The Hellfire Conspiracy
He discovered my secret—a life without end and a fortune without limit—and he wanted it for himself. He conspired with an occultist, a master of dark rites, to murder me in a ritual that would damn my soul and transfer my perfect fate to him.
On the rooftop of a skyscraper, I begged for my life, my voice torn apart by sobs.
“Please, don’t kill me! You can have all the money, all of it!”
I was afraid of dying. Terrified.
Because my ex-wife, the one who ruled the abyss below, had made a promise the last time I saw her. If she ever laid eyes on me again, she would have me flayed alive and boiled in oil.
“Eddie, we’ve been brothers for ten years… I’ve always had your back, man. Please, let me go…”
“I’ll give you everything, I swear! Just let me live!”
I was on my knees on the gritty concrete of the rooftop, groveling without a shred of dignity, ready to smash my forehead against the ground if it would save me.
Eddie sneered, hooking my chin with the needle-sharp point of his designer shoe. “I don’t just want your money, Ethan. I want your endless life, too.”
“We’re best friends, aren’t we? What’s yours is mine. And since you care so much about me,” he said, his voice a venomous purr, “you’ll give it all to me.”
With a flick of his eyes, he signaled the occultist in his dark, tattered robes. The man lunged, grabbing a fistful of my hair and dragging me toward the ledge.
Thirty-three stories. Far below, a ritual circle glowed faintly on the asphalt, positioned precisely where I was meant to land. If I died on that spot, my soul would be ripped from the cycle of reincarnation, utterly annihilated. Eddie wouldn't have to worry about a vengeful ghost. He’d planned this to be absolute.
The wind howled around me, a bitter, hungry sound. I scrabbled at the concrete, trying to pull back, but Eddie’s greed, ignited by my secret, had become an inferno. He rushed forward, joining the occultist, and a single, brutal kick sent me plummeting into the night.
The world dissolved into a rush of wind and screaming air.
Then, a sickening thud echoed in the canyon of the street, and my body exploded into a ruin of flesh and bone.
When consciousness returned, I was a disembodied soul, adrift in the gray twilight of the Underworld.
Two spectral reapers stood over me, their hands gripping soul-forged chains thick as a man’s thumb. The other end was clamped tight around my neck. A dense, cold fog shrouded everything, but from the darkness ahead, I could hear the clear, unmistakable sounds of wailing and torment.
I knew this place. It was the entrance to the Gates of Hell.
I had my darling ex-wife to thank for the tour. When I’d tried to leave her all those years ago, she had dragged me here, her eyes burning with rage, to show me exactly what awaited those who crossed her. She hadn't thrown me in then, but now, it seemed my time was up. This was it. The end.
I thrashed against the chains. “I was murdered! It was a wrongful death! I’ve done nothing wrong!”
My protest earned me a vicious crack from a barbed lash, wielded by a reaper with a thin, cruel mustache. The pain was unlike anything physical; it bit directly into my soul, and I collapsed, a silent scream trapped in my throat.
“Listen up, pal,” the mustached reaper snarled. “Doesn’t matter who you were. You’re in our hands now, and that means you’re screwed.”
Hell was a certainty, but a sliver of desperate hope remained. What if my ex still felt something? A chance at reincarnation was infinitely better than utter oblivion.
“I know the daughter of your king,” I rasped, my voice trembling. “Lilith! I need to see her…”
The two reapers exchanged a glance. Another lash cut across my back, this one so deep it nearly split my spectral form in two, silencing me completely.
The mustached one spat on the ground beside me. “You think you’re worthy of speaking the Princess’s name? I don’t know how a piece of trash like you learned it, but you’d better keep your mouth shut if you don’t want more of this.”
Helpless, I was dragged forward like a broken doll.
The other reaper, who’d been watching, whispered nervously, “You think he’s telling the truth? What if we get in trouble…?”
“What’s there to be afraid of?” the mustached one scoffed. “The occultist said this one’s off the books. He’s not in the Ledger of Souls. Some black magic scum who knows a few things he shouldn't. Don’t be a coward. We’re getting paid for this, and there’s no record of him upstairs. Now hurry up before something goes wrong.”
The pieces clicked into place. They were in on it. Corrupt reapers, bought and paid for by Eddie and his sorcerer.
