My Best Friend Wants to Steal My Perfect Fate

1
The moment my best friend, Sophia, learned my secretthat I possessed eternal life and boundless wealthshe conspired with a mystic to murder me. Their plan? To cast my soul into Hell and steal the perfect fate that was mine.
On the windswept rooftop of a skyscraper, my pleas were torn apart by the wind.
"Don't kill me, Sophia, please! You can have all the money!"
I'm terrified of dying. Truly terrified. Not just of the fall, but of what comes after. My exthe one from down belowmade a promise when I left him. If he ever saw me again, hed throw me into a cauldron of boiling oil and slice my soul to ribbons.
"Sophia, we've known each other for ten years! I've always been good to you, haven't I? Please, let me go"
"You can have everything! All the money, I swear!"
I was on my knees on the gritty concrete of the rooftop, dignity shattered, ready to smash my forehead against the ground if it would save me.
Sophias lips twisted into a cruel smirk. The sharp point of her stiletto dug under my chin, forcing my head up. "I don't just want your money, Elara. I want your endless life, too."
Her voice was a venomous whisper. "We're best friends, aren't we? What's yours is mine. And since you care so much about me, you should just give it all to me."
With that, she shot a look at the dark-robed mystic beside her.
He understood instantly. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and dragged me toward the ledge.
Thirty-three stories high. Down below, directly under me, a ritual circle glowed faintly on the pavementa trap theyd laid.
The second I hit the ground and died, their ritual would be complete. My soul would be theirs. I wouldn't even get the chance to be reborn. Sophia was making sure I couldnt come back as a vengeful ghost; she was erasing me completely.
The wind howled, a frigid blast against my face as I scrabbled desperately to pull myself back from the edge. Sophia's greed, ignited by my secret, now burned like a wildfire. She lunged forward, and together with the mystic, she kicked me off the roof.
The world became a blur of wind and city lights.
Then, a sickening CRACK exploded in my ears as my body shattered against the concrete.
When awareness returned, I was no longer flesh and blood. I was a spirit, floating in the dim expanse of the underworld. Two spectral reapers flanked me, thick, thumb-sized soul-chains clamped around my neck.
A thick, grey fog clung to everything, but the screams of the damned ahead were terrifyingly clear.
I knew this place. It was the entrance to the Gates of Hell.
I had my darling ex-husband to thank for the tour. When I'd tried to leave him, he'd dragged me here in a blind rage, trying to scare me into staying. He never actually threw me in, but now, it seemed my time had come. I was about to be annihilated.
I thrashed against the chains, my voice a desperate rasp. "This is wrong! I was murdered! I've done nothing to deserve this!"
My struggle only earned me a sharp sting. One of the reapers, a wiry one with a thin mustache, lashed out with a barbed whip from his belt.
The pain was unlike anything I'd ever felt, searing straight through to my very essence. I collapsed, too stunned to even scream.
"Listen up, lady," Moustache-Reaper sneered. "Doesn't matter who you were. Now that you're in our hands, you're finished."
Still, anything was better than being erased. I had to take a chance. What if my ex still had a shred of feeling for me? A chance at reincarnation was infinitely better than oblivion.
The thought gave me a sliver of courage. "I... I know your Lord," I stammered, my voice trembling. "I know Kaelan! I demand to see him!"
The two reapers exchanged a glance. Then another whip crack, this one so vicious it nearly split my soul in two, silencing me.
Moustache spat near my head. "Who the hell do you think you are, saying the Lord's name like that? I don't care how you learned it. You'd better shut your mouth if you don't want more of this."
Helpless, I was dragged forward like a sack of dead weight.
The other reaper, who'd been watching quietly, sounded nervous. "Hey, what if she's telling the truth? We could be in deep..."
Moustache scoffed. "Get a grip. The mystic told us she's some kind of anomaly, not even listed in the Ledger of Souls. So what if some freak knows the Lord's name? Don't be such a coward. No record, no problem. We got paid to do a job, so let's get it done before something goes wrong."
It all clicked into place. They were in on it with Sophia and her mystic. Corrupt reapers, taking bribes to destroy a soul.
The Gates of Hell loomed before us, a towering, monstrous structure that made my spirit tremble with primal fear. As the reapers chanted, the massive gates began to creak open, and my heart sank into an abyss of despair.
Suddenly, a voice cut through the fog, drawing closer.
"A new arrival? Has she been through Judgement?"
