Chương 43: Third Time's the Charm

I was back in my room, lying on my own bed. I stared at the bedroom door. Sure enough, a sinister red light was shining beneath the crack. It was my third time here. The first two had been because of near-death experiences. But this time, it was not near death. Now, I was dead. Really, very, truly dead. Yes, I was in Hell, and I was here to stay.

"I'm sorry if Your Highness objects to an early breakfast," I heard the Mimic-Many-Tongues call from behind my door, using Cinderella's perfectly sweet voice. I wasn't so scared this time. I knew where I was, and more or less what was going to be. Mostly, I was just sad.

"I'm coming in!" chirped the Many-Tongues, slowly pushing my door open with an agonizing creak. I didn't scramble backward. I stood in front of my bed, arms crossed, and waited. It was just a giant, blobby, tongue-like monstrosity wearing old rags. And if things were like last time, there was a house-sized demon waiting outside who wanted me to become his important servant.

The giant glistening tongue dragged its heavy bulk across the floorboards, wearing the same greasy, filthy dress and a smeared, red-painted smile. I stared at it. Then I laughed. Is this supposed to be Cinderella? By gosh, how could this silly creature have ever scared me?

"Come to me. I know you, and I love you." It spoke the exact same lines as last time.

"Oh, you don't know the first thing about me!" I huffed.

"Now go away! Shoo! Shoo!"

"I… I love… I…" it mumbled now, but nevertheless, it kept crawling my way. I took a brisk step toward the beast and delivered a hard kick right to its face—well, the wet, fleshy front part of it, anyway. It writhed and thrashed for a moment, then slithered back a few feet and went still.

"Come… I… Love…."

"Oh, stop all this nonsense!" I shouted at it.

"Cinderella is gone now! I died, you see, so I will never see her again!" I angrily brushed a small tear from the corner of my eye.

"Never! Ever!" But the Many-Tongues merely repeated, "Come… Come…" Oh, I didn't have time for this ridiculous creature. Ignoring the monster, I crossed to the window, threw it open, and dropped down to the hard grey ground below — it wasn't a difficult descent, and the drop was short. If I was to face the great demon Azearothiel again, I would at least preserve some small dignity by meeting him on level ground, rather than being plucked from a window like a ragdoll.

I walked around the corner of the rotting wooden cabin. There, exactly like last time, sat the house-sized demon. I gasped despite myself. This towering behemoth was one of those things it would take more than a single encounter to ever get used to. He spotted me, locked his piercing eyes on mine, and offered a wide, toothy grin.

"No screaming this time," Azearothiel noted, his voice a calm, resonant echo.

"I've screamed enough already," I said flatly.

"And little good it did for me."

"I didn't expect to see you again so soon," he rumbled. I sighed.

"Me neither. I guess I'm just not that proficient at staying alive." Which reminded me, "The Julian time-looper faction... they wanted me dead for some reason. So much, in fact, that they bribed the Emperor of France! Do you happen to know why? What is so incredibly special about me that they want me dead this badly?" Azearothiel just stared at me with those demonic eyes for a long, heavy moment.

"That is interesting," he finally said.

"I do not treat with the Julian faction. And so, I do not know. But, I may have a premonition."

"What? What do you mean?" I asked.

"Later," he dismissed.

"We will have an eternity to seek the answer. Right now—" This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. He stopped mid-sentence. His massive head snapped to the side, the relaxed confidence in his features turning into a wary scowl. At first I didn't understand what had changed. Then I felt it — the faintest stirring of air — and saw small white shapes drifting down around us from the sky. I squinted against the gloom, trying to bring the falling debris into focus. They were small bones.

knuckles, ribs, and teeth. showering down around us like macabre snowflakes.

"A disturbance," Azearothiel sighed heavily.

"Again." Then several of the bones flared with yellow light and burst with sharp pop sounds, each one dissolving into a plume of white smoke. Four clouds bloomed at once — three surrounding Azearothiel, and one directly above him. When the smoke cleared, figures stepped out of it. Humanoid shapes. The one above I recognized immediately: Malakarthor. A white knight with angel wings and long blond hair streaming from beneath a gleaming white helmet.

He was the high demon who had tried to claim me during my last visit, before Azearothiel had chased him off. I also remembered what James had told me about him. Even among the demons of Hell, Malakarthor was incredibly bad news. He reveled in torture, forcing his contracted servants to become sadists for his own twisted amusement. The other three figures around Azearothiel were a diverse trio.

