Devil's Toy

Chapter 9

“Stay close,” I murmured to Sandy. She nodded quickly, wings tucked tight against her back.

We stepped inside.

The tunnel began as all of Heaven’s passages did, absolutely pristine. The walls were polished white stone, glowing faintly with the Creator’s light. The floor beneath us shimmered like marble dust. The air was still, but it carried the faintest trace of sweet myrrh.

But the deeper we went, the more that comfort peeled away.

It had been ages since my last visit to these tunnels. I’d forgotten the way the path ebbed and flowed to match the destination.

The glow dimmed, shadows stretching farther with each step. The smooth walls grew uneven, cracks forming like veins across the stone’s surface. The scent shifted, too. At first the sweetness grew metallic, then sour, until an unmistakable rot clung to the air. Decay. Despair. It crawled down my throat and settled heavy in my lungs.

Sandy faltered once, her steps stuttering on one of the deeper cracks, but I kept moving.

At the first checkpoint, two Guardians stood before a gate of black iron. Their faces the perfect portrait of nothing. When I stated our purpose, collection-third level, they subtly nodded their heads in unison. The guard on the left touched the gate, and the iron melted away into mist.

The second checkpoint mirrored the first. Guardians waited, silent, eyes empty. Again, I gave the reason, and again, the gate dissolved, allowing us through.

By the time we reached the third, the walls had grown darker, coated in black tar that trickled in thin ribbons towards the floor. The air was colder here, the smell of rot so thick it coated the back of my tongue. Sandy’s breathing had turned shallow, her wings quivering no matter how tightly she tried to hold them still.

There was only one Guardian stationed here. He was unlike the others. Taller, broader, and covered in dark armor. He didn’t move until I stepped forward and repeated our purpose. Then, instead of dissolving the gate, he reached into what seemed like thin air and withdrew a familiar folded letter.

His hand extended toward me through the gate.

I accepted it carefully, my heart pounding, my fingers brushing the smooth gloss of the parchment. Without a word, the Guardian retrieved his hand and trained his gaze back to nothing.

I stared at the letter, its seal pressed deep into the wax. My name carved into it.

Sandy stared at me expectantly. But all I could do was stare down at the letter. Another letter.

“Let’s head back.” I murmured without taking my eyes off the seal.

I moved back the way we came, not waiting for Sandy. I knew she was much too frightened not to follow me.

The journey back was a blur of white tufts, erratic wings, and a nervous angel that left without uttering another word.

I sat, still staring at the seal.

I slipped my finger under the wax. It released with a soft pop. I unfolded the letter, my breath absent.

Dearest Gabrielle,

Your silence cuts deeper than any blade. I reached for you, and you left me unanswered. Do you not know how it wounds me to be ignored by the only one I have ever desired?

My love for you grows unruly, wild, consuming. The thought of your fingers brushing over these words drives me to madness. It is the closest I have felt to you in centuries, and it is not enough. Never enough. I fear in writing the previous letter, I have unleashed the flood of longing and desire I have ignored for far too long.

And yet, while you read that I starve for your presence, you allow another man to console you. His arms around you… his voice soothing you… Tell me, Gabrielle, did it feel like mine once did? Or have you forgotten the fire only I can set within you?

I’ll remind you only once more that I can give you everything. Freedom, power, devotion unending. I ache for you to choose me, to stop hiding behind vows that bind you to a master who will never love you as I do. Who has deceived you for eternities.

You knew my heart as pure. Have you lost that trust in me?

Damien’s orders will not be as smooth as your God desired.

Yours always,

LMS.