The Homecoming Part 1 - Hell Awaits

A supernatural fantasy thriller, telling the tale of Serathin -a child-like angel, and Hader - her reformed demon companion; who are on a quest to rescue a soul from Hell.

The Homecoming " Part One

 

‘Hell Awaits’

 

By Adam Dawson

 

 

The steady, New England rain was gradually becoming a downpour, as Hader crossed the street towards the old colonial style house - the last one on the left. His feet trudged through the sodden autumn leaves that were covering the ground, and his old fashioned suit and shirt, out of sync with the styles of nineteen-nineties America, were almost soaked through. The steel shaft of his ceremonial weapon, hidden beneath his jacket, was cool against his back. He lifted his hand and wiped his long black hair from his face. He glanced furtively over his shoulder at an imagined sound, then quickened his pace, raising his collar against the cold wind.

 

He paused as he approached the steps that led to the stained oak door of the decrepit old house, and sighed heavily, knowing what lay ahead. A feeling of foreboding welled within him as he climbed the steps. As he reached the door, a street lamp flickered momentarily, and then went out completely - the street was plunged into darkness. Hader turned slowly, and searched from one end of the street to the other, for any sign of movement, but there was none to be seen. The only light was now provided by a large candle, glowing over his shoulder, from a lower front window of the house. His tall, lean frame cast a faint shadow that fell, crooked, down the steps and bled into the darkness of the street.

 

As he stood there, scanning the darkened street, the ancient spellwords in his pocket - written upon a lined page, torn from a simple notebook - burned against his leg. The paper that the words were written on was almost writhing with the agony of the invocation upon them. Hader adjusted his position to alleviate the discomfort and paused before turning back to the door - he couldn’t see Them anywhere. He couldn’t hear Them either. But he could feel Them….and he could feel Their hatred. He glanced at his wristwatch - it was nearly midnight. He didn’t have much time. He turned and opened the old, oak door, the hinge groaning as the door slowly swung open, almost in protest at allowing anyone within.

 

Inside, the house was an empty, wooden shell; there was no furniture to speak of (other than a filthy pine table near the window, holding the aforementioned large candle) and the curtains were nothing more than tattered rags, fluttering in the breeze of the open door. The bare wooden floor was coated in years of mould and dirt, with broken floorboards scattered here and there. The old fashioned wallpaper was pale and faded, and spattered with dark stains - stains that spoke of past atrocities. The empty house was briefly illuminated by a flash of lightening, followed moments later by a distant roll of thunder. As the thunder passed, Hader noticed an unpleasant smell in the air - a sulphurous smell….like death and decay.

Hader stepped towards the staircase, situated in the centre of a long, wide hall. As he reached the steps he gazed into the shadows that shrouded the rear of the house, feeling as if he was being watched from within the darkness. “Serathin?” he called. There was no response, so he stepped onto the first stair, but then paused and looked back to the door, wondering whether he should close it and lock it. “Where’s the point?” he reasoned with himself “A locked front door won’t slow Them for long.” Even so, he walked back to the front door, closed it and then locked it with the heavy deadbolts, at top and bottom. He walked back to the staircase, watching the shadows intently, as they watched him in return. He removed his sodden suit jacket, exposing the ceremonial weapon hung from a strap, across his back. The jacket, he hung over the globe topped column at the bottom of the banister. The spellwords in his pocket burned brighter, momentarily, as if to urge him onwards. He took a deep breath and climbed the stairs.

 

At the top of the stairs, Hader found that the darkness was almost complete. The wind was picking up outside, and, if possible, the rain was getting even heavier. He searched his back pockets for his old metal lighter, and once he’d found it, he lit it and held it aloft, to the light the way forward. There were a few large candles, sat in wall-mounted, ornamental sconces along the landing wall, so as he made his way down the landing, he lit each one.

Suddenly, almost at the end of the landing, a wave of hatred hit him like a blow - The Horde was almost upon him. The spellwords in his pocket burned brightly in fear of the approaching evil….the very words themselves could feel Them coming, just like Hader could. There was a sudden flash of white lightening, followed by a rumble of thunder, the thunder louder and closer this time. In the flash of white light, Hader saw the room before him illuminated perfectly for a brief half-second. There, in the centre of the empty bedroom, sat a girl - no more than a child - huddled in a lonesome heap on the bare wooden floor, her white-blonde hair dirty and lank, and her old fashioned clothes stained with the grime of decades.

