Tribulation r-2 Read online

  His reaction was an over exaggeration. Thankfully, there was nothing behind him.

  He was in a smallish chamber. Other than the staircase — which was now out of service — there was only one other exit: an opening in the rock indicated a passage. That was the source of the light. The flickering would indicate movement. A living creature was possibly moving within the passage, or maybe it was just a hellish breeze. Sam wasn’t prepared to take any chances.

  Cautiously, he crept towards the opening, making absolutely no sound whatsoever, and glanced around the corner. The corridor was empty and lit by fire burning in evenly-spaced sconces along the walls, each made out of a human skull.

  He passed a number of turns and openings. Where it was possible, he tried to keep going straight. Not that he knew where he was going. He had no idea and only the vaguest of notions about what he was going to do. It was just good to keep moving, just in case his mental and physical blocking techniques failed him. For all he knew, every demon in Hell might already be alerted to his presence, thanks to the attentions of the fire serpent.

  He trudged on. The tunnels he was in seemed to be deserted. He senses told him he was alone but he wasn’t about to take that for granted. For all he knew, the rock underground could easily disguise the presence of demons.

  He soon learnt that his demonic senses were working — just not all that well.

  He must have been walking for an hour when he heard it. The sound of misery. Human misery. The tunnel he was in stretched on for another forty odd feet in front of him before reaching a t-section. The noise was coming from that end and getting closer. It was only then that he detected their presence: humans, of course, and many of them — but not just humans. There were several demons with them, including at least a dozen Lemure and probably two or three horned demons. Thankfully no Astaroth or Hellhounds, but there were others he could sense — extremely powerful, and clearly quite different from the others.

  Just ahead on Sam’s left was an opening. He’d encountered a few of these alcoves during his walk, all as deserted as this one. He’d investigated them as he’d moved along. Some contained various grisly items that Sam could only surmise was torture equipment. Others contained skeletons and various other human remains. With each new discovery, Sam’s demeanor grew even more grim.

  He darted into the alcove — just in time. The column of humans and demons rounded the corner, shuffling, limping and stomping down the tunnel towards Sam. This alcove, thankfully, was completely empty. It was unlit — the only light coming from the diffuse illumination of one of the corridors wall sconces. Sam crouched near the entrance in almost complete darkness. He slowed his breathing like Hikari had shown him, feeling his heart rate slow as well. The figures passed by his hiding place, giving no indication that they had seen or sensed him. The humans went by first. Collectively, they were a miserable and wretched group, chained together by their necks, eyes downcast. They didn’t look undernourished, however. Either they had just arrived in Hell or they were being sustained in some fashion. Their clothes were in tatters, though, and the scorch marks and tears in their clothing were abundant. Many had scarlet smears all over their body, and Sam could see bloody claw marks on almost all of them. A few were sobbing uncontrollably but most were completely silent as if resigned to their fate. Clearly, they had suffered from their time in Hell.

  The last of the humans passed him. Then came the Lemure, jerking and gibbering as they lurched down the corridor, gleefully prodding the humans in front of them with their clawed hands. The horned demons came next, lumbering along on their massive limbs, almost rubbing the sides of the corridor with their sheer size. Their black, goat-like faces were impassive as they moved past Sam, clutching their huge stone mallets. But it was the last two figures that most interested Sam.

  At first glance, Sam thought they were human. They were, however, slightly larger than regular people, dressed in tight fitting black armor, with swords buckled on at the waist. One appeared to be male while the other was female. Their faces were blacker than the deepest night — a black that clearly was not earthly in nature. Sam couldn’t see their eyes, but something told him that those would be black, too. As they passed by Sam — almost close enough to reach out and touch — he realized that they weren’t human at all. Small, black, bat-like wings adorned their backs, and horns twice as large as his own jutted from their foreheads. They weren’t even half-breeds or Cambions like himself. To him, they smelt like fully fledged demons — just a type he hadn’t encountered before.

