Living Hell

Dad was going to be pissed.

Not just because I’d gone against his orders (again) but also because I’d shown him up in front of all his disciples.

Also not my first offence.

Since the early hours of the morning, I’d been camped out in my cave, a place I’d mine a few years back when I needed some space from my hectic family. I knew from the moment I woke up that today was not going to roll in my favour, and that if I desired any chance of putting off the uproar that was about to plummet my way, hiding away from the man who’d cast the storm had seemed like the best and really the only option.

I’d not thought much of some of the souls’ gossip the night before and the Blood Bar, yattering on about ‘defying orders’ and ‘rouge demon’ since most of their idiotic chit-chat revolved around Living matters that had no effect over me. Who was I to know that the demon they’d been talking about was me?

From the murderers to the rapists, to the thieves and the terrorists, they were all probably now talking about how the ‘King’ of the Underworld, the ‘Lord of the Undead’ and ‘Hell’s mightiest being’ couldn’t control one of his youngest sons.

I didn’t know why they were surprised however: They should have known by now that I was pretty much uncontrollable.

My reputation was based om the very fact that I was a rebel without a cause, no ambition, no future, no hopes. I didn’t care for the jobs Dad gave me, nor did I care for the wellbeing of anyone else who resided down here in Hell. I was concerned only with myself, and it had been that way ever since Mom left.

“I don’t know why I bother hiding,” I thought aloud to myself as I made myself comfortable in my hammock. My black suit crumpled beneath me as I adjusted myself, twisting on my side so I could reach down for my drink on the cave ground. Scattered around me were snacks and small collections of items I’d taken from souls whenever I deemed something they had interesting or not worth their time in Hell. I hid them here so Dad couldn’t take them from me, since despite knowing about my cave, he’d never come out here in person.

Still, I knew hiding from the Lord of the Underworld was pointless. “He’ll find me within seconds,” I told myself as I took a swig from my bottle, the cold liquid soothing my throat in the soaring heat. As a demon, you’d expect mundane issues such as temperature and need for nutrients not to bother me, but every now and then I liked to delve into these senses and stages of feeling, just to feel a little more than what I did on a daily basis. That was something my family, regardless of our similarities in circumstances, could never understand.

“Dad would never understand,” I emphasised to myself.

And as if on cue, his voice boomed out into the cave I’d chosen to retreat to.

“CALEB!”

Rocks all around me began to tremble as if they too could sense the fury in his voice. The walls of the cave cracked and began to collapse in on themselves, meaning I had to move. Jumping from the hammock, I quickly grasped hold of my satchel, looping it around my neck as I dashed out from my hiding spot. I dodged falling rocks and stalactites as they crashed around me, piercing even more cracks and fractures into the hard stone. I ran as fast as I could, even using my increased speed to boost my escape, but the sounds of everything around me being destroyed filled my ears until finally, I ran out into the blaring light of the flame we here in Hell called the ‘Sun’. It wasn’t the same as the one the Living’s had, but as a makeshift version, it sure was f*****g bright.

As I looked back at my cave, now a pile of rocks and rubble, I growled in anger. This cave had become a place in which I’d seek sanctuary when I couldn’t deal with the pressures of the life that had been handed to me. No one, not even Jules knew about much this place meant to me. So for Dad to have ruined it completely into ashes and dirt as he had just done, really riled me up.

I knew Dad could have just called out to me telepathically like he did with the rest of my siblings whenever he needed to speak with us, or in my case, blast me down for yet another thing I’d done wrong.

But I also knew that if he had, then he wouldn’t have been able to show his followers and lowly servants just who was in control.

