Thanks to a dare gone wrong, Maggie Brumfield finds out the hard way that Heaven and Hell are real.
Prince Laudon, Lucifer's son and the current ruler of Hell, has locked Maggie into a sinister deal that grants him temporary ownership of her soul...
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MAGGIE'S POV
I've never been able to lucid dream.
Tonight is my first time doing so, and I suspect my newfound powers are to blame. Ever since I struck Laudon for the first time all those weeks ago, I've been changing gradually. And in the past twenty-four hours, my vision and hearing have sharpened. At certain times, I could tell whether it was my parents or my brother coming to see me before they even knocked on my bedroom door.
Then there's what's happening now with this eerie, hyper-realistic dream.
It feels like I'm in a movie. One where I'm apparently dead and am on my way to meet whoever my maker is because around me is nothing but big, fluffy, white clouds. The sky is clouds. The ground is clouds. Everywhere I look, it's nothing but clouds.
I think I'm alone here. That ought to scare me but it doesn't. I don't really feel much of anything, not until I see it. There is something starting to form in the distance, something I have to reach. I don't know what it is yet, but my gut tells me that I need to keep walking until I reach it. So, I keep walking.
I walk for so long that I should be out of breath and ready to collapse. Neither happens. I sense nothing but the softness of the clouds beneath my bare feet. I pick up the pace and run the rest of the way. Getting closer and closer, a large cell finishes materializing right before my eyes. If there was a jail strictly for the affluent, it would look identical to what I see in front of me right now.
The single cell is about the size of a master bedroom, if said bedroom was part of a luxurious supernatural mansion. It's several meters high, the metal bars are bright gold and covered in faded black words that I can't decipher. The ceiling has angel artwork on it and the floor is made of marble, the color off-white with gold streaks. There is no furniture or bedding in the cell. Nothing but a tall woman curled up in the center. She has long dark hair and is dressed in a dingy white gown that stops at her ankles, signaling she's been here for a while.
This can't be her home, I think to myself. This must be her prison.
The massive lock on the cell door confirms that. I touch it and immediately get shocked. I hiss from the pain and quickly pull my hand back. The commotion stirs the woman awake. She sits up slowly, pushing her frazzled dark hair out of her face, then she stares at me. Gold eyes locked on mine. Her beauty renders me speechless.
When she stands to walk towards me, her height nearing eight feet, metal handcuffs and chains that weren't there five seconds ago suddenly appear around her thin pale wrists and ankles.
My heart aches for the poor woman. How long has she been here? Who put her here? What crime did she commit that warranted her to be punished like this? Looks can be deceiving, but so far, I'm not picking up any bad vibes from her. She can't possibly be dangerous enough to where she needs to be locked down inside ofa locked cage.
