Hell (Part Four of the Purgatory Series)

Chapter Twelve: Last Hope and Half a Plan

Thea had never been particularly religious, but after the past few years, it didn’t really make sense not to be. She had encountered cambion, nephilim, demons, and even Lucifer himself. She had been to purgatory and limbo, and had been threatened with hell. So when she found herself dragging the broken body she was possessing into a nearby church, part of her wondered why she hadn’t been to one sooner. After all, surely it couldn’t make her situation any worse. 

She wasn’t sure if the spell Adrienne used to put her into this body was temporary, but it was becoming more and more difficult to move its limbs. Perhaps once the body decayed to a certain extent it wouldn’t be usable? Regardless, this wasn’t feasible for the long term. She would have to find another body to possess or live as a ghost. 

“Welcome,” a male voice called from near the altar. 

Since electricity was come and go because of the cambion attacks, candles were the only light she could see him by. Thea had sat near the back, not wanting to cause alarm, but the figure drifted closer. 

“Are you here to pray, or is there something I can help you with?” The man asked.

Being only a few feet from her now, Thea could see he was an older man. He had a fresh wound on his face, as if he had been attacked by something with long claws. 

“I–I honestly don’t know,” Thea replied, her voice coming out a croak. Apparently this body’s limbs weren’t the only thing deteriorating. 

The old man nodded. “I get that a lot. Maybe I could get you some medical supplies for your injuries?”

A defeated laugh escaped Thea’s throat. “I don’t think that would help at this point. I’m dead.”

The man recoiled, reaching for something at his waist. It glinted in the low light – a knife.

“It’s alright,” Thea reassured. “I won’t hurt you. In fact, I don’t think I’m even capable of lifting my arms anymore.”

“What are you?” He demanded to know. “Not a goblin, obviously. Too sick and broken to be a vampire.”

Thea shrugged. “Nothing more than a ghost. Using this dead body as a vessel until I can figure out something else.”

“I see,” he said as he returned his knife to his belt. “That…is definitely a new one. How did this happen?”
Thea took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Where would she even start? How much could she say without being kicked out? She had done a lot of awful things in the past couple of years. 

“I’m afraid that is a very, very long story,” she eventually replied. “And not a very nice one.”

The old man laughed and sat in the pew in front of her. “No, I imagine it’s not considering you’re dead. Just tell me this first: human souls are meant to go to heaven, so how did you end up like this?”

“I trusted the wrong person,” she admitted, wondering if he would believe her if she told him everything. “In fact, that’s probably what caused all of this.”

His hand reached up to touch the cuts on his face. “I understand that all too well. But that can’t stop us from doing what we know to be right. If we give up and stop trusting others, the evil ones win.”

Thea felt her eyes water and sting. “I’m pretty sure they already have.”

The old man shook his head and smiled. “The fact that you and I are here, still fighting, is proof that they haven’t. They just want us to think that, so it’s easier for them. But I don’t plan to give up without a fight.”

“I used to think that way too,” Thea replied, with a sniffle. “But then I was turned into a monster, killed, resurrected, betrayed, tortured, killed again, then made a disembodied ghost. I think my fighting days are over.”