Sighing, I pictured myself in his office, the dark, blood red chamber Dad had claimed as his own many, many, many years ago when he’d first been banished here. I thought of the black roses growing up the walls that that adorned the window which looked out upon the desolate wasteland we called home, where the vines looped in and out of the bare curtain pole like a parasite clinging to its host. No light shone through however, for the light of the ‘Sun’ we had here didn’t reach as far as father’s domains, so the only light to be found in the darkly decorated room was that of candles, which flickered all around from candlesticks on the walls, giving the entire room an eerie atmosphere. A jet black rug covered every inch of the floor, and I concentrated on the fur like texture it had, skinned from one of the lesser demons who’d defied Dad eons before my siblings and I came to rule. Whilst the roses did have their own scent, nothing could overpower the smell of Dad’s natural cologne, quite a masculine yet almost woody aroma that could suppress any other odour within in miles. The mere smell of it clung to everything it came into contact with, even me at times, but mostly the furniture which Dad spent most of his time near. It was something I was sure most Livings had tried to recreate back in their world, but even I knew nothing they whipped up with a bunch of chemicals could master something so particular and pure.

I even envied him a little for it.

When I had eventually covered every detail of the room in my mind, making it picture perfect like I’d always been taught to when teleporting, I opened my eyes to see none other than my father, the Devil, standing before me, his face a rage of flames.

No, literally. The man was engulfed in red and orange fire.

That effect was getting old.

Dad’s usually tied up black ponytail was now a tail of orange fire, slips of flames oozing off from him into the atmosphere as he looked down at me, whilst his eyes had gone completely pitch black, like a bottomless pit. His clothes were red with heat, as was his now red skin, and from the few metres I was from him, I could feel the temperature making me sweat a little.

But I was far too used to this.

Ignoring such a spectacle, I took my usual unofficial seat at his rib cage desk. I looked to my father for his lecture, resting my feet on one of the rib cage bones. I still had yet to ask where he’d got such a huge pile of bones. Dinosaur maybe?

With the Lord of the Underworld, you were never too sure.

My father looked down at me with distaste, probably because I had the cheek to sit upon his desk rather than in the chair like anyone else in their right mind would do instantly, fearful for what the King of the Hell would do them upon disobedience.

I’d seen him in action before, torturing those who didn’t do as they were told. It usually ended with those souls being slowly and horrendously having their limbs separated from their body piece by piece, or being drowned repeatedly in the many rivers that flowed through this realm. And then, if he was feeling up to it, he might even go as far as to actually but you in a permanent prison in which your worst fears were played out for you until you slowly went mad.

Many would call my father evil.

They weren’t wrong.

Yet for me, I spent so much time under scrutiny from my so-called Dad that none of this bothered me, and the spot where I was currently sitting may as well have had my name carved into it.

Hey, that wasn’t even a bad idea.

All I would need was a chisel-

“Caleb.”

-A hammer-

“Caleb.”

-And good concentration-

“CALEB!” my father roared, the flames dousing his body spreading uncontrollably until the entire room was alight. I stared at him as the flames around us spread like wildfire, catching the curtains, the rug, the ornaments, until slowly, it was all reduced to a pile of ashes. The only things left was the desk and chairs.

My father narrowed his eyes at me.

With a sigh, he walked away from me to look out onto the land from his window, mumbling a few ancient words under his breath. A few moments later, the freshly made ashes began to glow, and as if by magic, the damage that had been caused began to slowly undo itself, the curtains reforming and the roses regrowing. However not once during what most would call this miraculous display did I take my eyes of Dad, who by the way, was still simmering a little glow of fire around him. He paused at the window once everything was finally restored, his eyes having melted from the pure black to their usual red in order for him to appear almost human life. The flames burning from his skin even smouldered a little, as if to show him calming down.

But I knew better.

The second the flames coating his body began to die, I knew what he was building up to- he was waiting for the right moment when he could make me cower before him after he booms my punishment at me. I’d been in this situation enough times to know this tiresome procedure.

“How is it that after eighteen years of constant and consistent training-”

Years I never agreed upon.

“After endless amounts of punishments and precautions-”

Punishments most parents wouldn’t even dream of bestowing on their own flesh and blood.