 

“Serathin!” Hader exclaimed, relieved to have found her.

 

“Hader!” Fear and fatigue were etched on the girl-child’s face as she looked up.

 

“Did you get the invocation? Did he give you the spellwords?”

 

“Yes " I have the words.” He replied as he was walked into the room and helped her to her feet.

 

“Thank the Lord! While you were gone I consulted with The Elders - did you know that those words are the only way we have of escaping from the Pit, once we have found Eleanor’s soul, and freed her?” Hader merely shook his head in response, despite her child-like enthusiasm. “Can I see them, please?” she asked.

 

“Of course " they’re in my pocket. The old man was happy to give them to me….despite what I am.” he replied, as he rummaged in his pocket.

 

“How many times have I told you Hader?” the girl replied, admonishingly. “It is not WHAT you are that defines you…..it is WHO you are.” She touched his face affectionately, as he looked uncomfortably to the floor.

 

“Thank you Serathin…..though I doubt any of my kind would agree with you. Here…” He took the notepaper from his pocket and passed it to her. As he did so, there was another flash of lightening, this one lasting longer than before, and the thunder was closer and louder again. The girl-child burrowed her face into his side, hiding from the oncoming storm, his arm wrapped protectively around her as the almighty roll of thunder shook the very glass of the windows.

 

“We must go….now!” the words were almost hissed. “The Horde has found us….. They are here, Serathin.”

 

Hader noticed a change in the air around him, in the aftermath of the last lightening flash. That foul stench of corruption was growing stronger, filling his nostrils, just as the temperature seemed to be getting warmer too. He turned and looked towards the bedroom door, which led to the landing beyond - the air seemed to crackle with electricity, and the darkness appeared to grow even blacker.

 

“Hader, my sweet, we can’t leave yet.” she tilted her head as she spoke. “If I even attempt to take these spell-words across the boundary and into Hell, the very paper holding them will be utterly destroyed. I must memorise the invocation - it’s the only way.”

 

Hader replied without averting his gaze from the landing, the air sizzling with electricity - ”How long will it take you to learn the invocation?” But before Serathin could answer there was a flash of white electricity, and an almighty crack, as the fabric of reality itself was torn asunder. Where previously stood the bedroom door to the landing, there was now a gaping hole in existence…..and through the hole burned the fires of Hell. The outpouring heat from the opened gateway was like a furnace, which momentarily took their breath away. Dark shapes, silhouetted against the fiery vista of Damnation, shuffled towards the gateway; snuffling, snarling and moaning.

 

“Hide Serathin!” Hader commanded “Learn those spell-words as quickly as you can!” And with that, the girl-child scurried into the large bedroom closet and slammed the door shut. Hader reached over his shoulder and unclasped the pike - his weapon of choice - from the strap across his shoulder blades. The pike was a solid steel shaft, about three feet long, with a foot long blade at one end, shaped like an elongated shark’s dorsal fin. The weapon was covered in scratches and dents from past use, and the bound leather hand grips were old and worn. As the beasts began to shuffle forwards, and almost fall through the gateway, onto the wooden bedroom floor, Hader tightened his one-handed grip on the steel shaft of the pike, and began swinging it in complex movements, loosening his muscles; readying himself for combat.

 

The first of the beasts through the gateway was an Incubus - a small wiry demon, with charred black hairless skin, and bright red eyes. The Incubus snarled as it leapt, showing its fangs, its clawed fingers outstretched. There was a flash of grey metal and a spray of dark red blood, as Hader sliced his pike across and down. The Incubus squealed, in a voice both high pitched and deep at the same time, as it was cut in two - its upper body landed to Haders left; its legs and abdomen to his right, and its entrails were splattered across his feet, like slimy, twisted rope. The Incubus thrashed its arms wildly and continued to squeal in its death throes, until finally falling still, its bright red eyes dimming, as it died.

