Chapter 18
There is no center to Hell. Wherever it was that they took Dina was unknown to him, but he felt that it was not the center, in the same way that if he were to slip his hands inside himself, however unfamiliar his gore might be to his fingers — he would know where the heart is.
His hand could take it, feel the thumps of his life.
But there was no such heart here, no pulses.
If Hell had a center, it wasn’t here, but if it wasn’t here, then it was nowhere.
He found himself kneeled over smoothed rock, terribly warm, in a rare space between all the extravagant carpets, nearly as red as the walls — of stone, as well.
Much of it was obscured by plain banners; if this were Earth, they might’ve carried an emblem of a king or nation but they had little more than simple embroidery at the corners.
There were many fires, joining the sea of red all around, but they were concentrated on the tops of tall torches lining the hall.
Satan’s throne, at the peak of a steep stairway much like that of the devil’s old home among the caves of the Earth, was ornate, golden, and there were great bones at its head, curling up so that anyone who sat on it might appear to have horns — but it was empty.
Lonesome, the other bone accents on the massive seat remained still, as did a cloth strung upon it like a diagonal sash on a torso.
Baal did move to stand before it, however — the throne of his king.
His shoulders were tensed, his hands were fists, and though his back was facing the captured angel, he soon turned his face to reveal a clenched jaw, glared red eyes, an angry curl to his upper lip.
“Who are you?” grunted the chief duke of Hell.
Dina stared up at him, instinctively wanted to place his hands before himself and fiddle his fingers but his wrists were locked together with bulky, rusted cuffs, listening to the shuffling of a demon behind him.
Earlier, the one in the hood had slipped away, murmuring something to Baal that the angel hadn’t heard.
This had occurred as Dina was dragged through a narrow passage in the cave he’d been pulled into, as they had stepped out into a great hollowing in the red rock that encased Hell.
Here, there had been a tower, though its likeness was not like most tall edifices of Heaven, nor any of the multi-story buildings of Earth.
Instead, it resembled an amphitheater, the walls composed of archway after archway, so reminiscent of the great arena where innocent angels brawled before Satan’s corruption, except far too tall and thin.
When Dina had come upon it, his face had tilted up and up and up, trying to take in the impossibly towering structure of Hell at its faux center.
“Answer me,” Baal grunted, twisting his body, stepping toward the angel. In one hand, he still held the mace with its starred sphere on a chain, still dripping heavenly blood.
Dina was still wounded, of course, red soaked down the torn front of his hoodie, soaking the company name printed there.
He couldn’t help but oddly pity it, the company name, though it was his own chest torn open and pulsing in pain.
Like a heart — the pulsing. “Dina…” he answered slowly, warily, tongue still tasting the metallic tang of his bleeding.
“That is… who I am.” As they’d walked Dina down the steps toward the devil’s tower, he’d realized there were other buildings in the vicinity — stouter and some of wood, some of rock, some of mud.
The demons he saw — a few with animal heads, many with animal limbs, most with horns and tails, nearly all angelic beauty lost — were cleaning stone pathways and scraping off their walls clumps of red-pink like flesh. ‘It even breathed, like flesh.’
“Dina,” echoed Baal, took a second to glance at the demon behind the angel, then returned his attention to Dina.
“What are you doing here?” His tone was stiff, even irritated, but he didn’t raise it.
“Did your God send you here? Or was it your chief prince?” Slowly, his hands began to work coiling the chain around his palm, the sphere coming to be held carefully by his claws.
“I know that you little angels can’t lie, but if you spare any details it’ll be your head you lose next. ”
Imagining the sight of his body, twitching and decapitated, Dina swallowed and felt his body shudder.
“I—” ‘Where is my star?’ What should he say?
“I’m not here on Michael’s orders, and I’m not here on the Lord’s either.
” Baal, slowly, growled. “It’s true!” Dina added hastily, turning back up, struggling against the cuffs of his hands because he so terribly wanted to interlock his fingers before his face and beg.
“I’m not here for anyone except myself.”
“Then what the fuck do you want?”
Dina, frantic, tried to think of something, some half-truth, something his star would guide him to say.
