The Hollow Wars

I always knew heaven wasn’t meant for me. The idea was something I could never fully wrap my head around. When people would talk about the serenity and purity surrounding the ideology, the grace bestowed upon the angels, the tranquil bliss one would feel and experience in the presents of God, it was something my soul inherently knew it wasn’t destined for. Perhaps that is how I got to where I am now. Something about the darkness always comforted and calmed me, like when you closed your eyes and the world faded away.

The stench of blood and decay was potent. I didn’t need to open the door to know what awaited me on the other side. Still, the sight was worse than anything my imagination could have conjured. Pools of deep crimson were scattered along the cold marble floor beneath my bare feet, some of which were fully dry, most still tacky and wet as my feet skimmed through them. My eyes scanned the room around me. Every shift of my gaze was met with a new horror. Among the copious amount of blood, dismembered body parts were strewed around, left to rot, like a broken toy forgotten by some spoiled child. Bile tickled the back of my throat, begging to be set free. I refused to give them that satisfaction.

“Bring her forward.” A voice ordered from the dais, lined with seven ornate chairs. The voice called out from the far left. I kept my eyes low; the sight behind them was something I only wished to set my eyes on once and only once. I knew if I looked at it for too long, the image would be etched into my mind forever. Something I would see every time I closed my eyes. It would be there waiting to reveal itself once more.

My feet refused to move. The hand around my arm tightened as it dragged me closer, while the other forced my head back to gaze upon them. I could feel my breath hitch, my chest tighten, hear my heart nearly pound out of my chest. The naked bodies on display, hanging by thin, fragile folds of skin, draped the wall in front of me like a stained glass window of a grand cathedral. The more I looked upon it, the more gruesome and grotesque it became.

“We’ve awaited your arrival for some time now, Sabina.”

The morning light kissed my face as I gasped for air as if I had been drowning.

“A dream?” I said breathlessly to myself. My hands still shaking. Breathing in deep, I tried to calm my nerves.

“Are you well?” My mother asked, void of any real emotion or concern. A nod was my only reply. She turned back towards the window; the sun did little to soften her. Even as the light gleamed off her rich chestnut hair. She always looked so stoic, almost regal.

“Honestly, I am surprised you were even able to sleep in this sad excuse for a carriage.” Vetta groaned. Her emerald eyes flickered over me just before turning her attention to Letty. I could feel the disdain in their glare. She and Letty would always hear how much they took after our mother, how their beauty would one day surpass hers. A compliment I never received.

“Stop your fussing. We will be there any moment now.” Our mother snapped. Her attention remained unfazed. But I could feel the irritation radiating from her. And within a few passing moments, she was right. The rattling of the carriage stopped. Vetta impatiently swung the door open, sunlight swallowing her whole as she nearly jumped out with Letty close behind. They were much closer in age than I, always leaving me to fend for myself while they stuck together, only including me when it benefited them. They would risk life and limb for one another, but me? They would feed me to the wolves if it meant saving themselves.

I stepped out into the light, and as my eyes adjusted to the sun, the estate before us came into view, bleak but opulent, and as it loomed over us, every fiber of my being was screaming to run. The dread washed over me, my breath becoming short and rapid. And as our host gracefully descended the stairs, my body tensed. I could tell by the smiles and fake pleasantries that my mother and sisters weren’t seeing what I was. I could tell by the look in their eyes that what they saw was something of beauty and allure. But for me, my eyes saw the truth. The face of something wretched, of true horror.

My stomach twisted and churned at the foul smell that followed. The sight alone was overwhelming, his eyes were nothing but rotting sockets with blood still pouring out in thin streams down his face. His skin was a pale mix of blue and gray that appeared wet and slick, fading into black at his fingers that tapered into talons. His smile was lined with jagged teeth that fit one another perfectly. Every step he took closer was haunted by the sound of screaming and moans of anguish that followed him like a shadow. I could tell right away this demon was strong and powerful.

“D’Artagnan, it is so good to see you again.” My mother reached out and embraced that foul face. “These are my daughters, Letty, Vetta, and Sabina.” naming us in order of birth.

“Zema, I welcome you once more to my home.” He said, with a slight bow, as if my mother was someone of importance, something we all knew she was not. “Please come in.” He added as he led us up the stone steps still damp with the night’s rain. The double oak doors were trimmed with symmetrical swirling black iron that met in the center. And as he opened them with ease, we poured out into the grand foray. There was something beautiful in the way the dark decor intertwined with the white and silver detail hidden in every item. Twin staircases bowed out from the floor before us, up to the second level showcasing a massive amethyst chandelier.

We followed as D’Artagnan led us into one of the parlors. The room had tall windows and gray walls lined with books. My mother and sister followed eagerly and rushed to greet the man awaiting us. I paused, bracing myself just outside the door. I could hear the screaming from the moment we entered the house, the calls for salvation, the cries to end their eternal suffering. It wasn’t until D’Artagnan entered the room that the voices shifted and melded together. Intensifying. I have never been in the presents of two elite demons at the same time. I could feel my heart beating harder and harder with each breath. Was my mother testing me? Why did she not warn me? I have always just been a pawn in this fucked up game she has been playing, and now she is desperate for a way out. We all know this was a waste of time; if the Gilded Coven was unwilling to help us, what made her think the Septem Malum would.

I am on my own. That much I know, I’ve always known.