That fucking girl went and died right in front of us, and this thing is still alive?
No.
“No,” Jude grinds out through the clenched teeth, his jaw wobbling as he staggers from side to side, trying to get his balance. “Fuck no!” he screams to the shaking ashes. “She doesn’t die and you live! That’s not how this goes! FUCK NO!” he shouts, his entire body vibrating with the same fury that’s shaking mine.
Gage slams his sword into the ground, wiping his eyes with one hand, as his own jaw grinds into an angry clench. Kai’s eyes turn to solid black slits as he blinks from side to side instead of up and down, with a set of eyelids he didn’t have before.
I cut my gaze to the ashes that are being sucked in, slowly forming that shadow again.
“Fuck no,” I agree in a quiet, seething tone.
A streak of black light blinds us in a different way, cutting out all the light and submerging the world in utter darkness, as the world rattles with the sound of stampeding hooves that echo all around, the ground steadily vibrating louder and louder.
The pain cuts through me so fiercely I swear I’ve found the mercy of death, as my body goes weightless once more.
And for a liberating moment, I’m certain I’m dead.
Until something nudges me, a warm breath snorting against my head.
I open my eyes, blinking against the gray light, uncertain how long my aching body has been lying on the ground. My gaze lands on my forgotten horse, who stomps the ground beside me like he’s trying to get me on my feet.
Pushing its head away, I look around and find my three best friends staring blankly ahead at the charred remnants of a battle that seemed to have happened ages ago instead of moments.
Gage cuts his eyes to me, as Rafael appears before us. I can barely breathe as I await a miracle, expecting him to tell us Paca was blown to China and is digging her way back to us as we speak.
“My balance has been purified enough for me to actually find compassion, even for the four of you, in a moment like this,” the archangel says like we give any fucks at all what he has to say.
My hand grips my staff, and I force myself up to my feet, limply swinging it at him.
He easily dodges me, as my weak legs collapse out from under me, and I crash against the ground. The air is knocked out of my lungs, and pain shoots through me from all the many things broken or battered.
“So I’ve come to tell you about a conversation I had with Paca, where she told me the weapon won’t cease to exist, only the memories that made her that version of her will be gone. According to her very reasonable theories. And to tell you that memories aren’t what made her. It was all of you,” he says, clearing his throat as if he finds this terribly uncomfortable. “She clearly didn’t trust me to raise that cage and let you finish the job she somehow knew she couldn’t. I guess in either life, she was ensuring you got to have that final kill shot to sate your need for wrath.”
Gage makes a strangled sound and lunges at the angel, trying to stab him, but crashes with the same grace as I did, because everything hurts. Nothing is working, and we just need one shot to put this motherfucker down.
My chin wobbles, and Rafael looks away, his own jaw tensing.
“I’m sorry to see you in this state when my compassion runs so high, because I feel compelled to tell you that she believes she’ll return. To wait for her, and to let her love you when she comes back. To survive and thrive in her absence, and to be more grateful boyfriends who bring her roses and such,” he says.
Jude smothers a choked cry, as he covers his eyes with both of his arms, lying flat on his back, as his body shakes with silent sobs.
Gage buries his face in his arms, belly-down, as I fight really damn hard against the dam trying to explode free and release a lot of painful pressure in my chest. As my breaths get shallower and shallower, Rafael’s lips tense.
“You won a battle no one thought you could win, but as with all things, there’s always a price to be paid. You only lost one piece of her. So long as you live, so will her memories. So long as you exist, she will return. So long as you’re alive, she’ll come back to you. That much I believe with every fiber in me. I may not understand it, but The Apocalypse does know how to love hard enough to defy the natural order and make her own rules up as she goes, just so she can have her twisted happily-ever-after in Hell for all eternity with her horsemen. She’ll never feel like she’s had enough time to love you. She’ll give up anything at all…except the four of you.”
He turns but pauses.
“If you don’t survive this, she’ll have to wait even longer to try and return, and who’s to say that she can even do all of that again. Make it easy on her, and don’t go doing something stupid that puts you down.”
He vanishes from sight, not saying anything else, as we continue staring ahead at the remains of a battle the world will never know was fought. Hell won’t be told much about it. Upstairs won’t bring up the fact it was such a lowly being who had to step in. Topside will never have a clue a day has changed.
She did all this knowing as much.
She only died to keep us alive.
“She better fucking come back,” Kai says on a hushed, serious whisper. “She better fucking come back,” he says again before his voice breaks.
I hobble to my feet and siphon away.
She better fucking come back.
Epilogue: Part I
GHOST GIRL
Oh, Two is taking his time today. The others are going to be so mad.
