The place was eerie. Ahead stretched a city of burnt, rust-covered buildings, heaps of trash, and gray people aimlessly wandering around. Their faces wore a petrified expression. No emotions or thoughts. Just emptiness that made one feel out of place.
– This place we call "The Border." It separates the heart of Abaddon, where the dark reside, from what you saw on the way, – the man explained.
Samael boldly took the girl by the hand and led her forward. Obviously, here they didn't have to worry about disguises and could feel confident.
– And what did I see on the way? – she asked, peering at the passersby.
They moved slowly, chaotically, their eyes as if drowning in emptiness. She wished to approach them, shake them by the shoulders, and ask: what's wrong with you?!
– Eternal torment, suffering. Everyone gets what they desire.
– So they desire? – Lina was taken aback. – Isn’t it what they deserve? "Each will be repaid for their deeds."
– No. Everyone gets what they desire, – the dark one replied calmly, warming the cold palm of the girl with the heat of his hand. – There’s no grand judgment determining how many bad or good deeds one has done in life. Nobody finds it interesting to deal with that. In fact, souls choose their own path after death. If they believe it’s the way to Elysium, then they go there. If they're convinced they deserve suffering, then they will suffer.
– And those on the border, what about them? – Lina continued to inquire. – They seem not to suffer, but they also don’t look happy.
– They are at a crossroads. When they were alive, they were convinced there were no otherworldly dimensions. They believed souls wandered aimlessly in the world... So they got what they believed in.
– How dreadful. Can’t they ever reach Elysium?
– They can, but they don’t want to. Believe me, the dark don’t control the souls of mortals. Unless they were prominent figures. Only then are they allowed to a new life in Abaddon. Just like the Prophet. He sits under his father’s watch and doesn’t wander around who knows where, – Sam explained, slowly walking through the city’s main thoroughfare.
They had already walked a considerable distance, but the scenery hadn’t changed much. Around them loomed monotonous buildings: cluttered, dilapidated, as if after a battle.
– How much longer? – Lina asked.
She wanted to leave the border as quickly as possible to no longer see the hunched figures of bewildered people.
– No, just a few turns and we’ll reach the gate.
The remainder of the journey was silent. The girl examined the ash beneath her feet and thought about the “eternal.” How interesting everything turns out... There’s no need for special institutions; just a single conscience is enough to get to where you deserve to be. After all, you cannot fool yourself. And every person is acutely aware of how much harm or good they’ve done in life.
When Samael released her hand, she realized their goal was closer than ever before. It took less than a minute for a huge gate to appear around the corner, about twenty meters high and thirty wide. Black as tar, with sharp, seemingly purposefully pointed tips, it immediately instilled fear. Next to it stood two towering figures in low-draped hoods. One held a spear, and the other a scythe in their movements.
Lina felt with her very being that the dialogue would not be simple. The faces beneath the darkness of the hoods were not visible, the only thing clearly seen were their hands. Long, thin fingers, all covered in sores and open festering wounds. The claws twisted in various directions had a sickly greenish hue. The girl was terrified to imagine what the guardians really looked like.
– Who are you? – asked the figure with the scythe when they finally stood before the gate.
A nauseating smell of rotting flesh hit her nose. Now Lina regretted having perceived the aroma from the white-toothed handsome so negatively.
– I brought the subdued for the master, – Samael spoke emotionlessly.
He stood resolutely; not a single muscle twitched on his face, nor was there any trace of disgust or fear.
– For whom?
– Baal.
– Do you have a brand?
– Not yet; I’m new, – Samael shrugged, as if he really were a fool who had recently begun service and didn’t understand all the subtleties of the work.
The figure in the hood inhaled with a hiss.
– Strange scent. Unusual.
The being reached out a hand toward Lina. The girl froze; she wanted to leap back, to run as far away as possible, but understood she couldn’t, that she would ruin everything. So she stood firm, like a tin soldier.
The figure pulled back Lina's hood and squeezed her neck. Cold, slimy fingers touched her delicate skin, searing it. Her heart leaped out of her chest, and her soul fled somewhere to her heels. She felt how tense Samael had become. He understood perfectly well what the girl was feeling right now. However, he could do nothing.
Meanwhile, the guardian drew closer to her face and stared into her eyes.
A shadow of light fell inside the hood, and Lina saw the creature's face. Eyes sewn shut, a nose with two slits, and a wide mouth with cracked lips hanging down to the chin. From this horrific mouth dripped yellowish saliva, which wafted that unforgettable aroma.
If the girl hadn’t been paralyzed with horror, she would have screamed in disgust at the creature touching her. It seemed as if it wanted to peer into her soul, or worse – kiss her.
– She’s not an ordinary mortal, – the dark one attempted to salvage the situation. – Her distant relatives are succubi, so you feel the unusual scent. I hope you’re convinced that everything is alright, as Baal will be terribly angry if in ten minutes the subdued isn’t in his bed.
The guardian stood still for a few more moments, then his fingers unclenched, and he stepped back to his place.
– Pass through, – he rasped.
Lina barely restrained herself from sighing with relief as the gate opened and let them through. Her palms trembled from the stress they had just endured... And it was only an hour she had spent in Abaddon... What then would come next?
And then the real fun began. The city of the dark, the capital of the realm of the dead.
The streets were wide, the buildings grim and tall, designed in a Gothic style. Everything around brimmed with sinfulness and debauchery. A woman lay on a bench and sipped through a straw the blood of a young man who had plunged it into her neck, smiling and enjoying the process. Near a shop sat a portly man. Instead of a necklace, rings of smoked sausage hung around his neck, and in his hand protruded a roasted pig’s leg, which he gnawed with delight.
Subdued women and men on chains walked along the road. Bare-naked, with glazed expressions, as if under the influence of drugs. Wherever one looked, people were having sex. Under the walls of buildings, right in the middle of the street, or leaned against a lamp post. They had no differences. If a dark one wanted something, he got it immediately and without objection.
– Just a little further, – Samael whispered, giving Lina encouragement.
In response, the girl simply nodded, trying not to focus on the bacchanalia happening around.
After a few minutes, they arrived at a huge, tall building. Built from red stone, it stood out against the background of everything else in this city. Like a bloody stain in the middle of pristine snow.
Sam approached the entrance doors. In the center, instead of a regular keyhole, gaped a round hole. Without hesitation, the man shoved his finger in there. Then he waited for a few moments, and seeing the astonished expression on the girl’s face, he said:
– Behind these walls is a prison. I worked here for a long time, so I have a special level of access. My blood is the key, so if my father hasn’t managed to block the passage. Otherwise, we won’t get inside.
A few more moments passed, then something clicked inside, and the doors opened. Samael and Lina quickly stepped inside.
– So, he hasn’t managed to block it yet, – the dark one concluded. – There’s no guard here, as prisoners don’t just come out of here. But we might encounter some of the staff. They check on the prisoners from time to time. So we’ll move quickly.
The man grabbed the girl by the hand and pulled her down a long, dark corridor.
On the right and left, identical doors lined up in neat rows with serial numbers and names of the captives. “Paracelsus,” “Sigmund Rasher,” “Nero,” “Vlad Tepes,” “Adelina Rotango,” “Yarik Yasilikiy,” and many others. Eventually, they descended to the baSament floors, and having reached the last cell of the lowest floor, found the right door.
On the plaque was written briefly: “The Prophet.”
– Ready? – Sam asked, again inserting his finger into the lock.
– Is there any choice? – Lina replied, and heard the characteristic creaking of the door.