. He was standing in the graveyard, eyeing some of the headstones. From the look in his eyes and the way he happily twirled his umbrella, it almost seemed as if he were pleased that these people were dead. John hadn’t even bothered to wear black in respect. He somehow passed himself off wearing a terrible light gray. Shaking my head in disgust, I turned and walked into the church.

    We weren’t in the beautiful, white-marble church newly built in the Olympicus District. Hera’s funeral was to take place in the cold, haunted black-marble church of the Athame District. The place seemed unable to cast its spell on me when I wasn’t alone. I entered through the left wing of the cross-shaped church. It was the door closest to the street. The interior of the church was beautiful as any other, but still had that sense of impending doom waiting in the dusty corners. I immediately caught sight of Hera’s mother, and to my surprise she was crying incessantly. My mother was seated on one side of her trying to comfort her, but was unsuccessful because she wasn’t saying much. Hera’s father sat on the other side, staring at the altar like a stone statue.

    Dawn and some other girls her age were walking around the church, taking small, ladylike steps. My brothers were running wildly around the place, despite their age. People who I didn’t know were sitting in the pews, some crying, and some staring. I wanted to go and take a look at Hera’s closed coffin, but I had no flowers to lay on it…and I didn’t know what to say to it either.

    I continued to walk around, in hopes of maybe finding it. As I looked around the building, it seemed almost impossible for a demonic spirit to be living within its walls. Maybe it was in the darker areas of the church; I was only brave enough to walk around in the light. The ceiling was high above my head, and was decorated with a mural of flying angels. There were six chandeliers going down the length of the building. There were crosses everywhere, painted on the walls, molded onto the statues, on the books, and even some of the lit candles were shaped like crosses. There were some more on the altar, but they were neon and weren’t lit.

    They’re meant to make you feel safe, I mumbled to myself. But it still seems so dangerous in here.

    I came back around to where my mother and Hera’s mother were sitting. Hera’s mother was struggling to say something through her tears, and my mother’s jaw had dropped. Slowly, I moved and quietly seated myself behind them.

    Shh…it’s all right, my mother said gently, stroking Hera’s mother’s dark hair. That is the way life is sometimes.

    "Mike…that boy…he killed my poor little girl, she sobbed. She did nothing to him and he killed her! Now he doesn’t have to face the law!"

    I stood up, knocking over a few of the songbooks. "No! I cried. No! You’re wrong!" My mother turned to look at me.

    Yue… she started. But she couldn’t finish, for I turned and ran into the darkness of the church.

    It was dark and murky there, and a strange white mist seeped through the floor. I didn’t care at all, and continued to walk through it. No one had come after me, so I had this place all to myself.

    Hera’s dead! I yelled to myself. My voice echoed and bounced from one wall to another. It became stranger and stranger, like a lifeless tone screaming for help. I immediately decided not to speak out loud anymore. It was useless, completely useless.

    I kept walking through halls and pitch-black rooms, not caring that I was getting lost. It was almost if I knew where I was going, but there was something new to be seen in every room. After going down a long, steep flight of stairs, I stopped walking. The sounds of the funeral were no more, and I couldn’t hear them even if I strained to. The atmosphere down in the church basement was so humid, so threatening and fearsome, yet I was too afraid to turn around and leave.

    My fear immediately brought me back to that day in the graveyard, where that stranger had risked his life to save me. Now I was in the clutches of the spirit he had mentioned. There could be no help.

    The loud sound of metal hitting the stone floor brought me back to reality. Shivers went up my spine and I almost took a step back. I was afraid that if I went back up, the door at the top of the stairs would slam shut. Gathering all of my courage, I walked toward the sound, deeper and deeper into the darkness until I noticed something lying on the floor, under a window.

    The small amount of light revealed a long, carefully molded black pole. No, it was a staff… It was thin enough for me to possibly hold it in my hands, yet thick enough to carry around. Before bending down, I noticed that the pole’s length went out of the light’s reach. The part of it that lay in the darkness had a large silver blade that barely glowed in the darkness. It was a scythe.

    What could a scythe be doing down here? I thought to myself. I knelt to pick it up, but then I heard and felt something else fall to the floor and roll away. What was going on? Just as my fingers brushed the weapon, it was whisked away by something else and slid across the floor into the dark.

    I jumped backward from the light. Something had taken the scythe. Just as I realized this, I heard footsteps echoing. They were loud and slow, and the person or thing must have been wearing heavy boots. If I had been in possession of the scythe I wouldn’t have been as afraid, but now I was terrified.

    I should never have come down here, I softly whined as the sound became louder. I was still too frightened to run back up the stairs, as I knew the door would slam. Now they’re going to have a funeral for me too…

    When the area became silent, I looked up. Nothing was to be seen, but I still felt some kind of a presence before me. A menacing presence, standing just on the other side of the window light.

    Who are you? a deep male voice suddenly asked, reverberating against unseen walls. Afraid to answer, I began trembling and took two huge steps backward into the darkness. Glancing behind, I could see the stairway leading to the less haunted areas of the church. I faced forward, afraid to look upon whoever was there.

    Then…the spirit emerged from the darkness and let the light cover him.

    He was a young man wearing a long black cloak. As I carefully looked him over, I began to feel as if I were…falling…I landed on my knees. Staring at the man, I felt so strange, as if I were being eaten alive. I couldn’t estimate how old he was. His body was built like a young adult although in his eyes I saw the passing of many lifetimes. His hair, which hung down his back, was a platinum silver-white. Thinking of what my male relatives would say about this, I almost wanted to laugh. But I couldn’t; there was too much fear swimming in my veins at the moment. His many-layered cloak, made of a strange-looking material, was amazing. It trailed onto the floor and covered his feet. I then noticed a large silver cross dangling from under one of the cloak’s layers. When he saw that I was staring at it, he clutched it in his hands.

    His hands…even paler than his face, and so thin…

    The young man took a few steps towards me and bent over to gaze into my eyes. His were a light blue-gray and glowed in the darkness. His dark pupils were almond-shaped and widened slightly as he came out from the window’s light.

    Cat-eyes, I thought. When I stood up, I realized that he towered over me. We kept eye contact, as I was too afraid to look away. This young man had an unexpected essence of beauty, but he was still rather strange. He seemed virtuous, yet totally evil…

    Who are you? I asked, surprised to hear that my voice was trembling. Somehow I didn’t want to be frightened of him at all. He didn’t seem that threatening…or maybe I was too terrified to tell.

    He frowned. I asked first, he said gently. His voice was so familiar, yet so unreal to me. I am the priest of this church, and I live here.

    You…live here? I asked, my eyes straying to the void that was the rest of the room. Don’t you know about the spirit that lives in the walls of this place?

    The young man gave me a haunting stare that I would remember. ‘Spirit’, he repeated under his breath. "And I bet I

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1