Luna from Hell

Chapter 4: Deal with The Devil

*Ariel Levine*

I woke up with a gasp, the sound tearing through the stillness like a blade through silk. My heart raced as I instinctively pressed my hand to my chest, where the memory of a dark, agonizing pain lingered—the horrific moment when my heart had been ripped from my body. My fingers brushed against the fabric of my tunic, and a wave of relief washed over me. It was intact. I wasn't dead in that kind of way. A shaky breath escaped my lips as I attempted to reconcile this miraculous realization with the gnawing memory of my violent end.

But as reality settled in like fog over a quiet lake, I became painfully aware that my surroundings were unfamiliar—too exquisite, too surreal for a world I could trust. I was lying on soft grass that felt almost lush and sinfully inviting beneath me. Bursts of flowers—vivid reds, deep purples, ethereal whites—bloomed around me, carpeting the earth. Their sweet fragrances danced softly in the breeze, swirling the air with a tantalizing allure I couldn't ignore. I pushed myself up, the moisture from the grass clinging to my palms, and surveyed my surroundings with apprehension.

"Where am I?" The words slipped from my lips, a whisper quivering in uncertainty. Had I crossed over to the afterlife? Was this heaven?

I glanced around at the idyllic garden, a scene so vibrantly alive it felt like a dream. A canopy of bright blue sky arched overhead, filtered through wispy clouds that moaned and drew soft shapes, while the golden sunlight bathed everything in a warm glow. It was the kind of place where you'd expect laughter and joy, where life flourished so effortlessly. My heart fluttered in hope as I remembered the tales of the Moon Goddess and her banquet of celestial delights.

"Is anyone there?" I called into the silence, my voice breaking the lull. The soft rustle of leaves was my only answer, mocking even. I felt like a ghost haunting a world I had yet to understand. A shudder ran through me as echoes of my last moments threatened to creep back into the forefront of my thoughts. I had lost everything: my life, my love, my purpose. Would I forever roam this garden, meandering down paths of regret?

Pushing those morbid thoughts aside, I forced my legs to move, and I took a tentative step forward. "Okay, Ariel, just breathe," I murmured to myself, brushing an unruly strand of hair from my face. "It's just a garden. A really beautiful garden."

As I wandered further, the gardens shifted in color and fragrance, a sensory dance dazzling my senses. I felt a tugging at my core, an inexplicable pull that urged me in one specific direction. I couldn't ignore it—I needed to find out where this path led.

The garden grew denser, the air heavier with the scent of blooming flowers intermingled with something tantalizingly sweet yet elusive, promising secrets hidden just beyond the petals. "Can there really be something or someone waiting for me?" I whispered, trying to balance the fragile scales of fear and hope in my heart.

And then I spotted it: a shimmering pond nestled within a grove, the surface glistening like a sheet of polished glass, alive with flickers of light beneath the water. Awestruck, I approached, mesmerized by the sight. A woman with hair flowing like the golden rays of the sun leaned over the pond, dotted in sunlight flecks as if she were woven from the very essence of this garden. It felt like fate had orchestrated this moment just for me.

"Moon Goddess," I whispered her name in joy, walking towards her, happy that I would finally be reunited with our mother creator in peace and love.

But as I drew closer, transfixed by the sight of the woman and her radiant companion, a golden wolf, an even deeper realization smothered me. "This wolf... she's my wolf..." I choked the words out, the truth stabbing through me with surprising force. "But she never came for me!"

The woman looked up, and those bright, ethereal eyes captivated me, glimmering with wisdom that felt as ancient as time itself.

"I am Rhiannon, and yes, this is your wolf; her name is Tristine," she stated, her voice a melodious lilt that wrapped around me like silk. Upon hearing this, joy surged through me, intertwining with a sense of disbelief. I had finally found her.

I stepped closer, nearly trembling with excitement yet tinged with fear. "I—I thought I would find you in Arcadia. I thought I had finally come home."

But as Rhiannon motioned for me to approach, the beautiful illusion that coated this encounter began to unravel. I found myself standing on the precipice of hope and despair.

"This is not Arcadia," she said, her tone softening but firm. "This is a Void, a space between worlds." Her gaze became piercing, and for a fleeting moment, the joy that had filled my chest dimmed slightly. "You were not granted entry into heaven.

A jolt of confusion whipped through me like a whirlwind. "What do you mean, not granted?" The ground beneath me felt unsteady, each word she spoke reverberating in my chest like an echo from a distant past. "After everything I've gone through, how can this be my fate?"

A flicker of sympathy danced in her eyes—a mirror of stormy emotions that swirled within me. Their depths hinted at an understanding, perhaps even acknowledgment of my struggles, but it did little to quell the rising tide of anger within.

"I've suffered endlessly, fought fiercely to survive, and in the end, I died—only to find myself trapped here? I deserve more than this!" My voice trembled with the rawness of my grief, the dam of pain cracking open.

"You are here not to dwell in despair, Ariel," Rhiannon continued, her voice steady, cutting through my chaotic thoughts. "You are here to face a choice." She stroked the head of my she-wolf, who was looking at me with her trusting eyes. "Let her be free and enter Arcadia, or damn her to the life of forever pain."

A choice. My heart sank at the weight of those words. The sacredness of choice twisted into a burden too heavy for me to bear.

I stared at Tristine, the wolf that had never found me, the bond we were meant to share, and every hope I'd clung to was shattered in an instant. "You mean I have to sever my ties with her? You want me to abandon my only companion?"

Pain shot through me as the words clung to my throat like choking vines. "You were supposed to be my guide, my refuge, Rhiannon! How can you ask me to let go of the one thing I had left?"

