Caged by Damnation (27 page)

I screamed in absolute anger. In response, the door blasted open, spraying debris throughout the hall. My fingers tingled and sparked, sending a current of power to my core. I shook while electricity took the shape of rose vines and climbed across my hands and up my arms. Finally, the visible power stretched around my neck, branching towards other links of power and creating a web.

Encompassed in unadulterated power, I became a weapon. I walked from my friends towards the fire, knowing I was a puppet no longer. A typhoon radiated in a crescent shape before me, incinerating the enemies in my path. 

CHAPTER 19

WILLOW

I followed Death into the library, where he revealed another secret room. I was beginning to think that everyone had them, and wondered if I had a secret chamber of my own. The bookcase slid aside, displaying a small room lined with cabinets. The center one didn't appear to have an opening until Death pricked his finger with the blade from his pocket. He dripped some of his blood onto the textured wood and recited something in language I didn't understand.

A slab of wood slid outward, creating a miniature table, while the cabinet opened to reveal various vials and objects. Death pulled a few of the items from the cabinet, placed them on the table, and poured them into a flask.

"My tears, saliva, blood, and lastly..." He held up the remaining container; a glowing orb. He smashed it and caught the light in his palm."An extremely powerful, lethal soul."

In his palm, the soul appeared a morning yellow, but when he mixed it with the other ingredients, the potion turned a hazardous black. He looked at me, daring me to turn back. "Are you sure?"

Swallowing heavily, I watched as his eyes softened. It was obvious that he didn't want me to do this, as he grasped a small marble box that I hadn't noticed before. I remained steadfast in my convictions, even as he revealed its contents; a still-beating heart. I couldn't help but gag.

"What is that?" I abhorred what I was about to do, but weighing it against the lives of those who were counting on me... I needed to.

"It's the heart of the very first Hellhound;
your ancestor
. She was the only one gifted with the ability to restore life. As the original, she was the true alpha of my Hellhounds, but as time wore on, she grew sick of this world. She begged for her death and I granted her wish."

"Why?"

"She had earned her rest. I couldn't refuse her. It would have been cruel to force her to continue this existence, when her heart wasn't in it... no pun intended."

"It's still beating. Do you... you don't expect me to eat that, do you?"

"Not exactly." Death winced. "You need to consume her essence. It's unsavory, but there isn't another way. I'm sorry."

"I think I might be sick." I choked back vomit, as the idea of what I was about to do settled in my gut. "How do I do this exactly?"

Death grasped the heart in his palm with a saddened look and squeezed it above the potion. A stream of clear liquid was relinquished from his palm. The heart disappeared, as his fist tightened. Her essence purified the potion, eliminating the black and turning it a creamy milk shade. Then, he left me alone with my bizarre shortcut to power. He made sure to tell me that I didn't need to do this, but it barely registered among the millions of thoughts suffocating me.

This was the only route to protect everyone. I couldn't stand to be useless. Forty or so minutes went by before I managed to down the liquid. Sliding down my parched throat, every reflex screamed for me to reject it, but I allowed the icy essence to make its way through my core.

At some point between forcing myself to drink the vile substance and the pains began, I moved back to my favorite spot on the common room sofa. Agony shot through my skull and abdomen. I rested my head on the furniture's arm and cried out.

Death appeared. "Ah, hell, I didn't really think you would do it." He helped me into my room and laid me on the bed, positioning Nyx to curl against my chest.

"You... underestimated... my love for... my friends." I spoke between contractions. Suddenly, the true agony hit, like a current through my body. I arched by back, trying to relieve the buildup of sheer pain, but it had little effect.

For hours I endured the frostbite, as it traveled through the structure of my veins, encompassing my whole, ruthless in its hold. I begged Death to end my misery, but he refused, even when the cold turned to hot lava flowing through the circuits of my brain.

My bones felt like they were grinding against my organs, my brain swelling until I was sure it would explode, and my spine felt as if someone were breaking it repeatedly over their knee. This was Hell.

It was ironic that Death remained at my bedside, since he wasn't delivering me to the afterlife. Instead, he became my caregiver; nursing my forehead with cool rags, tucking the comforter around me when I pushed it off during my spasms, and forcing me to rehydrate. He didn't speak or demand my attention, but smoothed my hair away from my face.

"Please," I croaked. Pleading for an end; even a final one seemed acceptable.

"No."
Though he said the word gently, it held power, captivating the agony that had induced my mind. "You
will
get through this and help your friends. I won't be the one who prevents you from doing so.
Do not ask again
."

I began to endure, allowing the pain to become one with me, much in the way I was meant to accept the Hellhound.

With a sigh, I sank into a deep sleep filled with continuous dreams. They seemed to take place throughout time in all corners of the world. The constant among them was the conviction to punish the wicked, avenge the innocent, and find a measure of peace.

I could feel my real body shivering with fever, Nyx crawling about me, and Death's occasional presence. I felt
certain that days had passed as I lay there comatose, caught in a web of dreams that felt more like memories...

I descended into an unfathomable darkness, struggling and embracing the pit of absolution before being thrust into a blinding light.

I was no longer myself, swimming amongst a sea of cries; begging for judgment, mercy, and renewal. They joined as mobs, collectively attacking my many forms, while simultaneously rejecting me for my chance at redemption. They each attempted a metaphysical handhold on my souls, attempting to gain the ultimate ride back to the living. I denied them such a luxury. I wasn't a vessel for them to use and discard. They hadn't been chosen, as I had been.

I centered on my unique chance at life, each of my many souls united, as they were torn from the abyss to be thrust into a world that they had almost forgotten. A scream rendered from my newly formed self, as I gathered the suspended life into my new lungs.

