Jagged Edges

By Jocelyn Bleu

Bennett Caelum is a traitor. He chose the losing side during The Great War. Captured by The Angel of Death, he was sent to Heall Hall, Heaven's notorious prison for the most dangerous criminals, to pay for his crimes.

Although death is a fate he welcomes, he cannot forget the promise to avenge the lives of those he loved stolen by the archangels on The Council. While he awaits his sentencing, he finds that there is kindness amongst the concrete walls of the prison. Can he somehow escape his doom to fulfill his vow, or will the consequences of his decisions ensure his oaths remain empty words?

Discover Bennett's history in this gripping short story before he embarks on a soul altering journey of love, peril, and heartbreak in the Crimson Promises series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jocelyn Bleu
• Release date: Jan 9, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224849574

Book preview

The Angel of Death had me pinned by my wings. Warm saliva trickled down the back of my neck. Blackness enveloped me, and this darkness wasn’t long or peaceful.

I awoke to a steady trickle of water hitting the inside crease of my elbow.

Plop, plop, plop.

Everything was dark, not the type of darkness that your eyes adjust to, the type that swallows you whole, the kind that makes you wonder if you have succumbed to eternal death. I lifted what I hoped was still my neck and tilted my head back, trying to gauge a better understanding of where the fuck I was. My skull bashed against concrete. I lifted my arm to feel if the hit tore through the skin or if there was blood, but the movement of my arm was halted by the telltale clinking of chains. The odd musical sound was cutting through the gloom.

I blinked a few times, trying to see where I was—the why was obvious. I got onto my hands and knees, the cool floor acted as an unexpected balm against my skin. Crawling as far as my chains would let me, I felt against the floor for anything I could use as a weapon or something to help get me out of these restraints. The ground was some variation of polished concrete, it was hard to the touch, and though my nails dug into the ground, no crevices ran through the stone. When the shackles reached the extent of their give, I leaned onto my back, rested myself on my forearms, and laid down so my feet pointed away from the corner I had awoken in.

My legs were the only appendages I could use. Sweeping them out like a fan, my foot touched the corner diagonal to me. Making myself as straight as a ruler, I reached. My tippy toes skimmed against something hard, brittle, and circular. Spreading my toes as wide as possible, I tried grasping the object. It took me three times to successfully pull it towards me. I ran my hands over the object, trying to decipher what it was. The hole I had grabbed onto was larger than a quarter. Beside it was a triangular opening, and another circular gap was beside that. Above the circular openings was a wider expanse of what felt like smooth limestone that morphed into a sphere shape.

Horror dawned on me as I felt below the triangular opening to feel the remnants of teeth. I was holding the skeleton of someone’s head.

‘Where the fuck am I?’ I smashed the skull against the concrete cube.

I sagged against the corner