 

Hader looked up from the broken carcass before him, to see the beasts milling at the gateway, their movement almost in slow motion, as if time itself slowed at the boundary between Hell and reality. As they shuffled forward, Hader could see that there were many more Incubi, and there were also many of the Undead - quite literally reanimated corpses, in various states of decomposition, mindless and relentless. Hader was dismayed to see that there was also a pair of Golems - great hulking demons, composed of cooled magma and possessed by a multitude of evil spirits; it’s visage in constant fluctuation, as it changed between the snarling, screaming faces of its many possessors. His only relief was that he could not see any of the Daemon - the most intelligent of Hells demons, human in appearance, although red-eyed and fanged, but also stronger and faster than man, and ritualistically trained in the use of ancient weaponry.

 

“Serathin…how long is this going to take?” Hader called over his shoulder, as the Hell-beasts began to fall through the gateway.

 

“I’m going as fast as I can, Hader " this text is very complex. I haven’t read ancient Hebrew in many years” she shouted back from the closet. “Just give me a few minutes to memorize it " I know you can hold them off, Hader!”

 

“Oh, I don’t doubt my own ability, Serathin ……I’m only fearful that I’m really going to enjoy this, now.” That last comment was whispered sadly to himself, as he tightened his grip on the pikes shaft. But in her mind, Serathin heard the whispered comment, and a single, lonely tear rolled down her cheek as she whispered in reply “I know Hader, and I am so sorry that I have brought you to this, once more.” She looked up to the ceiling and spoke faintly to the heavens - “Forgive me, Lord” - before looking back down to the ancient invocation, illuminated by the light-orb she had conjured earlier, and continued her work.

 

Hader took a deep breath and pounced forward, slicing the pike blade across the chest of an Incubus, before punching the solid steel shaft through the rotten skull of an Undead, destroying it’s brain. The Undead crumbled to the floor, as the Incubus fell forwards, gasping and clutching at its open chest, vainly trying to keeps its innards inside with its hands. There was a snarl and a sudden flash of pain as an Incubus slashed its claws down his back - he spun, pike-blade extended and smashed the blade through the Incubus’ skull, splattering blood and brains across his arms and chest. Two of the Undead approached from his left, so he dropped to one knee, and chopped them both in half, across the waist, his pike-blade swinging in a wide arc. The two pairs of legs crumbled before him, but the upper bodies of the Undead fell to the floor, and continued to claw their way towards his feet, their dry, crusty intestines dragging along the floor behind them. Hader launched himself into the air, and slammed down on top of the two half-corpses, his booted feet crushing one skull, and his pike shaft smashing down through the other. An Incubus was before him, so he pounced upwards from his crouching position, thrusting his pike-blade up through the Incubus’ bottom jaw and into the skull, smashing shards of bone and grey globules of brain out of the top of its head. The pike was caught on the dead Incubus’s jawbone, so as Hader pushed down on the black corpse with his foot, trying to wrench the blade clear, he called to Serathin - “Anytime now would be great, you know!” She may well have replied, but Hader wouldn’t have heard, as a Golem grabbed him from behind, its huge, burning hot magma hands searing his flesh, as it lifted him high above its head. Hader roared in agony as his skin boiled and bubbled at the Golems touch, and he was thrown across the room like a ragdoll, crashing into the far wall - his body hanging momentarily in the indentation he had made in the smashed wooden wall, before dropping to the floor.

 

Hader lay still, unable to move….or even think, momentarily, as pain wracked his body. He rolled to his side, the remaining beasts a blurred mass of silhouettes before him, the fires of Hell burning brightly behind them. The charred Golem hand marks on his back sizzled as his burned skin began to cool, the centre of his back a blood-soaked mess of torn flesh and splinters, from the smashed wooden wall. He gently pressed his hand against his left side, to confirm that there were one or two broken ribs, and as he applied the pressure, he felt a jab of pain in his chest, coughing up a mouthful of blood - perhaps one broken rib had pierced his lung.