  His ancient tome of demonology mentioned creatures like this — much like Succubi, they were demons that could almost pass as humans, demons Satan often sent to Earth to complete his bidding. They must be high-ranking, Sam figured. There was definitely a pecking order in Hell. Surely Satan couldn’t control his legions all by himself. He must have an officer class that Satan could use to dominate the others. Even Samyaza had mentioned that there were other Princes or Princesses of Hell.

  Sam watched them, intrigued. Other than his brother and father, these creatures were the closest thing to kin he’d ever seen. It almost made him want to jump out and introduce himself. This fleeting thought lasted only long enough for Sam to feel a little disgusted with himself. He remembered then the humans they were herding and the looks of dismay on their faces.

  He couldn’t do anything here. He was outnumbered and he’d been in this position before. He simply couldn’t save every human he met in Hell. It was impossible. He just had to remember that he was here for a reason: to find Grace and possibly his mother. Even though it pained him, that was all he could possibly do. To try and do more would be disastrous.

  Sam was about to breathe a sigh of relief as the two royal demons passed but then, abruptly, the male one stopped. The female followed suit. They were less than ten feet from Sam’s position. They started talking, low-pitched noises that Sam strained to hear. At first, he couldn’t understand them but then the words gradually unraveled themselves.

  They were conversing in Hellspeak, the language of Hell that Sam understood instinctively. It was, after all, hard-wired into his DNA. As befitted its origin, the language was harsh sounding, guttural and clipped, but Sam found himself warming to it as he listened, almost as if he’d been reunited with an old friend.

  “… I too, have better things to do than go chasing after rumors,” the male demon was saying.

  “My sources tell me that this isn’t just a rumor,” replied the female.

  The male demon laughed; the sound made Sam wince. “Your sources? You mean that mentally- challenged serpent of yours? How can you possibly trust anything that says?”

  “Because I do,” she snapped. “Besides, it emerged on a disused portal. Last time that was used was eight hundred Earth years ago. Coincidence, I don’t think.”

  The male demon snorted derisively. “Even if you’re right, whatever it is will be long gone. I fail to see the point of this trip. I haven’t got time to spare for this. I’ve got to get these humans down to the pits.”

  “You’ll do what you’re commanded to do,” said the female demon. Her voice was flat.

  Moving ever so slightly so that he could peer out of the alcove with one eye, Sam simply had to watch what happened next. The male demon’s hand was edging slightly towards his sword hilt.

  “I wouldn’t if I were you,” said the female calmly. The male demon’s hand froze. “The Lightbringer himself ordered me to investigate this personally,” she continued. “And to recruit whoever I saw fit to help. That means you. Consider this also; whatever or whoever this intruder is, our senses will reveal its true nature before long. It cannot hide from us. Now, I suggest that if you want to keep breathing that you do exactly what I ask.”

  The male demon did not respond. He didn’t move either. Instead, he stood facing the other demon. Sam could sense his hatred and rage.

  “The longer we delay here, the further away our quarry will get,” said the female. “I sugg
est we make haste.” She extended an open hand along the corridor. “After you.”

  With every indication of poor grace, the other demon moved off, muttering darkly under his breath.

  Relieved, Sam finally exhaled but remained motionless, synthesizing what he’d just heard. They knew of his presence. The fire serpent, though not very intelligent if the demons were to be believed, had alerted one of its masters that the strange, disused portal had disgorged an unusual visitor to Hell. It also appeared that his father was taking a personal interest. That could potentially complicate matters. Sam would have to be doubly on his guard now.

  He waited a bit longer, just to be sure. Only when both his demonic and normal senses told him he was alone did he leave the small alcove, setting off once more along the tunnel. The tunnel was starting to angle upwards which gave Sam a little hope. He needed to get out of these tunnels and back in Hell proper. It was there he would find what he needed. Hopefully. The fact that he was now moving upwards meant that the exit couldn’t be too far away. He must’ve traveled miles by now. Surely he was no longer underneath the sea of fire?

  Sam’s guess wasn’t far wrong. The tunnel continued to angle upwards. It widened and then suddenly he was at an exit. He approached it cautiously, unsure what he would find.