The little wiseass grin flirting with his lips lets me know he’s doing this on purpose, taking longer than the usual ten minutes they’re allowed.
Rather unique guys, these four. Their rules and boundaries seem so bizarre and confusing sometimes.
I’m not really sure who they are, but I do know we’re quite literally in Hell, so they’re definitely not good guys. In fact, they seem to be high up on the pecking order.
Definitely, definitely not the good guys.
My eyes move over the other three as they clean themselves up, rolling their eyes at Two. I used to give them privacy for these very…odd moments between them. They make it a point not to look at each other, stay quiet, and hurry along their…self-pleasuring under the ten minute period.
When I’m a real girl, I’m not going to waste my time on masturbation. I’m going to teach these guys the fun you can have when you add a woman to the party. A small little evil laugh echoes in my head, and I rub my hands together with wicked glee, just thinking of all the dirty scenarios I could find myself in with them.
Hmmmm…maybe I’m part of Hell too.
Back to the point: I’m under the impression they have to be together to make this happen. Which is insanely intriguing, if I’m being honest.
What would happen if they had a girl all at once? Since they don’t seem to favor men sexually, it’s clearly a fair question. I mean, they like each other enough to whack off in the same place, but not enough to help each other out with the task, if you know what I mean.
They tend to ignore women as a general rule, but I’ve spent the past three out of five-and-half years perfecting the speech I’ll use to tempt them into considering my proposal.
I’m a bit shameless that way, it seems.
Two is finally making that guttural sound between clenched teeth, and I watch him, unabashedly moving my hand over his as he finishes. It makes it feel like I’ve helped.
I’ve done a lot of questionable things like this over the years. It’s not like they know it, and you have fewer morals when no one can hear, see, feel, touch, or taste you.
I also learned their names after I could finally hear, but I usually call them by their numbers like someone would a pet name.
Two—Kai—stands, and the other three of them flip him off.
Kai’s my favorite. He’s the one who drives the others the most insane. I think we’d get along. Not to mention, he’s so damn pretty to look at.
Obviously, I want all four, though.
Next I’d have Jude—One. Mostly because he looks like he wants to fuck something really hard when he’s concentrating on relieving his baser urges.
Then I’d have Three—Ezekiel. He has this really intense mouth when he’s on the crest. It’s indescribably sexy and tempting. I want to be the one who causes that expression.
I’m surprised their hands don’t have callouses. They do this twice a week.
I follow out Gage—Four. My least favorite. He’s always the first one finished, and actually falls asleep sometimes while waiting on the others. It’s just ten damn minutes.
When I’m finally a real girl, I certainly don’t want the fun to end after a few quick strokes. Especially not after the way I’ve built it up in my head.
These virgins are going to have their work cut out for them.
At least I assume they’re virgins. I’ve been watching them all this time and haven’t seen them actually have sex with anything but their individual hands.
“Is this Hell’s version of group therapy?” I ask them.
They don’t answer, of course. Sucks they can’t hear or see me. It’s rather frustrating, if I’m being honest.
“You’re a dick,” Gage says to Kai as they head toward their individual rooms.
“Someone has to balance out your quick-draw tendencies,” Kai fires back, eyebrows bouncing.
They grow immediately quiet and pause at one of the paintings in the hallway.
They pause here a lot.
I wonder sometimes if the girl in this image took their virginity. She’s quite the ho, if you ask me, considering she’s in a lot of other paintings with four very different fellows.
I worry they’re really hung up on her, since they stop here four or five times a day. It’s another reason I’ve worked damn hard to perfect that speech of mine.
It’s epic, if I do say so myself.
Sighing with annoyance, I stare at the image with them, trying to suss out what was so special about her. My cheekbones are so much better than hers. I think my boobs are just a bit smaller, but they also look perkier than that girl’s.
Our lone physical similarity is that we both have blonde hair.
The bitch does have an ass I envy, though. I hate her a little for it. Mine is okay. Nothing special. Unless she’s sitting in these paintings, she always finds a way to give a peek of that ass.
Terribly vain.
This one is her running away from them, eyes stern as she looks over her shoulder like she’s decided to leave them behind, while they stand brokenly on the edge of the painting.
In the background, there’s a blob. There’s really no other eloquent way to describe it, and I have no idea what the purpose of it is.
It doesn’t have a plaque like all the others. I think her name is Paca, since I’ve heard them whisper it to these paintings on occasion. The plaques all have something about the apocalypse, but that makes no sense at all to me.
Jude clears his throat, their moods visibly soured. That’s another reason I don’t know why they continue to walk through this hall and stare at these paintings, when it clearly hurts them so much.