It was Silas, the Black Watcher! He knew me!
My eyes locked onto the figure emerging from the mist. "Silas..." I gasped.
Before I could say more, a hand clamped over my mouth, and I was yanked aside.
I watched in a panic as Moustache intercepted Silas, my hope slipping away. I struggled, earning another brutal kick to my lower back.
Moustache pulled out a pack of cigarettes, his face plastered with a sycophantic grin. "Silas, hey! What brings you down to this dreary gate? Here, try one of these. Fresh from the mortal world. Got a real kick."
Silas brushed some dust from his official robes, his expression annoyed. "Cut the crap. I asked you a question. Has that soul been judged?"
Moustache swallowed hard. "Yeah... yeah, of course. We wouldn't dare skip the proper channels, would we? You and your sister are run ragged up there. You should take a break. Have a smoke."
Silas took the cigarette and lit it, falling silent. The fog was too thick for him to see me clearly. Fearing this was my only chance, I bit downhardon the hand covering my mouth.
The reaper yelped in pain, his grip loosening. I scrambled towards Silas, but a leg shot out, tripping me. I fell flat, a boot pressing my face into the grimy dirt. The foul sand filled my mouth, choking me, silencing my cries.
But the commotion had caught Silass attention.
He took a few steps closer. "What's going on over there?"
The reaper whose hand I'd bitten pressed down harder, a petty act of revenge, threatening to crush my skull. "Nothing, boss. Just a feisty one. Still fighting, even at Hell's door. You know how it is. The ones who end up here are never the good ones. Don't want her filth to dirty your eyes."
Silas stopped. "Fine. Just be thorough. These types are the worst of the worst. We can't afford any mistakes. Get her inside."
As Silas turned and vanished back into the fog, my heart died with him.
After a final, groveling farewell to Silas, Moustache stormed over to me, venting his frustration with a series of vicious kicks. Unsatisfied, he raised his whip and began lashing me relentlessly.
Soon, my spiritual form was a tattered mess of wounds, barely recognizable.
Finally finished, he knelt and grabbed my chin. "You bitch," he hissed. "You almost ruined everything. Don't worry. Once you're inside, I'll be taking special care of you."
I was nothing more than a rag doll as they tossed me into the first circle of Hell.
This was the Penance of a Thousand Needles.
As far as the eye could see, countless platforms held tormented spirits, each impaled with thousands of shimmering needles, like grotesque pincushions. Their souls weren't destroyed here, only tortured, and their unending screams echoed through the cavernous space.
I drew a shuddering breath, using my last ounce of strength to force out the words. "I... really... know... Kaelan. When he finds out... what you did... he'll destroy you..."
It was a bluff, mostly. Kaelan wouldn't care if I lived or died. He probably never wanted to see me again.
Why else would he have granted me eternal life? To keep me wandering the mortal world, never aging, never dying. He was terrified I'd die and show up in his underworld, an unwelcome sight...
Once we were inside the gate, the two reapers weren't afraid of my threats anymore.
Moustache tapped my cheek condescendingly, his smile pure malice. "Quite the imagination you've got. Been watching too many mortal dramas? You really think you're worthy of our Lord's attention?"
My head lolled to the side. A wave of nausea washed over me, and I coughed up a cloud of nether energy. I felt my form grow even more transparent.
They strapped me to one of the platforms.
Moustache returned with a wicked grin, holding the instruments of torture: Soulthorns, each as long as my forearm.
"You'd better hold on tight," he purred. "There are seventeen more circles of Hell waiting for you. We're going to have so much fun."
He lifted a Soulthorn and aimed it at my thigh. "Down here, even the most stubborn souls learn to break."
The tip plunged half an inch into my spirit-flesh. The agony was blinding, and an uncontrollable tremor seized my entire body. "Aaaargh!"
Just then, a figure hurried toward us. "Stop!"
The needle was pulled out.
Gasping for breath, I forced my eyes open to see who had come. It was the warden of this circle, a man I remembered. His name was Marcus. Back when Kaelan was trying to scare me, hed been the one trying to calm him down.
"My Lord," he had said, "the young mistress is merely naive. There's no need for such anger. You wouldn't want to harm her."
Hope surged through me. I prayed that after all these years, he would still remember me. "Warden Marcus... it's me... help me..."
The journey here had left me utterly drained, my voice a broken, sandy whisper. But I knew he heard me. He stared, his eyes widening in recognition, then in absolute terror. He remembered.