"Sometimes, to preserve what is most important, one must learn to release."

"Release," I spat bitterly. "What do you know about release? You've lived in divinity while I've clawed my way through hell!"

Her gaze remained calm, offering no rebuttal, but the weight of my accusations hung there—a specter in the air heavy like the muted sunlight filtering through the trees. Despair fought against indignation as realization sank deeper into my consciousness. This garden, this Void—it wasn't a sanctuary. It was a test.

As I struggled against the tides of sorrow, a fire ignited within me. "No, I refuse to be trapped here! If it means severing my ties, then you will have to drag me kicking and screaming out! I won't let go of her."

But even as I declared my defiance, I felt the corners of my resolve snip and fray, reality smacking against the raw wounds of my heart. The choice was not mine alone; it was entwined with years of pain, joy, and an unyielding bond that could either shatter or set us both free.

As I stood amidst beautiful horrors, torn between despair and defiance, I suddenly understood—what I chose next could reshape the fabric of my existence. And in that moment of revelation, I had to ask myself: Would I allow grief to dictate my fate, or would I embrace the unknown?

"Show me what I must do, then," I declared, fighting to keep my composure. "I refuse to be a ghost any longer."

As Rhiannon's smile illuminated the eerie landscape, the air around me shivered with anticipation, and an electric charge pulsed through my veins. Before she could utter another word, the atmosphere shifted violently, thickening in a way that felt almost sentient. A rush of hot wind whipped around me, tugging at my hair like a possessive lover, swirling with scents that ignited something primal in my gut—temptation, alluring danger, and a smoldering desire that tinged my thoughts with dark hues.

I barely had time to take a breath before everything began to spin, blurring the soft greens and golds of the garden. Panic flared in my chest, yet an inexplicable draw pulled me deeper into the chaos. I heard the deep, velvety timbre of a man's voice, resonating through the whirlwind, "I can undo everything bad that's happened to you."

Gasping, I turned instinctively, my heart pounding in my ears. There, right behind me, stood a figure, tall and clad in a darkness that consumed the light. My breath caught as I took in the full sight of him: reddish skin marred with scars, long raven hair cascading like shadows, and two glowing yellow eyes that pierced through the haze of confusion. Atop his head, a twisted horn jutted out, a mark of otherworldly power—a devil—a real, breathing devil.

Rhiannon's face twisted in horror, and I could see Tristine clawing frantically at the barrier that separated us, her loyalty palpable in the air. But despite their distress, I couldn't shake the allure of the figure before me; he radiated a primal magnetism, a promise of strength that tugged at the deepest recesses of my longing.

"You're here for revenge," he said, his voice smooth like velvet, wrapping around my heart. "I can make you powerful, send you back to claim what's yours."

The twist of betrayal I felt looking back at Tristine was sharp, like a knife in my gut. She had never abandoned me, yet there I was, tempted by the devil's whisper. "Why would you do this for me?" I managed to ask, my voice trembling as I fought against the allure of his proposition.

The devil chuckled softly, the sound dark and intoxicating. "Because, dear Ariel, I sense the storm within you—a desire for retribution, for justice against those who wronged you. You can have it all. But there is always a price."

"What do you want?" I breathed, suddenly aware of the thickness of the air around us, solidifying like a warning. I was so sick of being trapped in cycles of pain; if he could truly send me back, then I'd pay whatever cost was necessary.

He leaned in, close enough that I could feel his warmth; it was enticing and repulsive all at once. "Someone in your world will come for you. Collect the price. Nothing too big, but binding enough to tie you to this contract."

My heart raced as the weight of his words settled in. A binding contract—what did that mean for my soul, for my power? But standing in front of me was a means to escape this Void, this purgatory—a way to reclaim everything I had lost.

"Fine," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "I agree."

The devil's eyes gleamed with a predatory satisfaction, a smirk curling his lips. Slowly, he leaned in closer, and I could hear the heartbeat of the world around us fade into silence, leaving only my pulse hammering through my ears. Then, without warning, he pressed his lips to mine.

A searing fire ignited where we touched—burning, consuming. It was both thrilling and painful, a raw ache that consumed my body. I felt the heat bleed into me, filling every crevice with something guttural and dark, igniting my buried rage and sorrow until they writhed together into a tempest.

I fell to the ground, the raw intensity overwhelming me as the pain twisted through my limbs. My body convulsed as I cried out, the agony clawing at my insides like a ravenous beast. The devil loomed above me, his dark figure casting an ominous shadow, watching as I writhed and struggled beneath the weight of an inferno that felt both liberating and terrifying.

"Embrace it," he urged, his voice drenched in a mix of persuasion and taunt. "Let the pain flow through you, for it is the only way you will rise anew."

Tears streamed down my face, but I couldn't decide whether they were born of pain or the heartbreak of betrayal. Tristine's image flickered in my mind, her loyalty haunting me, clawing at the remnants of my resolve. I felt the rupture of our bond, the very tether that had pulled me toward her, fraying with each agonizing moment.

Struggling to breathe, I felt the darkness pushing against the barriers of my heart. I refused to be a ghost any longer, but the cost—oh, the cost. It loomed over me like a specter, promising so much yet leaving shadows lurking at the edges.

The last gasp of breath slipped from my lips, and as the world dissolved into overwhelming darkness, I was left to ponder a profound question: what kind of power would rise from the ashes of my shattered soul? And more importantly, would I still be myself when I finally emerged from the shadows, or would I be something entirely new? As I drifted through the void, I realized that this transformation was not the end, but the beginning of a new chapter within me.