To Hell and Back for You

Chapter 12: Fatal Mistake

"Mark?"

The abrupt sound of Emma whispering my name jolted my awareness, making me realize I had been sitting in my room for a few moments. I wasn't sure what had happened at first; I remembered the trek to Hell, seeing McGraff, and worrying about my decision to be there. The rest, however, was absent from my brain.

"Mark?" her voice came more loudly, but uncertain.

"Shh!" I snapped, gaze settling blankly before me.

I couldn't bring myself to explain what was going on or to look around and see what the ghosts were up to. Partly because the shock of my return had taken a physical toll, leaving my body shaky and chilled. As I fought to regain my breath, my mind began recalling pieces of my final minutes in Hell.

"Is it him?" I heard Todd ask in a shushed manner.

My brow furrowed as I glanced up at the boy, then to Damian who was still at the door with baseball bat across his shoulders and the demeanor of a patient time bomb. Emma was the only one who displayed any kind of concern, her big eyes and parted lips silently prompting me to speak. Even so, I was having trouble articulating. My chest was falling in a more steady pattern now and the blur was fading.

As I locked sights with her, my fingers found a torn spot on my chest where I had been grabbed. I thumbed through the clothes to feel bloody cuts of flesh. My vision flashed with rhe memory of claws gripping me angrily.

The creature that had led my way had casually stepped to the side when McGraff addressed us. It didn't seem too eager to be part of the battle yet simultaneously gave no appearance that he was frightened to be around either. It was as if he allowed every party to do what they wished regardless of any sense of right and wrong or any personal wishes. He stood by, observing as the serial killer leapt forward at an unsettling quick pace. Once upon me, he reached clawed hands out and pulled me close.

"Mm..." he inhaled a large huff of air through his nose as if taking in my scent, "You're not dead. I can smell the life of you," his mouth grew to an evil grin, exposing rotted teeth, "Quite a strange occurrence, this. Isn't it, Spike?"

He had directed his question to my demonic escort with a tilt of his head. Spike? Somehow I doubted that was his real name. Probably just a joke to Lloyd. Nonetheless, 'Spike' looked just as unamused as he had been the entire time, though he kept watching regardless. Part of me wanted to ask for his help and the other simply wanted to wait to be slaughtered so I didn't bring this man back to Earth.

Despite having a human form, it was hard to call him a man. Besides sharp nails which came to threatening points, his eyes were void of warmth and bloodthirsty. Cold, calculating, aggressive. They reminded me of my father.

"So then, what are you doing here, hm?" the necromancer purred, tightening his hold.

If it hadn't been for the terror I was feeling, I'd probably have answered with something, but as it was, I hadn't been collected enough to do anything except stare back helplessly. And it seemed that he wasn't as patient as the other demon.

He almost instantly grew furious that I hadn't replied and reared his claw behind him before plummeting it into my core. It didn't hurt as greatly as anticipated. Jovial laughter sounded directly after that jarred our attention to the demon, who actually looked more creepy while laughing. McGraff growled viciously, but didn't speak.

The chuckling ceased, leaving a smile on the neutral creature's face, "You know you're not strong enough for that. Maybe you were once, but reading a being's soul takes a lot more than what you are at present."

The man didn't appreciate Spike's nonchalant behavior at all and he certainly didn't seem pleased with knowing he wasn't at full power. Even so, the reminder was all he needed to change the subject from the reason for my presence to how he could use it to benefit himself.