 

Hader pulled himself up to one knee, resting his weight on the shaft of his pike, the remains of the Horde shuffling towards him. He fought to remain calm, but it was no good - he could feel the rage building inside him, fuelled by pain; he could hear the bloodlust calling him. A weak, faint part of his mind voiced the word “no”, as a deep guttural roar responded with “YESSS”. The anger in him flared, like a dying flame given a burst of oxygen - the bloodlust was almost upon him. Hader relaxed, resigned to excepting the inevitable, and let the rage overwhelm him, his blood boiling and coursing through his veins - feeding broken parts of his body with suddenly renewed, supernatural vigour. His open wounds sealed themselves, his broken bones fused back together, and the burnt flesh of his back healed itself.

 

The bloodlust was upon him now, the rage feeding him with energy. He opened his burning red eyes, and licked a spatter of blood - whose blood it was, was unclear - from his lips, grinning evilly at the oncoming Hell-Beasts. His long black hair hung in rats-tails before his face, whilst his sharp, ragged fangs gleamed white, in the darkness.

 

He ripped the remains of his shirt from his chest, and used them to wipe the blood from the hand grips of his pike. Then he discarded the shirt and suddenly launched himself forward at a run, towards the Horde, laughing insanely. He leapt, spinning, and decapitated two Incubi with one swing of his pike, their headless bodies spouting blood into the air as they fell forward, like a pair of obscene fountains. Hader landed hard, his pike shaft smashing the skull of an Undead. He spun and disembowelled an Incubus, before punching his fist straight through the face of another Undead, its body crumbling before him. He thrust his pike blade through the chest of an Incubus, and then reversed the blade to decapitate another. He somersaulted backwards, landing with his pike blade embedded in the skull of another Incubus, and then he wrenched it clear, to turn and impale an Undead. These two beasts fell to the floor as Hader span twice, blade extended, and decapitated two more of the Undead. He leapt, feet first, at another of the Undead, ripping its head from its shoulders with the force of his kick, and spun, as he landed, to decapitate an Incubus.

 

He took two quick paces and jumped towards the wall, pushing off with his feet, to fly through the air and land astride the shoulders of the first Golem. The magma of the Golems body started to burn through Haders pants, so he moved into a crouched position, his boots sizzling at the touch of the magma. As he smashed the pike blade down through the top of the Golems head, right up to the hand grip, the Golem roared its pain in a demonic multitude of voices. Hader twisted the blade violently, and wrenched it clear, jumping from the Golems shoulders with a chilling, triumphant cry as he ripped the head clear off the body. Like a tornado of red wind, a multitude of dark spirits vomited out of the Golems open neck, leaving the broken magma body behind; now an empty shell. The body toppled forwards like a felled tree, and shattered into steaming lumps of black rock, as it hit the floor. The red cloud of evil howled in a hundred different voices, as it was sucked back into Hell. Hader dispatched the final Incubus with a backhanded thrust, and smashed the head of the final Undead, before turning to face the second Golem.

 

The Golem moaned, with a hundred tormented voices, as it stepped forwards, its huge magma arms outstretched. Hader ducked and twisted to the Golems left, heaving his pike blade in a wide, powerful arc. The pike blade smashed straight through the Golems chest, smattering shards of hissing black rock across the floor. The Golems head, shoulders and arms toppled backwards, falling off its chest, to shatter upon the floor. The rest of the Golems body slowed its run, and fell to its knees, the red tornado of evil souls gushing forth from the glowing, broken chest; screaming their many-voiced fury on their way back to Hell. Once empty, the body fell forwards to the ground, and began to crack apart, as its temperature cooled.

 

Hader was crouched on one knee, in the centre of the room, his right arm still extended, holding the pike, just as he had come to rest after destroying the second Golem - the last of The Hell Horde. He turned at a crackling sound behind him, to see the gateway gradually shrink and disappear, with a strobe-like flash of white electricity, and a noise like splintering wood. The room was plunged into darkness once more, and Hader slowly turned and surveyed the annihilation across the room before him, his red eyes adjusting to the faint illumination provided by the now-working street light outside. Across the room, dismembered, bloody corpses of Incubi were strewn everywhere, with chunks of hissing, black Golem rock here and there, and the rotten, crumbled remains of the Undead corpses scattered around; all awash in a floor sticky with blood, slime and demons innards.