Before I could feel a moment of relief, he quickly looked away, his face a mask of indifference. "A message just came from above," he announced coolly. "They want to witness this one's final destruction personally. They're on their way. You will wait."
I was stunned. Marcus... he was in on it, too?
My last hope extinguished, a bitter laugh escaped my lips.
Kaelan, oh Kaelan. Is this the underworld you rule? A place where your own underlings can deceive you, break every rule, and act with total impunity?
I never imagined Sophia would come here herself. I didn't know whether to call her bold or cowardly.
Bold, for daring to step into the realm of the dead. Cowardly, because she was so afraid of meof the loose end I representedthat she had to see me utterly destroyed before she could enjoy my money and my lifespan in peace.
Soon enough, Sophia and the mystic appeared. To enter this realm, they had temporarily left their physical bodies behind, arriving as spirits. Sophia was terrified at first, clinging to the mystic like a shadow. But when she saw how chummy he was with the local reapers, her confidence returned. After all, she was the one with the money.
She took a Soulthorn from one of the reapers and approached me, her eyes gleaming with manic excitement. "Elara, I have to thank you. If it weren't for you, I would never have known the joy of being truly rich. They say money makes the world go 'round, and it's true. With enough of it, I can even take a tour of Hell."
"You've lived long enough," she cooed. "I'll take over from here. You can rest in pieces. That way, I can finally have some peace of mind, too."
I looked at her, my gaze empty. "Was I not good to you?" I rasped. The question felt pointless as soon as I asked it. If she had a conscience, she never would have plotted this.
Sophia burst out laughing. "Hahahaha... You think you were good to me? I was your glorified maid, wearing your hand-me-downs, always standing in your shadow. Do you really call that being good to me?"
I didn't argue. You can't reason with a viper you've warmed at your hearth.
The first time I met her, it was snowing, and she was shivering in a threadbare coat. She'd come from a poor village with nothing, unable to find work. I took her in. I didn't need a maid; I was used to my solitude. But I felt sorry for her, so I gave her a job.
I always treated her like a friend. I gave her anything she asked for, and I paid her far more than any other maid would make. But gradually, she stopped seeing herself as an employee. She began to demand more and more. I suppose I was too lenient. She started to think she was my equal... or that she could replace me.
My mistake was trusting her with my secret.
My silence only fueled her rage. "Nothing to say? So you admit it, don't you? You never saw me as a friend. Now, die!"
She aimed the needle at my heart.
She really, really wanted me gone.
The reapers nearby shifted uncomfortably, but none of them moved to stop her.
The nether energy bled from my wounds, my form becoming dangerously translucent. My thoughts grew hazy. Sophia was still stabbing me, a frenzied attack, carving up my body, paying special attention to my face until it was a ruined mask.
Through the fog of pain, I thought I saw him. Kaelan. Walking towards me.
He was still as breathtakingly handsome as ever, more beautiful than any man I'd seen in my hundred years of life. His robes, dark as a starless night and embroidered with cloud patterns, spoke of absolute power. His ink-black hair framed a face of sharp, severe angles and deep, commanding eyes that could captivate a soul at a single glance.
Was it a hallucination? It had to be
He never wanted to see me again.
But why why were all the reapers dropping to their knees?
"My Lord! What brings you to this place in person?"
Marcus was panicking, his body shaking like a leaf as he prostrated himself on the ground. He knew he was doomed. Taking bribes from mortals was a capital offense. Allowing them into the underworld? Unforgivable. And now hed been caught red-handed.
The mystics face went pale. He yanked the still-frenzied Sophia away from me, and they both fell to their knees.
Kaelans gaze swept over them, each glance a physical blow.
Behind him, his Chamberlain spoke, his voice high and sharp. "Insolence! If the Lord hadn't come today, who knows what atrocities you traitors would have committed in his name!"
The two reapers who had brought me here pressed their faces to the floor, not daring to breathe.
I tried to speak, but my mind was a chaotic storm, and the sharp agony in my soul stole my voice.
Would he recognize me? And if he did... what then?
Would he save me from this nightmare? Or would he make good on his old promiseto throw me into boiling oil and slice me to ribbons?
Either way, it didn't matter. My soul was already fading
After a long, heavy silence, Kaelan finally spoke, his voice like cracking ice. "Marcus. I entrusted this first circle of Hell to your command. Is this how you perform your duties?"
