And so here I am. Years later and still with him. You expect a fairytale? Nah. Not quite. I live in hell. How much fun could that possibly be? Aleron is my claim to sanity. Elizabeth my link to my original plane of existence.
Did you expect a big white wedding with flowers and a poofy dress? Not quite. A marriage is a union blessed by god.
Aleron and I have a union overseen by Lucifer himself. An honor, I am told. I am also told there was a ceremony involved. I was too busy rationalizing…and pinching myself…to now be able to recall much of it.
We make our home on one of the first levels of hell. With the philosophers. Dante was never so right as the day I arrived. I….I have met Virgil. I speak to him often. Homer, the blind poet, is here too. Though he is more pretentious that Virgil.
He seemed pleased I had read The Aeneid, though he continues to be bitterly disappointed that it was published at all. He never finished it….but I know how it was to have ended.
It's strange to speak with historical figures. I won't lie to you. It's disconcerting. The people we learned so much about in school…they exist. They truly do.
I don't like it. It's strange. It's awkward. It makes me feel horribly inferior.
Why do I continue to socialize with them, you ask?
In turn I ask you what choice I have.
When Aleron is gone (I don't ask what he does…to be honest, I'd rather not know.) I have no one to speak with. And I have always been a social creature.
You suggest befriending the other demons? Ah well. After being burned by one, stabbed by another, and nearly killed by a third, I have learned that steering clear of them is a wise choice. Until I learn my way around a bit better, that is.
I hear there are other women like me here. I have met one or two. Drawn, haunted women. I wonder if I look like them now.
You may notice that my exuberance and general cheerfulness is gone.
It isn't. It's just….harder to draw forth. The pervading gloom in this place isn't conductive for good spirits and fun parties and chocolate cakes and colored streamers. What I wouldn't do for one of Laura's chocolate cakes.
Oh! I may as well mention that I am still in almost regular contact with Laura. Which has gotten her in a bit of trouble. She is more accepting than society is, you see. So now I visit her at an insane asylum. Of course, they don't call it that….but it is what it is. The good news is, she's as sane as she ever was….whatever that may tell you.
She has the entire place wrapped around her finger. They're slightly afraid of her. Which is why she is now spoiling my cat. Angel helps her run the place. It's amusing to watch, it really is. The two of them striding down sterilized hallways side by side is a view to be admired.
I have a hellhound now. As of yesterday. A hellpuppy, rather. He's a cute little thing. All smoke and shadow with soul-scorching eyes.
Yeah. Real cute.
I named him Jordan. For Michael.
I'm hoping there will be a resemblance some day. But, from the dirty looks Jordan's been casting me every time I look his way, I'm doubting that it'll happen.
So I pissed off another denizen of the underworld.
But he likes me. For which I should be grateful, I suppose. He is kinda cute in his own touch-me-and-I-rip-your-throat-out kind of way. I'm hoping he'll grow out of it. Elizabeth tells me to not get my hopes up and pets him almost as if she's proud of his behavior. He bit Aristotle, if you'll believe it.
I had to bake him a pie to get out of it.
One perk of living in hell – you develop a hobby or lose your mind. I took up baking with disastrous results.
Now I'm pretty good, though. Haven't burned anything important in a long time. Curtains and floors don't count.
I spoke to Fred recently. She's a hell of a woman. No pun intended, as she is not in hell. She is in Bulgaria.
Yes, you read that right. Bulgaria. A honeymoon of sorts. After that she'll be somewhere in Canada. I always knew she'd land on her feet.
Or on someone's feet.
Her husband is absolutely smitten. And absolutely divine.
In the best possible way.
I keep forgetting that it's a curse here.
But I digress.
My original point was simple.
Don't play games with demons.
You may end up talking to dead people for all eternity.
A/N: Well that's it then, isn't it? We're done here. Well. Umm. I should have something new up in a little bit. I promise. Sometime next week sound good? I think so. Now to start on the story that's been running circles in my mind. Reviews really are appreciated...the last chapter was a total disappointment...I should have held out for more, I know, but...yeah. I think I'm done here. Good knowing y'all!! 3