 

Hader stood in the middle of it all grinning and covered in gore. As he looked around the room, his eyes fell upon Serathin, stood by the closet door, the crumpled piece of note paper in her hand.

 

“Oh Hader,” she cried, her eyes full of tears and pity “I’m so sorry”.

 

His smile faded as he looked into those innocent, loving eyes, and the bloodlust passed completely. He looked away uncomfortably, and stumbled forwards, to sit down against the wall, feeling empty and spent.

 

“No apology required, my girl. I am what I am, and this is what I do best.” He placed his pike on the ground and tried to wipe the blood and gore from his hands and face. He laughed angrily, almost a bark " “HA! I mean….. look at us; a pair of dead Victorians running around in twentieth century America, trying to find a way to rescue a healer-woman’s soul from Hell, who hasn’t even been born yet! You’re a nine year old angel, and I’m the resurrected Daemon that killed you, over a century ago! We don’t stand a chance of succeeding…..and I certainly don’t deserve your forgiveness either!” As he finished talking, Haders head slumped into his hands.

 

Serathin walked across the room and sat down next to him, placing a her little arm around his neck.

 

“You’re always like this after a bloodlust rage…..You’re like bloody clockwork, you know.” As she said this, she kissed him gently on the head. “In life you did many bad….many despicable things Hader, but as I recollect, you only ever did them to bad people. We both know that your killing of my earthly form was completely unintentional and accidental. Despite a catalogue of dark deeds against dark people, your soul has always been wracked with remorse, regarding my unfortunate death. We also both know that only an ‘Innocent’ can free a soul from Hell, so when I was given the task of saving Eleanor’s soul, after Astaroth stole it, I didn’t need to think twice about getting you out of Hell, so you could help me. It’s just a shame that it is so much more complex releasing an innocent soul from Hell, or I could have saved Eleanor in the same way that I released you. But anyway, my sweet….you may be bad sometimes, Hader, but in my opinion, you certainly don’t belong in Hell.”

 

Hader raised his head and smiled weakly at Serathin, patting her hand, which rested on his shoulder. “You’re right, as always my girl. It’s just hard….once the rage is spent….I disgust myself.”

 

“Now you’re being silly. You protected an angel child from a horde of demons - I’d have been disgusted if you hadn’t killed them all!” Despite the weight of her words, they both chuckled at this last comment.

 

Haders face took on a thoughtful look - “What happens when the task is complete, Serathin; once Eleanor’s soul is back in heaven?” he asked.

 

“I don’t know Hader…..I really don’t know. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, ok?” With that she stood up and took his strong, bloody hand, in her tiny pale hand, as if to haul him up. “Now, are you going to sit there feeling sorry for yourself all day, or are we going to finish this?”

 

Serathin pulled Hader to his feet, and passed him his pike. He stroked his hair back, away from his face, and looked down at her, smiling warmly. “Aye, my girl...lets finish this.”

 

They faced each other, hand in hand, and closed their eyes. They both took a deep breath and Hader spoke a single ancient word. The world lurched suddenly; a roaring sound filling their ears, and a spinning sensation assaulting their sense of balance, as the scene of carnage around them, and the decrepit old house itself, fell away from them. A few seconds passed, and they were still once more.

 

They exhaled slowly, still hand in hand, and opened their eyes………in Hell.

Author's Note

Hi. This is the 1st piece of writing that I've ever shown to anyone. I welcome any feedback. Always thought that Heaven and Hell are great for fictional works. Part 2 should be done soon. Enjoy. Ad.

Reviews

[AdamDawson]

* Just noticed - it's turned all of my dashes into inverted commas! No idea why!

[Ohhhwillow]

I love this!!! End line really hits home and I totally agree, heaven and hell are intriguing as this piece was, thanks and good job, I'd never shown my own writing until I started posting here yesterday either so I can totally relate!

[AdamDawson]

Glad you liked it! Only ever shown my scribblings to my wife in the past! A freind uses Jottify, so I thought post some stuff and see what happens.

[Ohhhwillow]

And I've only ever shown my boyfriend! Successful things will happen if you keep it up!