“After me telling you over and over again-”

Well once more never hurt anyone.

He paced around, stressing individual words as if they would make a difference in today’s outcome. I gripped the side of my chair tightly- this was it.

Dad’s eyes had grown pure black again.

Under my breath, I counted.

“Three.”

The roses wilted.

“Two.”

The ground began to shake.

“One-”

Here we go.

“THAT YOU STILL MANAGE TO DISGRACE AND EMBARRASS ME AND THIS FAMILY?” he thundered, the seemingly meek flames exploding so much they stretched from Dad’s body to the interior of the room, burning everything they touched again so the recreating a few moments ago had all been for nought. Again gone were the roses, their tightly wrapped vines and the wooden curtain pole. The rug was now nothing more than a piece of singed fabric that now barely covered the shadow of the desk as opposed to the entire floor. Even the table began to take some damage now, so much that I actually jumped from it in case the fire took hold of me too.

Not that I couldn’t handle it.

I just really liked this suit and couldn’t be bothered having another soul sent to the Living World to fetch me a new one.

Chuckling darkly under my breath, I managed to make my smirk known to my father when I saw him look around the room in disbelief, as if he hadn’t known his powers could do this for a second time in one day. Taking in the new interior, it was sure to say that the room was now far beyond simply recreating.

But please, this wasn’t the first time he’d had to redecorate after having a go at me. Even that demon skin rug had been re-patched and renewed over the years.

This only outraged him more.

“CALEB, YOU B*****D!” He screeched, using his un-human strength to take hold of my collar and throw me against the closed doors of his throne room. They burst open when my body collided with them, only for me to be sent flying into the Valley of the Dead.

I practically crashed into the listening-in audience.

Suddenly I felt people scramble up from beneath me, desperate to get away from me in case Dad lashed out and they got caught in the cross fire.

When I finally recomposed myself, dusting down my black suit and gliding fingers through my now misshaped hair, I was quite surprised to see the crowd that gathered: I’d been barely a few minutes in Dad’s throne room, but nearly half of Hell had gathered to see yet another one of mine and Dad’s fights. At the front of the crowd I saw my siblings. They stood there, all eleven of them, burning me alive with their glares.

Even Jules, the second youngest and our only sister, who I’d come to adore and trust with my very existence, threw me an unimpressed expression.

I frowned. I had expected more from her.

“You are the son that the fates chose as the new Grim Reaper!” Dad shouted, his voice much louder now since he had an audience. Like the rest of my so-called family, Dad loved the attention he received from his grand gang of lackeys. He never missed his chance to perform to them, especially when I was co-starring.

He stepped out form his room, raising his voice even more now he knew he had a full house of an audience. “You are the one the only one suited for the job is what they keep telling me- So why is it you cannot DO AS YOU ARE F*****G TOLD?!”

I rolled my eyes.

It’s not like I asked for this.

Little did everyone know, I’d have been perfectly content with just watching the days go by, minding my own business and having as little to do with the affairs of the Living world as possible, maybe having been chosen to do what my other siblings did.

But no, I had to go and get picked out as the prodigy son, the only demon who could ferry souls from the Living world to the Underworld, deciding who lived and who died in my little game of Life or Death.

But I didn’t want any of it.

The crowd, gluttony having been the biggest sin for most, cheered louder as they grew hungry for more. A chant rose up among them as they yelled for my punishment to be dished out, for me to be beaten or tortured or even dethroned.

Bunch of life-sucking freaks. They’d never change.

I could still remember the first time I’d pissed Dad off: it had been over something as stupid as me over-feeding Cerberus, our pet hellhound. Out of all my siblings, Dad knew that each of the heads warmed up to me and would bow down to my confidence, so he’d allowed me to watch over the Gate to the Underworld with them. But they’d started giving me puppy-dog eyes, and no one could resist that. So I let them feed on one too many sinful humans, which Dad hadn’t been so pleased about. I’d been black and blue and burnt for nearly two weeks, even after Jules had treated me with her special healing ointment, the one she wasn’t supposed to have.

