The Department of Hate - A Love Story (3 page)

Chapter 3 – Inferno

Jarrod stared at the stranger. There was something oddly familiar about him. He thought about it for a few moments.

“Who did you call me?”
  The stranger stared back at him, amused.

“Beelzebub, my Lord
.” Jarrod responded sharply

“And how is that possible?”
The stranger was not put off by his scepticism and continued patiently

“You incarnated as a human my Lord. All of the senior demons do it. This was your ninth incarnation.”
  Jarrod was not at all amused.

“You must be joking
.” But the stranger replied

“No, my Lord
.” Jarrod could tell he was being quite sincere. But he could hardly let such an extraordinary claim go unchallenged.

“Why don’t I remember?”
The stranger continued, still carefully, patiently

“Don’t be concerned my Lord. Sometimes it takes a while, but you are who you are. You’ll remember before long.”
Jarrod wasn’t particularly happy with this. He needed to know more. He asked

“So, who are you?”
The stranger replied

“Your assistant my Lord, Abaddon. I’ve been running the department in your absence. Busy time it’s been too, my Lord.”
Jarrod asked him

“And which Department is that?”
Abaddon replied

“Your d
epartment, my Lord, the Department of Hate.” Jarrod looked quite astonished.

“Department of Hate?”
Abaddon explained

“Yes my Lord, there are seven departments in Hell each one of them run by one of the major Lords: Pride, Envy, Hate, Greed, Sloth, Gluttony, Lust.”
Jarrod was listening carefully

“Oh I see, the seven deadly sins – but the third one should be Anger or Wrath not Hate.”
  Abaddon replied to this quickly

“Yes my Lord, but you renamed your department several centuries ago – and changed our mission statement. You decided that Hate was the real quality we wanted to focus on whereas Anger was just one of its precursors.”
Jarrod was surprised by that. He replied uncertainly

“I did, did I?”
It seemed vaguely familiar.

He didn’t know what to say to any of this. He turned to Cassandra who had been listening carefully.

“What do you think?”
Cassandra was still trying to take it all in. She seemed lost in thought. She shook her head, replying only with

“I don’t know.”
Abaddon spoke out loudly, almost fiercely

“I’ll call for a guard my Lord, to take away the female”
But Jarrod looked back at him even more fiercely

“No. She stays with me. She is not to be harmed.”
Abaddon nodded his head

“Of course, my Lord.
” Cassandra finally seemed to have come to some conclusion. Looking at Jarrod she blurted out

“So, we’re dead and you’re Satan?”
It sounded ridiculous – and yet here they were. Jarrod smiled and shook his head slowly

“No, he says I’m just Beelzebub, second in the hierarchy, Lucifer is Satan.”
Cassandra replied with a smile

“Well that’s ok then.”
  It still all seemed absurd though. They were still in the park, in the deserted city – well, not quite deserted – standing, talking. Jarrod was thinking that maybe this was some kind of trick. It was best to play along, find out more. And yet, he didn’t really think it was. There was something awfully familiar about Abaddon. He turned back to face him

“So where’s Lucifer then?”
Abaddon couldn’t even hear that name without flinching. He replied carefully

“He hasn’t been seen in a long time my Lord. He’s been waiting for your return though, we all have. You’re a year later than expected. I’m sure someone has already told him you’re back.”
Jarrod listened to all of this carefully. He had no idea what Abaddon meant by ‘a year later’, but clearly being ‘back’ meant being dead. He was in an increasingly strange mood. Looking for more answers he said

“We had a little trouble on the train.”
Abaddon actually smiled at this. He smirked

“Ah yes, the terrorist bombing. Seven hundred killed. Things are heating up. Wont be long now, my Lord.”
  Jarrod decided not to ask what wouldn’t be long. He looked straight at him and asked instead

“So we were killed? We are dead then?”
Abaddon seemed surprised by the question

“
Well of course, my Lord.”

Jarrod ignored Abaddon and moved closer to Cassandra. She’d been standing there listening, but not looking very happy. He reassured her

“Stick close to me. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She seemed uncertain. She spoke quietly

“You appear
to be taking all of this in pretty easily.” Jarrod looked back at her.

“Well, it’s hard to believe. I know who I am. But let’s just play along. If this is Hell its better to be one of the demons, that
’s one thing we can be sure of.” But Cassandra shook her head, exclaiming

“I wouldn’t be too sure
about that. And what about me?” Jarrod replied earnestly.

“I will protect you.”
He had no doubt that he could. His feelings for her were even stronger than before. He felt certain that their arrival together was no accident – that their destinies were interwoven in some remarkable way.

Abaddon motioned for them to follow him and set off quickly. They walked through a series of gloomy streets making their way towards what they could begin to make out to be a mighty wall in the distance. Strangely as they walked the city streets seemed to dissolve around them and then fade away completely. Before very long they found themselves in a desert some miles away from the outer walls of a different city. It seemed to be early in the morning. The sky was a harsh yellow in colour. There was no sun to be seen. But it was already fiercely hot and clearly was only going to get worse. Jarrod called out to Abaddon

"What's going on?"
Abaddon stopped and looked around before replying 

"We're now properly in Hell my Lord. These are the Plains of Desolation. The walls ahead are the outer walls of the city of Dis. When a group of the dead get taken
in special circumstances - as you were - they go through some kind of shared hallucination – some kind of projection. Details vary. This happened to all of you on the train. We were picking you up - that made it extraordinary enough to affect everyone. But in addition to that Asmodeous was there picking up two of the girls - and the priest of course. The rest got thrown into the pit. Usually the dead just fall straight into it.” Cassandra was starting to be annoyed by Abaddon’s casual arrogance. She glared at him and said