As the towering, obsidian Gates of Hell loomed out of the fog, a primal terror seized my very essence, and I began to tremble uncontrollably. A low groan echoed as the reapers used their power to force the gates open, and my heart sank into a bottomless pit of despair.
Suddenly, a voice cut through the gloom, sharp and authoritative.
“A new arrival? Has this one been through Judgment?”
It was the Warden. He would recognize me!
I stared desperately at the tall, cloaked figure emerging from the mist and managed a choked cry. “Warden—!”
Before I could say more, a hand clamped over my mouth, and I was dragged behind a pillar of rock.
The mustached reaper intercepted the Warden, a sycophantic grin plastered on his face. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “Warden! Fancy seeing you out here. Here, try one of these. Fresh from the mortal realm. Got a real kick.”
The Warden, his dark robes swirling around him, brushed a speck of dust from his sleeve, clearly annoyed. “Cut the crap. I asked you a question. Has that soul been judged?”
The reaper swallowed, his bravado faltering. “Ye-yes, of course! We wouldn’t dare break protocol. You and the Matron are always so busy. You should take a break, relax. Have a smoke.”
The Warden took the cigarette and lit it, falling silent. The fog was too thick for him to see me clearly. This was my only chance. I bit down, hard, on the hand covering my mouth.
The reaper yelped in pain, his grip loosening. I scrambled towards the Warden, but a swift kick sent me sprawling. The reaper’s boot pressed down on my face, grinding it into the Stygian soil, filling my mouth with grit. I couldn't speak, couldn't breathe.
But the commotion had caught the Warden’s attention.
He took a few steps closer. “What’s going on over there?”
The reaper, seeking revenge, pressed his boot down harder, threatening to crush my skull. “Nothing, Warden. Just a feisty one. Still struggling, even here. You know how it is. The ones who end up here are never the good ones. Don’t trouble yourself with this scum.”
The Warden stopped. “Just be careful. These types are the worst of the worst. We can’t afford any mistakes. Get him inside.”
I watched, my hope dying, as the Warden turned and vanished back into the mist.
His duty done, the mustached reaper stalked over and vented his frustration, kicking me repeatedly before unleashing his barbed lash in a furious frenzy. My spectral form was soon a tattered mess of wounds, my features shredded beyond recognition.
Finally sated, he grabbed my chin. “You little bastard. You almost screwed everything up. Don’t worry,” he sneered, “once you’re inside, I’ll take very good care of you.”
I was a rag, a ghost of a ghost, tossed into the First Realm of Hell.
This was the Realm of a Thousand Needles.
As far as the eye could see, there were racks. On each, a translucent soul was impaled with thousands of shimmering needles, like some grotesque, screaming pincushion. Here, souls didn't dissipate, they only suffered. The air was a symphony of endless agony.
I drew a shuddering breath, using the last of my strength to force out a few broken words. “I… I really do know… Lilith. If she finds out what you did… she’ll never let you go…”
It was a lie, mostly. Lilith couldn't care less about my fate. She probably wanted me dead and gone. Why else would she have granted me an endless life, forcing me to wander the mortal world, never aging, never dying? She was terrified I might die and end up back here, an eyesore in her perfect, orderly kingdom.
But now that we were past the gates, the reapers were no longer afraid.
The mustached one patted my cheek, his smile a mask of pure malice. “Quite the imagination you’ve got. Been watching too many soap operas up there? You really think you’re worthy of our Princess?”
My head lolled to the side. A wave of nausea washed over me, and I coughed up a gout of dark energy. My form flickered, growing more transparent.
They strapped me to an empty rack.
The reaper returned, grinning, with a handful of Agony Needles, each as long as my forearm.
“You’d better hang in there,” he whispered. “There are seventeen more realms waiting for you after this. We’re going to have so much fun.”
He raised a needle and plunged it straight into my thigh. “Down here, even the toughest souls learn to scream for me.”
The point sank deep, and a pain so sharp, so absolute, shot through me. My entire being convulsed. “Aaaargh—!”
Suddenly, a figure rushed in from the gloom. “Stop!”
The needle was yanked out.
Gasping, I forced my eyes open to see the newcomer. It was Marcus, the administrator of this realm. I remembered him. Back when Lilith had been trying to scare me, he had been the one to plead on my behalf.
“My lady, the young master is simply naive. There is no need for such anger. Please, don't harm him.”