I barely had a chance to process the experience before I soared into a new one. Still, my thoughts were another's. As the first Hellhound, it was natural that I take my place as the leader. My sisters followed my lead, though there were enough of them to challenge me.

Death had made us each from the tainted souls of the dead, the more repugnant in previous lives, the stronger we were in this new one, and mine had been the worst of the lot. Sheer power was both a gift and a curse, giving me the ability to perform acts that others could only imagine, while leaving me a hot mess. I was lethal.

This was one of the moments when I was most dangerous. My sisters had grown lax, as the period between fits had lengthened, which was why it was so unexpected that I lost all control in the midst of a battle.

We stood in the light of the moon without having taken the shape of our hounds. We didn't need the beast when were gathered as a pack. At the center stood a family; mother, father, and two young children. They were being held by a particularly vile soul that had evaded judgment for longer than we thought possible. Capturing him required me to call the Wild Hunt, which was a rare tactic. Unfortunately, he had taken the opportunity to gather hostages.

"Let's take him," my sister, Tempest, demanded. We were the eldest of the pack. The younger of the two of us, she was more impulsive.

"We can't. He'll kill them."

Tempest groaned, as the rest of my sisters became uneasy. We often came to blows over decisions, though it was never a true argument. Tempest was simply more eager and had a tendency to push me.

"Sole, their lives are miniscule against the lives he'll kill if we let him get away."

The use of my true name drew a force within myself. It was as though she were using our bond; one stronger than any other to sway my decision. It wasn't rational and I sensed it, but the perception of being manipulated brought forth such force that my mind descended into the madness that I feared above all else.

Tempest's eyes widened and the others prickled, as they each became aware of the added danger in the clearing. The decrepit being we hunted backed away from me, releasing those he held captive, but my reins were loose and I couldn't draw them back.

"Sole, just breathe. Everything's okay, you just need to calm down," Tempest breathed, as Vixen came close to her mother. Her crimson hair blended with Tempest’s and they held their hands up, trying to convey submission, but it was lost on me. I blacked out then.

When I came to, I found the bodies of the innocents at my feet and anguished cries at my back. I turned, ready to apologize, but was caught short as Echo pushed me away from the sight.

Vixen was bent at the waist, holding her mother, begging time to be reversed. Then her gaze caught mine. "Bring her back!" I looked at my oldest friend, closest sister and confidant. She was lost to me, having already crossed the veil.

"I can't. She's gone."

Vixen threw herself at me, determined that I join her mother. "This is your fault! You did this, now take...it...back!" She fell to the ground before me. The fight in her was no longer present and I watched as bloodstained tears fell to join the blood of the innocents I had been determined to save.

I ran then; from myself and the condemnation of my sisters. I couldn't face what I was and knew then that the babe within me could never be mine.

I wanted to reach out to Sole, hold her and tell her that she was forgiven. Our connection gave me insight into her emotions and I knew she had never forgiven herself. This one act had determined all of the choices she made throughout the rest of her life.

The cry of a babe became my only focus, as my child was birthed into the world. The tiny sounds of innocence brought tears to my eyes, knowing that I not only needed to protect my only love  from myself, but the destiny laid out for it.

I had hid my pregnancy from the others, going into hiding until I was forced to call on Whisper to aid me. She of course brought Echo, which would have angered me, but I saw understanding in both their eyes.

The life of a Hellhound was a difficult one and children were few and far between. I couldn't condemn my daughter to such a life; to take lives for all eternity with only the sisterhood and guilt as companions. Death would never know of her existence, my sisters would see to that.

As she was pulled from my womb, Whisper placed her in my arms and I wailed, knowing this would be the one time I could hold her. I couldn't risk knowing where she would live out her life, as the temptation to be in her life would be too great.

The tiny hands reached for me, as I sang to her. It was the lullaby I had sung throughout my pregnancy and she calmed in recognition. Death had given me the gift to restore life, but it was nothing in comparison to the light weight against my breast. I hadn't thought that something so small could bring me to tears, but she had.

I broke inside when I handed her to Echo, making her and Whisper vow to never tell a soul about the secret life that had grown within me. I couldn't trust myself with her; that I wouldn't lose control and that she would truly live if she were with us.

As the first Hellhound, it was natural that I would be alpha, but the responsibility came with a curse. Unlike the others, I was prone to rages where I would black out. We learned to control them over time, but lately they became more frequent. They would rush over me; a deceptive and volatile event that was just as likely to kill an innocent, as an enemy. How could I condemn my daughter to that?

I knew that giving my child away would take my will to live, but as a mother... she came first. I wanted her to have a chance at life, fall in love, have her own children, and hopefully, never be forced to become a weapon. I hoped there would be many generations, each with happiness in their grasp, and it was something I could never give to her, no matter how much I wanted to.

Jolted from the vision, I realized that what I had witnessed, experienced... seen, was not my own memory, but someone else's. I didn't have long to dwell on the matter before I was thrust into a new one.

"Please." Falling to my knees, I stared Death down, willing him to understand my request. Tears shed from his eyes as he shook his head in denial. "I can't do this anymore. Haven't I given you enough? I've lived longer than any of the others, I'm tired. Let me rest, please." The last was said with agony, as I allowed my pain to show through.

Death's face crumpled and he sat back in his chair. Few saw him like this; more mortal than immortal. His expression was usually guarded, weary of showing emotion, but he had never hid from me. The Hellhounds were his family and as the first, I was the closest thing to a friend that he had.

Death's face turned from me. "You're asking me to kill you," he ground out through clenched teeth and a repulsed voice.

"No, I'm asking you to let me rest. Out of everyone, you should know how tiring and difficult this world is. I just want an end to the constant battles. I don't want to hurt anymore."