  He emerged on a rocky plateau of a scale almost too big to grasp. Were there any limits to this place? In this distance, perhaps five miles away, was a range of mountains. The summits soared into the empty air, almost scraping the ceiling of Hell. Molten lava spewed from the tops, dribbling fiery death down their slopes. Sam nodded in satisfaction. He’d got lucky. These hellish mountains were exactly the sort of habitat he sought.

  Above him, winged demons circled on the warm updrafts. In the distance he could see other demons on the ground — some herding groups of despondent humans, others engaged in tasks unclear to Sam. Getting across the plateau would not be easy. He just hoped his glamor would stay in place long enough to get him through. If he was discovered in the open like this, it would be curtains for him. There was nowhere to run.

  Keeping away from any demons as much as possible, he made his way towards the nearest mountain. He kept moving, eating up the ground with long, swift strides. The shadow of the nearest mountain fell over him and hope surged. Running now, he reached the base without further incident. It was dotted with entrances. He considered his options — not that he really had any — and picked one at random. The tunnel, much like the one underground, was deserted. It angled sharply upwards in only one direction. Perfect.

  He wasn’t sure how long he’d been climbing but it must have been several hours since he’d emerged from the tunnel onto the actual flank of the mountain itself. Coarse steps had been cut into the rock face, much too large for him, but he persevered, avoiding any trails of lava as he climbed. Now he was nearing the summit, a wall of rock rising in front of him. A path had been cut through it which he followed, leading him to a stunning vista. The main mountain crater was below him, spewing lava in fiery gouts. Several smaller craters were clustered nearby, and it was in their direction that he headed.

  The path down was hectic and jumbled, with solidified lava forms obscuring the path almost at every turn. Eventually, he reached the bottom and scanned the area carefully. A few humanoid demons were clustered around the main crater, seemingly heedless of the lava, and a few of the remote craters were attended by smaller groups of demons. One crater caught his eye. It was isolated and unattended — clearly not a popular choice for other demons. He walked towards it, trying to look natural, and reached the side of it without incident.

  From the pocket of his jeans, he pulled out the statuette Samyaza had given him.

  Now, about to throw the statuette into the crater, he hesitated. Was this truly his only option — to employ the services of a demon in order to find Grace and hopefully his mother? Was this the only way? The statuette trembled slightly in his hand as if replying. Sam sighed. Once again, he really had no option. It was this or consign Grace to Hell for ever.

  He threw the statuette as hard as he could into the center of the crater. With the tiniest of splashes, it disappeared into the depths of the lava.

  For a moment, nothing happened. Then the lava began to boil like it was alive. Sam glanced around nervously. As luck would have it, several of the other craters had started to boil at the same time so the activity at his one was not attracting any unwarranted attention.

  The lava boiled for several minutes. Then, without warning, it stopped. That was it. It didn’t gradually subside, it just stopped. Sam waited. And waited. Nothing happened. He looked over at the other craters. He could just make out a few juvenile Hellhounds emerging. Fights amongst the demon Princes and Princesses had already begun, each seeking to present before the Hellhound, hoping to win their service.

  Despair filled him. Clearly he was not worthy — not powerful enough to attract a Hellhound. Because of his weakness, he would fail. Without a Hellhound to assist him, Sam had no chance to find anyone — no chance at all.

  He was about to turn around and give up when the lava around the edge of his crater stirred. Sam held his breath. Bringing back thoughts of the fire serpent, a massive head emerged, followed by the rest of the dog-like body. Sam had seen Hellhounds before. He’d even fought and defeated one — but this one was different. For one thing, it was smaller. It stalked up to where Sam stood motionless, its eyes level with his. The other Hellhounds he’d seen were eight foot or more at the shoulder. This was a juvenile. It was different in other ways, too. Its jaws were heavier, more massive and the claws on its feet looked like shards of obsidian. Its coat suddenly ignited into flame, shooting molten sparks over and around Sam. Despite the fact that his clothes were beginning to smolder, he didn’t move. From experience, he knew that he was essentially impervious to the fire generated by this creature. More to the point, he knew that this was some form of test. If he displayed weakness here, the Hellhound would overlook him for a more powerful master.

