The Hellion Returns
Chapter Thirty-Six
Kahill
With every bit of fire in my impure soul, I burn—fighting off the pulsing power of the old god. The inferno surrounding me is the only thing keeping it at bay as our powers clash in this dance for dominance. Wave after wave, I resist, gaining ground only to lose it again as time drags on.
It’s already stretched past the limits of my patience, and my power is starting to wane.
Knowing who I’m contending with would help, but I was absent the day they taught about this shit in Heaven, not giving a single fuck for a history that had no place in the future. A future where I’d be free to wreak havoc across the surface as if it were my playground.
And I wasn’t about to spout that nonsense in my sleep like Tíarnach. It was useless—or so I’d thought.
Now I have no idea what this god is capable of… or whether his power rivals mine.
It’s not a risk I’m willing to take.
Sure, Sisyphus. Keep pushing that fucking boulder that hasn’t moved so much as an inch.
Shut. The. Fuck. Up, Lazreth. Let me focus.
That god’s not going anywhere, no matter how much effort you exert.
My jaw tightens as I brace against another surge.
“Yes. He. Is.”
There’s a way out of this. You’re just too much of a pussy to take it. Better the Devil’s power, you know, right?
“Fuck you. Don’t talk to me. You’re the reason we’re in this mess to begin with.”
At least I know when I’m fighting a losing battle.
“Does this look like it’s fucking easy to you?” I can barely hold him off.
No. It sounds like a you problem.
“If I die, you die, asshole.”
Then I suggest you get us both out of here. Alive, preferably.
“How about you get out here and help in a way that’s bloody useful?”
Either kick his ass or retreat. It’s that simple.
“What the fuck does it look like I’m doing—weaving a godsdamn sweater?”
Wasting both our time. Just take the fucking gate.
“No.”
Fine. Then I’ll just sit back and enjoy watching him make you his bitch. Because that’s what he’s doing—playing with you. Testing you. You’re just too fucking dumb to see it.
Lazreth thankfully falls silent and sinks further back into my psyche. Whether to let me focus or out of sheer frustration, I don’t know—and I don’t care. As long as he’s not at the helm, creating mass destruction or trying to kill my friends, I’ll take it.
He cares nothing for the contract between God and the Devil, or how it’s meant to be upheld. He’s reactionary. Vindictive. Dead set on making me suffer for the fact we share a body—despite the fact I’m not the one who cursed us to do so.
God forbid he focus his anger on our creator.
It’s not a fight he would win—but maybe he’d spend some of that energy on the immortal actually responsible instead of making my existence a living hell.
Here it comes again, Lazreth cuts in.
“Yes, thank you. I know.”
Another surge slams into me. I grit my teeth, bracing as I draw power from the crack splitting open behind me, dragging it in and feeding the fire. I give it everything I’ve got, doing my level best to incinerate his ass.
The heat and steam from the hellgate fuel me—but there’s a cost.
With every pull, the fracture widens.
He’s dying out, though. I can feel it—weakening with every second. Just a little more from the hell below and he’s toast.
I’ll deal with the gate after this motherfucker is dead as a doornail.
Why are you so afraid to go back?
Tension locks through every muscle. I’m pinned—fighting to keep my footing from slipping into the opening behind me while holding steady against the assault in front. The earth won’t stop shifting. The crater keeps splitting wider at my back, and heat helps… but not enough.
“Afraid?” I scoff. “Afraid? I’m not fucking afraid.”
I’m not.
I just refuse to go back there.
Bullshit.
“And what you’re not? Stop fooling yourself. You hated it there just as much as I did.”
It might be the only way.
“No. He’s dying. I feel it.”
He’s fucking playing with you! He’s one of the ancients—his power far exceeds yours.
“Who the fuck is it? Do you know his name?”
A full-body revulsion coils through me, deeper than flesh.
Wolf, Lazreth answers. I sense a wolf. Wepwawet… or Fenrir. And I’m telling you, you’re not winning this. I can feel him. His thoughts. The ego on this bastard—he’s already certain we’ll both be dead in the next two minutes.
“Seriously, you’re not fucking around?”
I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?
I pull then—from the deepest, raging depths of my fire, from Lazreth too—and I ignite.
The god’s power withdraws, then slams back twice as hard.
See? Told you so.
“Shut the fuck up.”
I don’t just draw from the power at my back anymore. I take it. All of it. Drag it into me, twist at the waist, and roar as I thrust my hands forward as far as they’ll go.
“Fuuuuckingggg. Diiiiieeee. You ancient piece of shit!”
That’s it. That’s it. You’ve shaken his certainty. He’s losing ground. Melt his fucking divine ass. Light him the fuck up.
“Ahhhhhh! Take that, you pitiful, blinking light bulb, glow-pony show-off motherfucker!”
You’ve got him. He’s dying.
The earth shifts.
My footing gives.
The ledge beneath my boot shears away, and I lose it—lose focus as my balance goes and the pull takes hold.
“Fuck! Fuck!”
Kahill!
And down I fucking go. Because the crack is a gaping wound now, and Hell itself has opened up to allow me easy entry and is seconds from swallowing me fucking whole.
Do you think we’ll get a warm welcome? Lazreth laughs as if he finds this entire thing amusing.
Fuck no.
I scramble for a handhold, a ledge—anything—because home may be calling my name, but if given the choice, I’ll call it a wrong damn number and hang the fuck up.
No fucking thanks.
The god’s amusement.
I can’t hear it, but this time, it’s so profound I feel it.
I flip him the fucking bird as I release my wings and slow my free fall. I’m a rock, and there’s no space to fly, but it’s enough. Enough to fight gravity if only a little.
Before I drop through the massive opening, I catch myself on a small outcropping of stone, fingers digging into searing rock.
For a second—just a second—I hold.
But the god isn’t done with me yet. His power surges again, and I can’t fight like this—can’t defend myself while clinging to the wall.
Golden light floods the crevice, pouring into every inch. It hits me like a fucking sledgehammer.
I’m ripped free—thrown full force through the gate. The burn is brief. Brutal, but brief. Gone the second I pass through to the other side.
And of course, I’m not above Lucifer’s high-rise, or the twisted tower his son claims as his own, or even the black, endless mountains of lost souls.
No.
I’m over the lava pits. Blistering. Boiling. Hot enough to melt wing, flesh, muscle, and bone. Closer than they look, or I’m falling faster than I realize.
Either way, I don’t have long.
My wings are wrecked. Shredded. Useless. They won’t catch. Won’t lift me out of the fall.
Not that I’m focused enough to try.
Creatures crawl across the jagged black rock. Others monkey-leap from the stalactites hanging overhead that descend from the top of Hell, and the wailing cries of the wretched souls that huddle in droves on the shores of the pit are deafening.
It slams into my mind all at once—a tidal wave of sound, of desperation. I clutch my head, roaring as it tears through me. The decimal level of absolute lunacy rockets through my mind, and there’s no shutting it down.
Above ground, there’s a valve I can shut off, but here, there’s not, and I can’t shut it out.
Lazreth’s voice joins that of countless others.
Fly, goddamn it! Kahill—use those wings and get us the fuck out of here!
“I’m trying—I’m trying—” The words fracture as my thoughts splinter. “Fuck, I can’t think—”
Too late.
My wings won’t extend, and below me, a lava bubble explodes. It splashes across wing jumps from feather to feather, racing to consume them all, and quickly trying to claim what’s left of me.
I spin—out of control—pinwheeling as if I’m a featherless chicken about to be cast into a furnace. The river surges up to meet me, and in no time, I fall like a stone into the hottest pit of Hell.