At the mention of his name, Marcus began banging his head on the ground, faster and harder than I had when I begged Sophia for my life. "I was wrong, my Lord, I was wrong! It was those two reapers who brought the mortals here! I knew nothing of it! I was just about to cast them out when you arrived!"
The reapers, seeing Marcus throw them under the bus, were furious.
Moustache shot back, "This is your domain! Mortals on your turf is your failure! How dare you try to pin this on us?"
"You're the ones who found a way to take money from the living!" Marcus snarled. "I was dragged into this!"
I finally understood. Kaelan wasn't here for me. He was here because he'd discovered the corruption in his ranks. My presence was just a coincidence.
I felt like a transparent bystander, watching them tear each other apart while the mystic and Sophia trembled at the center of the storm.
Kaelan let out a cold snort. "Enough. The two mortals will not be returning. Detain them for judgment. As for the rest of you you are sentenced to the Path of Beasts. You will be reborn as animals for all eternity, never again to be human."
The verdict struck Marcus like lightning. He collapsed from his kneeling position, his face ashen and numb. The two reapers had the same look of utter devastation.
The reality of her situation finally hit Sophia. She was never going back to the mortal world.
"No!" she shrieked. "My life isn't over! Even your underworld has rules, doesn't it?!"
She couldn't bear to lose the long life and vast fortune she had stolen from me. The mystic, terrified of being associated with her, tried to pull her down.
She shoved him away and scrambled to her feet. "I'm leaving! Send me back right now!"
The mystic wouldn't dare. He just closed his eyes and played dead.
Sophia grabbed his robes, shaking him violently. "What are you waiting for?! I paid you a million dollars! Do your job! I said I want to go back now!"
She didn't know one of Kaelan's biggest triggers was loud, incessant noise.
The next second, her spiritual form flew through the air like a broken kite. As if guided by fate, she landed squarely on the table of torture instruments, her backside impaled on a cluster of Soulthorns.
The agonizing pain she had inflicted on me was now her own. Her face contorted in a mask of horror, and a piercing shriek tore from her throat.
The Chamberlain waved a hand. Other reapers swarmed forward, gagging her and pinning her to the ground.
With them dealt with, Kaelan finally turned his gaze to me.
I could feel ita cold, piercing stare.
The Chamberlain stepped forward. "Who are you? State your name."
Marcus, already facing one death sentence, wasn't about to risk another. He was terrified Kaelan would find out I'd been brought here without judgment, terrified he'd recognize me. He quickly interjected, "She's just a newly deceased soul, my Lord. None who end up here are innocent Please, don't dirty your eyes with such filth."
Kaelans brow furrowed in annoyance. The Chamberlain snapped, "He wasn't talking to you. Silence!"
I opened my mouth, but only a dry, hissing sound came out.
When no answer came, the Chamberlain approached to inspect my wounds. He shook his head grimly. "My Lord, this woman's soul is on the verge of dissipating."
Kaelan, for all his fury, was a just ruler. "Check her identity," he commanded. "If she does not belong here, have her healed. See if she can be returned to her body or sent for reincarnation."
The Chamberlain immediately sent for the Ledger of Souls.
While we waited, Sophia continued to struggle against her restraints, her mind still fixated on the life of luxury she was losing.
A moment later, a reaper returned with the great tome.
The Chamberlain leaned close to me. "What is your name?"
I summoned every last shred of my being and whispered two words, my voice as faint as the buzz of a mosquito. "Elara..."
This Chamberlain was new; I'd never seen him before. He heard me and began to work his magic on the Ledger.
As the seconds ticked by, a look of confusion spread across his face. "This... this can't be right..."
Kaelan's patience, always thin, was wearing out. A dangerous aura began to emanate from him. "What is it?!" he demanded.
The Chamberlain trembled. "My Lord... this person... she is not in the Ledger of Souls!"
Of course not. That had been Kaelan's doing.
He had made me immortal, a wanderer in the mortal realm. Me on Earth, him in the Underworld. That way, we would never meet again.
He clearly hadn't made the connection. He must have assumed it was more treachery from his subordinates. He snatched the Ledger, his voice a low growl of fury. "What is her name?"
"Elara," the Chamberlain replied.
The moment he heard my name, Kaelan froze. His entire demeanor shifted. His eyes, cold as glaciers, locked onto me, a flicker of disbelief in their depths.

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