  Sam stood his ground and met the eye of the creature. For what must have been minutes but felt much longer, the Hellhound’s fiery gaze burned into his dark irises. Instinctively, Sam knew what to do. He opened his mind to the creature, giving it access to his memories. He had no idea how the Hellhound would react, but he had to try. Perhaps the demon would find some worthy deed in Sam’s past, but he doubted it. What would some evil creature like a demon find worthy in Sam? But then again, this demon had only just been born. Were demons born evil or were they a product of their upbringing and environment? He’d soon find out.

  He felt the Hellhound sift through his memories, concentrating — oddly — on random memories that Sam felt would have little significance to a demon. His moments with Aimi. Lessons learnt from Hikari. Meals shared. Then the demon’s attention shifted to more martial memories. Of him fighting other demons. Protecting humans. Making sacrifices. Finally Sam felt something pass between them.

  Yeth.

  What? He hadn’t spoken, and he was pretty sure the Hellhound hadn’t either.

  Yeth.

  The word came again, a deep sibilant voice in his head. A moment of realization struck. The Hellhound was telling him his name — and names meant power amongst demons. The Hellhound’s name was Yeth.

  He stared at Yeth for a moment longer. For a fraction of a second, the Hellhound’s gaze wavered. It looked away for a moment and in that moment, lowered its head ever so slightly. It was hardly noticeable but Sam knew it for what it was. Obeisance. The Hellhound was giving him its servitude, had considered him worthy after all.

  He rocked back on his heels, for some reason more pleased with this outcome than he’d thought he would be. Samael, he said, using his mind and not his words. He wasn’t sure whether this would work or not, but he’d have to learn to communicate with his Hellhound at some point. Why not now?

  He watched Yeth carefully. A tiny flick of its head seemed to indicate Sam that he’d been heard but he couldn’t
really be sure. Conscious that the longer he stayed here, the more likely they would receive some unwanted attention, Sam produced a small piece of material from his back pocket. It was a strip of cloth that he’d torn from his jacket months earlier — a piece of cloth that he’d used to bind one of Grace’s wounds last time they were in Hell. He’d found it back in the Cash and Carry after the battle in L.A. after Grace had disappeared. Some instinct had forced him to grab it and stuff it into his pocket, even though at the time hadn’t made sense. It did now though.

  He held it out to Yeth and pictured Grace in his mind. It wasn’t hard; he remembered her clearly and wasn’t likely to forget. It wasn’t like he had a lot of friends.

  Sparks from the Hellhound’s snout caused the rag to smolder. Sam pulled it away hastily, but not before the great beast had had a chance to sniff it. It looked at Sam, eyes blazing. Without pausing to see if Sam followed or not, it raced off, trailing molten fire, heading for a nearby cave entrance. Sam took off after it, hope filling his heart with more elation than he’d felt for months, if not years. The first part of his task was complete. And that was the easy part. Now for the second.

  Chapter Four

  Hellhound

  “ This is the evil in everything that happens under the sun: The same destiny overtakes all. The hearts of men, moreover, are full of evil and there is madness in their hearts while they live, and afterward they join the dead.”

  Ecclesiastes 9:3

  Yeth moved at breakneck speed. Sam, no slouch in the speed department himself, had trouble keeping up. The Hellhound didn’t seem to concern himself with petty matters like his master being able to follow him. In fact, it seemed like Sam was being completely ignored.

  They raced through underground tunnels so steep that sometimes Sam found himself sliding. Ahead of him, he could hear Yeth’s claws clicking on the rocky surface. Most of the tunnels were quite narrow, the Hellhound’s bulk almost filling it completely. Side chambers contained pools of molten lava but Yeth never ventured into any of them. In fact, the Hellhound did not falter at all, seeming completely sure of his path.