The Creation (Book III)

(16) Present: 2024

                                                                           (16) Present: 2024

I’ve always wondered what Hell would be like, especially when I was a newborn vampire. I pictured fire, the Devil, and people screaming. It wasn’t like anything I had imagined. There I stood, my sneakers planted firmly on the colorless ground, choking on the grey dusty air all around. My eyes burned, my throat stung, and my lungs were coughing out dust. What was this? Ashes? From people? I shuddered at the thought and covered my mouth with my hand. It was so dusty and dark, I couldn’t see anything within ten feet of me.

It was completely silent. It was as if someone had pressed mute in here. Usually my hearing is extraordinary because I’m a vampire, but my hearing wasn’t special at all. I ran my tongue over my teeth and froze when my tongue didn’t touch a pair of fangs. Does this mean I’m no longer a vampire? Of course it does, because this is hell and my soul has been with me since birth, right? I wish I could contact Shana and ask her about it. Instead I just stood there coughing and gasping as the burning dust hit me. It was suffocating and blinding and painful.

This was going to be miserable.

After practically coughing up a lung I forced my legs forward, wincing each time dust blew into my eyes. I fought against the wind and listened for any sort of person who might be nearby. I knew it’d be pointless to start calling for Xavier from this close to the entrance of hell, so instead I started practically jogging forward into the unknown.

How long have I been walking? An hour? A day? It was impossible to tell. No sun, no moon, and no watch. I didn’t come across anyone, to my relief, but my mood change the more I walked. It was as if someone had ripped all happiness from me. I’d be thinking about Xavier and then I’d be sobbing and furious and terrified. It came out of nowhere. This place was toying with me the deeper into hell I went.

It was possibly several hours later when I decided to sit down on the grey ground and rest. It was more for emotional needs than physical as I curled up into a ball and sighed. Just a short break and I’d be on my way.

“Lucy,” a voice whispered in my ear.

I whipped my head around, but nothing was there.

“Lucy,” it said once more, sounding as if it were right next to me.

My body became stiff as my name was repeated. The voice wasn’t one I recognized, and that terrified me. It was repeating my name louder and harder, almost furiously. I whimpered and got to my feet, forcing myself forward. And it followed me no matter how fast I ran.

“Murderer. Thief. Whore,” it growled all around me like a swarm of bees buzzing beside me.

“No!” I snapped, running faster.

“Lucile Moore. Lucile Moore.”

“Stop it!”

“Lucy…Lucy…Lucy!”

“Stop! Just stop!”

I tripped over something and fell forward before rolling down what appeared to be a hill. Dust clung to my body by the time I stopped at the bottom, my eyes wide with terror. I didn’t know what to expect in a place like this, and I definitely didn’t expect the subtle yet growing torture it was dealing out.

“Looked like q-quite the f-fall.”

My eyes shifted to the left where a man stood in only a pair of shorts. He was old, with a white beard and a toothy smile. His body was covered in tattoos, including his bald head. Not only was he disturbing looking, but he was incredibly thin and looked breakable. How was this possible?