Instead, he blurted the truth: “Where are the Watchers?” Baal’s eyes, instantly, widened.
“I’m looking for my friends— Azazel. Armoni.
They left Heaven to help the humans. Many things happened.
I cannot tell you what — but I know that there was a Flood.
The Father commanded me to see the Earth and tell the man Noah that the end would come and that he should build an ark, but I never understood what happened.
I was told the Watchers corrupted themselves with women and there were giants, but I never understood.
I never—” He was not only being honest to the demon now; Dina was confessing a secret to himself.
“I never believed it because I didn’t understand.
It didn’t sound like something my friends would do.
Believe me that this is why I am here in Hell.
I didn’t mean to come to Hell. I was only searching for my friends—”
“Okay, shut your mouth,” Baal interjected, brow twitching.
“I don’t give a shit about what you think about your stupid friends.
” But then, he inched away and laughed, bitterly, meanly.
“But the Watchers? The whore angels? It’s been thousands of years, and you’ve come down looking for them now? Who are you?”
“I told you,” Dina whispered, his chest stinging, his face grimacing. “My name is Dina.”
“I heard you the first time, idiot,” Baal snapped. “But who are you? I don’t remember you from Heaven.” He snorted. “Are you an angel of stupidity? Are you an angel of any importance? I doubt that your God has appointed a new archangel.”
“No, no, I’m not an archangel,” Dina answered softly.
“And I’m an angel of... nothing.” Angel of nothing at all.
“Angels do not need purposes anymore.” Uriel had once told him that.
‘I miss Uriel. Without him or my star, I have no one to tell me what to say or what to feel.’ When Baal raised an eyebrow, Dina tilted his head and explained, “Because us angels have no other purpose than to prepare Heaven for humans. This is how it has been for many centuries now.”
The demon behind Dina laughed, almost like a bark. “What? Prepare Heaven for humanity? What does He intend for you angels? Is He going to cast you down or are you all to be slaves?” Dina struggled with that word but understood it well enough to frown.
Baal answered: “Satan told me of this.” He lifted his arms and crossed them over his chest. “He told me that God has abandoned His host, that the angels are like shit to Him. God only cares about humans now. It has been this way since Christ.” At that, Dina nearly tilted his head.
Was that true? He knew little of Christ but he could remember that this had all begun following the Flood.
‘Michael tied at the center of Heaven, burning.’ “But it doesn’t matter.
What God thinks of His angels is no problem of our own.
If He wants to burn them, then we should let them burn for their cowardice at the beginning of time.
” The Fall. Had that been the beginning of time?
Dina wanted to swallow and say there had been a time before then.
There had been angels before Satan, and there had been angels before man.
And, surely, there would be angels after man, wouldn’t there?
Suddenly, Baal’s foot drew back, swung, and struck the kneeled angel hard against the jaw, sending him thudding against the ground with a sharp cry.
“The affairs of angels,” he began before setting his sandal down over the side of Dina’s head, pressing down uncomfortably, enough to ache the area by Dina’s eyes, “is of no importance to us.” Gritting his teeth, Dina shut his eyes but they nearly opened them again instantly when he impulsively tried to move his hands again and, oddly, he felt them inch apart.
“If you want to see the Watchers, then you can see them from where you’ll be chained up with them. ”
Dina’s fingers wandered, touched a finger tip against the bolt that was supposed to be screwed into place only to feel it wobble and slightly twist. Heart quickening, breath catching — he could give it a few more twists and pull the cuffs apart.
But no, he shouldn’t. ‘He will notice. He will hurt me.’ And would it be so bad to be imprisoned beside old friends?
“Are you sure?” called the demon behind, stepping over the angel’s sprawled legs and chuckling. “Shouldn’t you wait for Satan to call that order?”
Dina felt Baal’s foot tense before he heard the duke grumble, “Are you questioning the regent of Hell?”
“I am,” replied the demon slyly. “I can do that, can’t I? You’re no devil.”
“How many times must I fucking say it?” Immediately, Baal removed himself from over Dina, turned around, grappled the demon by the throat and snarled. “He has given me the authority to command and rule Hell while he is absent.”