One looked entirely human, dressed in simple white cloth; the second was a towering lizard-man complete with shimmering scales and a thick, sweeping tail; and the third was a walking skeleton wrapped in tattered black robes. Looking closely, I realized they each held a small, purple glass pyramid in their hands. In perfect unison, they immediately began to whisper a rhythmic incantation. Azearothiel responded by uttering a sequence of deeply resonant, booming vowels, and a thick, white mist spilled from his maw.

Oh, I knew what that was. His lightning magic was brewing. I immediately took several steps back to put some safe distance between us. Sure enough, a moment later — jagged, crackling bolts erupted from Azearothiel's raised hands. But something was wrong. The lightning never reached its targets. It halted abruptly, flattening against an unseen barrier. Looking closer, I could see a faint purple glow shimmering around Azearothiel. He was trapped inside a giant, glassy cage shaped like a pyramid.

Azearothiel spoke again, more forcefully this time, and another volley of lightning hammered against the purple glass, striking the barrier with blinding flashes of electricity, but the purple glass held firm. He glared up at Malakarthor, his monstrous face contorted with absolute anger and utter disgust.

"How much time?" Malakarthor called down to the skeletal figure in the black robes.

"Half an hour, at least," the skeleton answered in a shrill, icy rasp. Inside the prism, Azearothiel chanted a deep, resonant spell. A thick wisp of white mist escaped his lips, condensing in his palm into a pulsating orb of blue lightning. He hurled the sphere at one of the pyramid's glowing faces. Upon impact, the structure shuddered and let out a piercing shriek as thin, jagged cracks spread rapidly across the purple glass.

"Fifteen minutes," the skeleton revised drily, adjusting his bony grip on his small glass pyramid "Fifteen is more accurate." Malakarthor gave a curt nod, then slowly turned his helmeted head toward me.

"Hello, Drizella," he spoke. His voice was warm and measured, almost pleasant.

"As you can see, this time I came prepared."

"You…" I stammered, pointing an accusing finger.

"Did you… well, have something to do with… my death?"

"That hardly matters now," he said simply.

"You are of use to me. You will sign a contract and enter my service." Malakarthor drifted gracefully down to the ground. He stood perhaps thirty yards away and extended one gloved hand toward me.

"Come, Drizella. Let us depart for your new home."

"No!" I answered, instinctively taking a step back.

"I will not become your servant. So you can… bugger right off!" From behind the visor of his white helmet, Malakarthor made a sound that might have been a chuckle. In the background, Azearothiel unleashed another thunderous barrage of lightning, making the purple glass cage rattle fiercely.

"You have no hand in your own fate," said Malakarthor, his tone almost bored.

"In the game of high demons, you are nothing — an insect, a loose thread. You do not choose." I glared at the winged knight. What an absolute jerk, calling me an insect. There was absolutely no chance I was spending eternity in service to this particular bastard. But… I wasn't exactly overflowing with options. I highly doubted I could outrun a flying demon long enough to buy Azearothiel his fifteen minutes to break free. And truthfully?

I didn't exactly fancy the idea of being bound to the giant, creepy demon either. In fact, I didn't want to be anyone's servant. Not for eternity. Not for a day. Wasn't there a third option? Anything else I could do here? Well, I did have this one idea. And it was a spectacularly bad one. Turning on my heel, I sprinted with every ounce of speed I could muster back toward the rotting wooden cabin.

"There is really no point to this…" Malakarthor called out, sounding bored. But I was already at the cabin. I sprinted around to the far side, and there it was: a ragged, gaping hole in the ground, just beside the entrance. From its depths, the thick, fleshy tentacles of the Many-Tongues thrashed and flailed in the air. One of them still absurdly dressed as a mock Cinderella.

"That… No!" Malakarthor shouted, his calm demeanor shattering as he realized my intent. He launched himself into the air to intercept me, but he was too late. I threw myself off the edge of the pit and latched onto the flailing mass, wrapping my arms and legs around the nearest tentacle and squeezing as tightly as I could. It was hairy, slimy, and disgusting. I didn't care.

The moment I made contact, the Many-Tongues reacted — lurching downward into its lair, yanking me along at a shocking speed that turned the world into a blur. I clung to the thrashing appendage for dear life, burying my face against the grotesque flesh to keep from being thrown off. The light vanished instantly, plunging us into a massive, seemingly endless network of subterranean tunnels filled with sharp forks and rushing turns. I had absolutely no idea where I was going, or if I had just made a horrible mistake.

But as I plummeted deep into the darkness, I heard the faint, echoing sound of Malakarthor shouting an infuriated"Noooo!" from the surface. And despite everything, I smiled.