The Reaping of the Gods

Chapter 17

"No there's one more thing. Luke replies with a face that almost looks scared or something.

"And what would that be?" I was getting angry. I don't get why telling me the truth is hard. If it's bad I should know now or I'll be pissed later.

"Let's take a walk." Luke stands up and holds his hand out for me to take.

We walk to the end of the hall and then down some stairs into the basement. I'm not sure if I should be scared or not. Like it's Luke he wouldn't hurt me but also do I know that for sure?

At the bottom of the stairs is a red door, it squeeks and grinds the way an old door that doesn't get opened very much does. Inside is dark, we step inside and then by magic a long grand hallway is illuminated by torches being lit down it. A dark red rug runs the length of the hall. Luke leads me down the hall as I notice paintings. No they're portraits. Of him.....seems a little self centered. They are all him but in different eras of clothing showing his age. His true age.

"Fancy youself a model?" I ask with a quip.

"I mean I am a god." he says with a wink. I come to a painting of him in a red suit holding a gold violin. He is devilishly handsome in this picture.

"So you play the violin or is that just a prop?" I say pointing to the painting. Luke stands beside me staring at the painting.

"It's actually a fiddle. I used to love playing." Luke turns, hands behind his back, starts walking down the hall again. "But alas, I lost it in a bet a while back and have never played again."

"Seems like a silly reason to stop playing all together." I reply following behind him.

"It wasn't just about the fiddle." I just nod as if I understood because I didn't think prying would help anything and it's not my business. I'm sure I'll hear the full story at some point.

As we reach the end of the hall and the door at the end of the hall I can feel something strange. Almost like the anxiety you feel while watching a horror movie before you finally get to see the evil waiting for you. Before there's a face in my face. You know the ghosts grotesque face in the mirror as you stand up from rinsing your face. I had the sudden urge to run. I glance at Luke hoping to get some sort of reassurance that it'll be alright. But the look he gave me didn't help. He was stoic. I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"Beyond this door is something that I have been scared to tell or show you. And it may change exactly how you feel about me. "

"What could be that bad?" Unless he has a room full of corpses I don't think how I feel will change.

"It's easier to just show you." Luke lifts up his hand and knocks three times on the door. The sound of locks and chains unlocking come from the door, then one final click and the door pops open releasing a cacophony of screams. It is painful. Covering my ears I fall to the floor. Crying from the pain of their screams. I can't tell if I'm being hurt or I can just feel their hurt. It's awful. The pain quickly subsides as I hear the door slam closed and the screams stop. I hold still hoping they don't start again.

"Larissa, can you hear me?" Luke is rubbing my back and after a second or two I nod. "What happened?" he asks.

"Screams. I could hear people screaming. It was awful. What's in there Luke?" I start sobbing harder and am swooped up in his arms and held tightly.

"I'm so sorry. Most people can't hear it. Most humans can't hear it." Luke lifts me up bridal style and starts walking back down the hall. I look over his shoulder at that door. I hated that door. I didn't know if I could live in the same house as this door.

He takes me to the sitting room and lays me down on the couch before quickly leaving the room. A few minutes later he comes back with a cup of tea and sets it down on the coffee table.

I sit up and take it. Sipping it hesitantly. Gross. Hot brown garbage water. Tea is just dirt and grass in hot water. "Explain." is all I say.

Luke sighs and rubs his hand down his face. "That was the gate to hell." He looks at me and waits for my reaction. That made sense people suffering, screaming but why does he have the portal to hell in his basement.

"So you guard the gates of hell?" I ask tentatively. I know the answer but I'm hoping I'm wrong. A mere guardian of hell doesn't have portraits painted of them. At least not that many.

"No and you know that. I can see it in your eyes." Luke lifts my chin so that ours eyes meet. I know I should be scared but I'm not. I should be trying to run. But all I can think is that I'd love nothing more than to feel Luke's lips pressed against mine and other parts of me. I want to feel his lips on me, the lips of The Devil.