The Fallen

Chapter 8

I had no idea how long I'd been cooped up in this room, waiting for Samael to wake up.

It could have been hours, or days. The only measure of time I had was how many meals Abbadon dropped by for me to eat. Six so far, and each time I was surprised by how decent the food in hell actually was. I was expecting dark goo and charred pieces, but I got nothing of the sort. The food brought with it a sense of normalcy that felt eerie in this place, the pancakes drenched in maple syrup and the pepperoni pizza lulling me into a fake calmness.
But despite the warm welcome and the caring demon, my mind was restless and my body was exhausted. A million questions bounced through my head, the memories of the first night I met Samael playing on a loop. He wasn't doing any better. No longer bleeding or groaning, he became an unmoving statue on the bed, lying there for hours on end. I did what I could to make him comfortable, wiping his sweat and adjusting his pillows, but my helplessness was starting to drive me insane. I hated not being able to help him, not being able to leave this room or to get someone other than Abbadon to talk to me. A few hours in hell and I had already started to feel trapped, pacing around the room in a desperate attempt to work this anxious energy out of my system .
It wasn't long before that stopped working, and I sat at the edge of the bed, staring at the shadows cast across the room. The candlelight never died, the flames burning on and on, casting a warm golden glow on Samael’s ashy form. There was nothing for me to do, no books to read or movies to take my mind off of my surroundings. Every now and then, a loud, anguished scream would erupt outside the door, reminding me exactly of where I was.
I dragged my hand through my hair, my greasy locks sending a shiver of disgust through me. Being in hell and taking care of a comatose angel, showering was not on top of my to do list, and it was starting to catch up to me. Huffing, I strode to the door, determined to untangle the mess I found myself in one way or another. If Samael and Abbadon refused to talk, there was bound to be a chatty demon in hell who was willing to fill me in. Or at the very least, I could find a shower.

Twisting the knob, I looked back at Samael’s unmoving form. I hated leaving him like that, but if I didn't get answers soon I would lose my mind.

The icy corridor was deserted, the sudden drop in temperature made my teeth chatter. I rubbed my hands up and down my arms, taking tentative steps forward. I didn't know whether to feel relieved or worried that no one seemed to be around, but as my footsteps echoed across the frozen walls, I couldn't help the trepidation that climbed up my spine.
At the end of the hall, the road broke into three paths. Right in front of me, a stone road shrouded in darkness stared back at me and my stomach dropped as I looked into the void that lay beyond. To my right, a stone staircase reached above, the sound of tortured screams, sizzling flames and cracking whips trickled down it. That must lead to the top levels, the ones Abbadon dragged us through when we came here however long ago.
And to my left, another set of stairs reached down. I was under the impression that there were only seven layers to hell, this icy corridor being the final one, yet this staircase led even further down. Nothing but silence rose from that side, and while I was very tempted to check it out, I had to think about my options. I was looking for answers, for someone who was willing to talk to me. I had no idea where Abbadon went, not that she was willing to tell me anything, but she was the only friendly face in this haunted world, and I missed her company. The stairs leading down were awfully quiet, and it seemed like the place was deserted. The path directly in front of me didn't seem like a good idea either. It was dark and menacing, and even the thought of walking down that road made me want to run back to Samael’s room and lock myself in. I shook my head, steeling my nerves. I couldn't go back, not without something useful. I bit my lower lip as I looked at the stairs to my right. Despite the unsettling noises and the rotten smell, it seemed that path was the only option if I wanted to find a living being to talk to. Sighing, I headed towards it, clamping a sweaty palm over my nose to shield me from the smell.