Hellfire

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A promise of revenge.
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Not my first story but my first submission. It is inspired by the Hellfire Caves located under the Chilternhills in Buckinhamshire. I hope it is enjoyable.

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Her cloak dragged behind her, open to the still air of the deep caves as she climbed from the small boat that one must ride to reach Hell. The walls all around her in the tunnel were made of chalk. It always was a wonder to her how men could carve such solid walls within such a fragile substance. She did not fear the suffocating pressure of being below ground as she traveled from the feast hall deeper into the half mile caves to the temple itself. She would have her treat, her bit of flesh, her drought of blood. And if she could not have that, she would have her revenge.

She was dressed only in a draping cloak made of thin silk. The hood was held to the end of her hair line by a thin clip, her face covered in a mask made of raven feathers. Her milky skin was covered in a thin layer of fragrant oil making her skin glisten a little. Her only source of light was a torch held by the man behind her as she wound her way deeper and deeper into the darkness. The power of the place began to dance along her skin and she smiled with painted red lips.

As she reached the end of the tunnel she stood within the temple. The glow of fire and the beat of drums was a perfect symphony to the opera of their moans. The floor literally swam in flesh. Limbs in languid movement and a bare breast peeking from the side of the masculine chest above it filled her vision and she smiled to herself.

She moved into the room and the hands found her before she even reached the blanket of flesh. They caressed her legs, teasing at promised pleasures and carnal delights. But they were nothing. Nothing compared to the power she came for. Their blood was too old, to laced with hardship and humanity. Yes, that was the taste. Humanity. The look of disgust at the thought of their blood was hidden by the black mask that showed nothing but lips and eyes.

She stepped through them with indifference, her feet moving purposefully through the parts of flesh, never putting her weight on anyone. Her eyes, however, were straight ahead. She was already lost to him and the thought no longer mattered. He held out his hand to her and pulled her down into the bodies.

The mockery of it all. A temple of flesh and sin built deep underground directly beneath the church above. The bodies around her those of the richest, the most powerful but all of them were pawns. Pawns to the man that now nuzzled her neck, scrapping the points of those two sharp teeth along her skin. He bit down and she was lost. She would not get her bit of flesh. But revenge was still a possibility.

When he pulled away and looked down at her his lips were crimson. His smile wicked.

"You did not think to come and take from me did you?" His voice was mocking yet comforting. "It is your blood that will fuel our ritual tonight."

The warm liquid flowing over her sides and hips was the first thing she felt before the air hit her insides, a wrenching feeling in her gut. She looked down to see the jagged blade in his hand with blood nearly to his elbow. Her eyes refused to see the mess of herself. The faces filled her vision as all around turned to watch the blood flow with looks of hunger and lust. A woman cried out and the moans spread through the room.

She smiled up at him and this brought a look of confusion from his marble exterior.

"And with that ritual there will be power. And that power will go with me unto death. I will pull your soul here when all is done and you will be mine. You will live in these shadows for all eternity."

He laughed at her promise and her vision swam. The world was fading in streams of white. Her immortal blood spilled on the floor to the orgy of sin in Hell. But she always kept her word; though she had to wait a very long time for his death to release his soul to her. It was her power that bound him there, making the shadows deeper with his dark soul. It was her revenge that left him no rest.

Even now, hundreds of years later, no flashlight can pierce the darkness fully and her promise can be heard whispered in the dark. The only light that can truly fill that darkness is the glow of a ghostly torch traveling into the deep temple beneath the church of Heaven.

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  • COMMENTS
1 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousover 16 years ago
The end is eternity

A moving mental glyph.

Closer to reality than man could hope, further from reality than man can comprehend, this short adventure might cause one to reflect.

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