“Not everyone goes into the pit, surely
.” Abaddon seemed annoyed to be even addressed by her then he just shrugged, and with a cynical sneer replied

“Almost everyone."
Jarrod was not reassured by any of this. He was still puzzled. He asked

"So why is it suddenly morning?"
Abaddon was eager to proceed but of course he couldn’t defy the Lord Beelzebub. He forced himself to be patient

"The transition seems to always take a few hours my Lord and then there's the time zone change. We stay on Jerusalem time down here. Two hours ahead for you."
Jarrod was surprised by this, he could only say

"What?
”  Abaddon knew that the Master would find this amusing

"Yes my Lord, the holy city on Earth, the centre of the world from a theological point of view - kind of our opposite up there. So holy that all they can do through all of history is slaughter each other over who possesses it. So charmingly human
!" Again, he sneered at Cassandra, trying to provoke her. She stared back at him stoically. She had no intention of trying to defend the indefensible. Jarrod didn’t reply either but did give further thought to what Abaddon had said. It was all so perversely coherent. They continued trudging across the desert - covering the required several miles quite slowly - quickly growing weary in the blistering heat.

Soon they come up to a vast gate which loomed over them – it was open, but with a dozen guards at each side. Fearsome creatures, warrior demons, ten feet tall, with hatchet faces, eyes filled with hatred, battle axes held high and ready.  But all of the guards quickly stood to attention as their party approached and remained that way as they proceeded through. Jarrod asked Abaddon

“What ar
e the walls and the guards for?”  Abaddon replied

“The Plains of Desolation are inhabited by the souls of the insane. They go there rather than into the Pit. There are vast hordes of them. From time to time they get motivated by some crazy idea or other and attack en masse. Usually we beat them off very easily. Sometimes though there are so many, well, it gets a bit tight.”
He paused, not sure whether to include the next part. But then decided he should.

“On the edge of the Plains of Desolation there are the ancient Gods – all of the other Gods, defeated by Yahweh. Sometimes they attack too. That is always hard.”
He sighed. Lately the Norse Gods had been attacking almost nightly and he was so sick of it. Jarrod didn’t reply. He was so fascinated by all of this that for a moment he almost forgot where they were.

They passed through the gate without incident and suddenly found themselves looking out over Hell’s inner city of Dis. Jarrod's face was blank. Cassandra let out a small gasp

“Oh my ...”

There were looking down from the outer sl
opes over a valley six or seven miles wide. In the middle of the valley there was a vast circular pit, and around it a series of buildings. There were eight very large buildings arranged around the central pit. They shared a plain and simple architecture - squat and bureaucratic, grey and ugly, almost normal in appearance but somehow unimaginably vile - places that should never be. Abominations! Jarrod instinctively knew there was no limit to the horrors that took place within them. Further out there were a very large number of smaller buildings, clearly barracks, enough for thousands of troops, millions even. They could see demons moving about  - though not too many. But all of this paled into insignificance compared to the pit itself. Falling into it from the yellow sky above there was a vast and never ending stream of lost and failed souls. The damned! They poured down into the pit - their collective and never ending scream of anguish echoing out over the valley. Clearly this continued without end, day and night, never diminishing.  Cassandra eyes filled with tears. Jarrod held her hand, consoling her

“It will be all right”
But they were empty words. He felt it too. It wasn’t all right. It was the end of all things.  It surely was true that to enter here was to abandon all hope.

Abaddon couldn’t see what the fuss was about. He was eager to move on, though of course not at all eager to offend his Lord and Master. A vengeful Master who when he reverted to his true self would remember everything and forgive nothing. This was inevitable and would happen soon. 

“I will take you to your quarters my Lord
.” Jarrod nodded. They proceeded down into the valley, reached some outer pathways and continued towards the inner ring of the eight large grey buildings.  As they got closer they passed a few demons on the path. They were all seven feet tall, solidly built and of fierce demeanour. Though Jarrod was still in human form they clearly recognised him and were fearful and deferential. Some of the demons were leading one or more naked human females on chain leashes. The young women seem traumatised – lost, eyes downcast. Jarrod pointed them out and asked Abaddon about them. Abaddon smirked.

“Well my Lord, we keep a few of them - for a while
.” Jarrod stared back at him - taking in the implications. He exclaimed cynically

“Of course you do“
then after a brief pause, he asserted fiercely “no one touches Cassandra! “ Abaddon replied patiently

“Yes, of course, my Lord.”
Jarrod held her hand more tightly. Once again he reassured her.

“It’s going to be all right
.“ She looked around glumly

“I don’t see how.”
  Abaddon watched the interaction, trying to conceal his distaste. How could the Master be so taken in by such odious and obvious sentimentality? She was cute though. When the Master tired of her and discarded her then he would get the chance to have some fun. She would look good nude and leashed, he would enjoy breaking her and when he was done with her – the pit. He would cast her into it personally. He stole a few glances at her. She saw him looking and clearly understood his intentions. She seemed to react with something like disgust. Abaddon looked back at her, thinking to himself

‘Ah, you will pay for that, so dearly’
. Cassandra was not afraid of him at all. She asked him another question, knowing it would annoy him