The perks of being the son of Hades meant I was immortal and couldn’t die. The downfalls were that I could be tortured over and over again until either I as the victim or Dad as the torturer, grew bored. Unfortunately for me, Dad never grew bored.

Ever since then, I’d been his punching bag whenever I slipped up. At first it had been scary and I’d feared my own father, but one day I decided I’d had enough. I decided I wanted to push this b*****d to his limits, show him up in front of his adoring fans. In the end, taking a few beatings every now and then became kind of fun. It couldn’t get any worse anyway: I was already in Hell.

Dad looked down at me, but his expression dazzled me. He didn’t look angry... he looked disappointed.

His features weren’t twisted like usual, and his skin was no longer burning red. His hair was no longer aflame, and even his eyes had returned to their usual state.

It was a look I rarely saw when it came to me.

“Get up Caleb,” he ordered, his voice low. When I didn’t abide by him straight away, he had two of his Hell Guards rip me to my feet. While I was tall, Dad stretched a whole two feet over me, his demon height putting him at nearly eight foot. I felt somewhat intimidated all of a sudden.

The Valley of the Undead was a place that to me, had begun to resemble the Coliseum over the years, especially the centre. Not that it had rows of seats circled around a pit with a dungeon for lions and slaves, but that columns of various sized buildings and structures all stood heftily around a large patch of open land. Souls and other demons would perch upon them as they looked down at my father and me, eager for him to devour whatever confidence and spunk I had in me this time like it was for their entertainment. To be honest, Dad’s office may as well have acted as the dungeon, me being the slave that would always get back up, and Dad acting as the lion who was always hungry for more.

It wasn’t as if anyone else ever faced the wrath of my father.

No, that side of him was basically only reserved for me.

How lucky was I?

“I want you to tell everyone here why they’re here, why I’m going to punish you this time,” he demanded. He gestured to the growing crowd, lowering his hand once he reached the rest of my family. Out of all of them, Jules looked the most worried. I could tell by the blue tint that was beginning to take over her hair.

I just laughed, clearly not understanding what Dad was getting at. He’d never made me do this before, but I guessed it was another performance technique, to get the audience tense and excited. Or maybe he was trying to embarrass me, maybe since he’d realised mental abuse might work better than physical.

Looking up at them all, all a bundle of ranging emotions, it seemed to be working- so I decided to play along.

“I went against orders,” I told them gleefully. If they were all so desperate for a show, then that was what they were going to be provided with, courtesy of moi. “I was supposed to get rid of a human, but I got lazy and decided I couldn’t be fucked.”

To be perfectly honest, I had no idea if that was even the case. Sure, I’d woken up and had a few ideas, and I had heard the souls talking about my defiance, but what if Dad had found something entirely different to pick on me for. He’d said something about me not following orders, something to do with me being the grim reaper, so maybe I was right. Whatever it was, I didn’t care.

I did what I wanted, when I pleased. As if something as this would change that.

I looked up to Dad for his next move, but to my surprise, he only shook his head

No?

What was he playing at?

He only smirked, matching my signature grin, the one I did when I knew I’d won.

Being on the receiving end, I was now regretting my prior actions.

“Go on Caleb,” he jeered, coming over and poking me even. Souls around us giggled, and more and more people were gathering around us, even down in the pit because the roofs of surrounding building were full. There were sinners perched on the statues, the gargoyles, even the bars and strip clubs of the Valley. Each of their eyes were red with excitement. They matched Dad’s.

“Tell them why that pathetic human girl is still wondering that pitiful world?”

My breath hitched.

Suddenly, I realised that he knew. He knew.

But how?!

Only I, Caleb Grim, twelfth descended of the Underworld King, knew why the human girl had escaped death’s lifeless touch. Only I knew why she was the only survivor of the current Grim Reaper.

No one else could look in at my files, the paperwork I filled out when I took another life. Nor was anyone present when the ferry rode in, and she wasn’t a passenger aboard that vessel. No one else was even able to look into the orbs that covered the walls of my office, the orbs that allowed me to view whoever I desired whenever I deemed it fit. No one else knew that since a few months ago, they’d all been focused on her.

And then, as you do at a crucial moment in time when the world- or in my case the realm- is against you, I remembered something.

I’d told Jules.

I twisted my head to face my only sister, my features full of complete rage as my eyes sought out the only one in my family who I’d trusted. The only person in the world I had actually considered family.

One of my ten brothers pushed her into the limelight, much to her dismay and distaste. Her soft eyes rested on mine, and her blue hair darkened to black and grew more intense like her worry. I gritted my teeth in disgust.

I spat at her. “You f*****g b***h.”

Her eyes shone with tears as she mouthed the words ‘I’m sorry’ to me, but nothing she could say right now would earn back the connection we’d shared.

Picking up on this, Dad carried on with the show. I’d played right into his hands.

“My youngest son has committed the unthinkable,” he told the crowd. “He’s fallen in love with a Living!”

I spun at the word ‘love’ as the crowd ooh'd and ahh'd. They were absolutely loving this.

Loved? I didn't love the Living, I barely knew her. It had been a crazy spur of the moment when I'd decided that she wasn't ready to have the life stripped from her bones and dragged to hell for no reason. I'd admit, I'd shown a flicker of humanity doing such a careless thing, and of course watching her constantly throughout the time I’d known her name did board-line stalker activity, but it didn't mean I was in love with her. She was a human. A Living. I was a Prince of Darkness, the new Grim Reaper. I was Death itself.

And I wasn't capable of love.

 But clearly Dad thought otherwise, because I was turned around by the guards on Dad's command, only to be faced with my nightmare. The void.

“Caleb,” Dad said, now behind me with his claw hands on my shoulders. He was pushing me slowly to the purple hole, the vacuum of space sucking me in. I struggled against the grips of the guards and my father but not even my increased strength could help me here. I was facing the end of my reign, the end of my own era.

The large black portal roared as I was pushed closer to it, causing the ground to shake beneath us as cracks split the floor apart. Everyone screamed and shouted as the quake ruptured our surroundings, splitting buildings, shattering glass and causing everyone to scream. I myself felt my confidence shift when the ground split, separating Dad, the guards and me from the rest of the Valley.

I was really on my own in this, wasn’t I?

Those who were thrown into the void never came back alive. If you were thrown in, you were sent to another dimension, another world. There was no escape, at least not back to Hell.

Death was the only ticket back to the underworld.

He wouldn’t, would he?

“Caleb," My father said with pitiful eyes as I pleaded to him for mercy with mine.

Sure, I could kill a few million humans a day and not break a sweat, or have every single last bone in my body broken from torture- yet being sent away- being banished from my home was unbearable to even think of. I didn't want this, I couldn't handle this. I wouldn’t last a day away from home, away from everything I knew, everything I’d come to understand.

I hadn’t wanted to be chosen to play the role I’d already been given, so what made anyone think I could handle being literally thrown into another one.

But what I could and couldn't handle didn't matter anymore. There was no going back.

"As punishment Caleb,” my father sneered, gripping my shoulder harshly. I looked from him to Jules who had tears in her dark eyes, but regardless of the mistakes my dear sister may or may not have made, it was costing me my very existence as the Demon of Death. My father just laughed.

“I’m striping you of your Grim title and dooming you to spend your eternity in the world of mortals.” The crowd's cheers roared up, and in the not so far off distance, I heard Jules scream out my name in apology.

Before I could stop him, Dad threw me forward.

“No!” I shouted, losing my balance at the edge. He was banishing me, banishing me to the realm of the Living! He couldn’t, he-

With no time to contemplate what was happening, I lost my footing and was being sucked into a much more worse hell than home.