Hope, fragile and desperate, rekindled within me. I prayed that after all these years, he would still remember. “Marcus… it’s me… help me…” My voice was a shredded ruin, but I knew he heard me.
He stared, his eyes wide with recognition, which quickly morphed into pure terror. He knew exactly who I was.
But before I could even draw a breath of relief, his gaze flickered away. He straightened his robes, his face an emotionless mask. “A message from the powers that be,” he announced to the reapers. “They wish to witness this one’s final dissolution personally. Their party is on its way. You are to wait.”
I was stunned. Marcus was in on it, too. Another one bought by Eddie and his occultist.
My last ember of hope was extinguished. A bitter, broken laugh escaped my lips.
Lilith, oh Lilith. This is the kingdom you rule? A den of thieves and conspirators, operating right under your nose. They’ve made a mockery of your justice.
I hadn’t expected Eddie himself to come. Was he bold or just a coward? Bold enough to conspire against me, yet too cowardly to enjoy my fortune without seeing me erased from existence with his own two eyes. And now, he was bold enough to venture into the land of the dead itself.
Soon, they arrived. Eddie and the occultist, their souls temporarily separated from their bodies. Eddie was terrified at first, clinging to the occultist like a frightened child. But seeing how friendly the old man was with the reapers, his courage returned. After all, he was the one with the money.
He took a needle from the reaper’s hand and approached me, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “Ethan. Thank you. Truly. If it weren't for you, I’d never have known the joy of being rich. Money really does make the world—and the underworld—go ‘round.”
He leaned in close. “You’ve lived long enough. I’ll take it from here. You can go in peace. It’s the only way I’ll ever have any.”
I stared at him, my voice a dead rasp. “Was I not good to you?”
The question was pointless. If he had a conscience, he wouldn't have orchestrated this.
Eddie laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. “Good to me? You think you were good to me? I was your shadow, your errand boy, wearing your hand-me-downs, always the supporting actor in the grand play of your life. You really call that being good to me?”
I said nothing. You can’t reason with a viper you’ve warmed at your own hearth.
I’d found him in a blizzard, shivering in a thin jacket. He was a kid from the countryside, broke and jobless. I didn't need a butler, I was used to being alone, but I felt sorry for him. I gave him a job, but I treated him like a brother. He could have anything he asked for, and I paid him far more than anyone else would have. But over time, the lines blurred. He started to see my generosity not as kindness, but as his due. My indulgence bred his entitlement, until he believed he was my equal, and then, that he deserved to be me.
My only mistake was trusting him with my secret.
My silence only fueled his rage. “Nothing to say? You know it’s true, don’t you? You never saw me as a friend. Now, die!”
He aimed the needle at my heart.
He really, truly wanted me gone. The reapers shifted uncomfortably but did nothing to stop him.
My essence was bleeding out of me, my form becoming ghostly, almost entirely transparent. My thoughts grew hazy. Eddie was still stabbing me, a frenzied assault, carving my face into an unrecognizable mask of wounds.
Through the fog of pain, a vision appeared. It was Lilith, walking toward me.
She was just as beautiful as I remembered, more stunning than any woman I had seen in my century of life. Her robes, the color of a starless midnight sky, were a symbol of absolute power. Her hair was a cascade of ink, her features so perfectly sculpted they could break a man’s heart with a single glance.
Was it a hallucination? It had to be…
She never wanted to see me again.
So why were the reapers suddenly on their knees?
“My lady! What brings you here in person?” Marcus was trembling so violently his whole body seemed to be vibrating, his face pale with dread. Accepting bribes from mortals was a capital offense. Allowing them entry into the Underworld was treason. He was caught red-handed. He was finished.
The occultist’s face drained of color. He yanked a still-frenzied Eddie away from me, and they both fell to their knees.
Lilith’s gaze swept over them, each glance a physical blow.
Her Chamberlain, a man with a sharp, piercing voice, stepped forward. “Insolence! If the Princess had not come today, who knows how long you lot would have run this realm into the ground with your wretched corruption!”
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 swirling chaos, and the pain locked my jaw. Would she recognize me? And if she did, what then? Would she save me from this torment? Or would she simply finish the job herself, just as she’d promised?
Even if she did nothing, I was almost gone anyway…
After a long, suffocating silence, Lilith finally spoke, her voice like cracking ice. “Marcus. I entrusted this realm to your authority. Is this how you perform your duties?”
His head hit the floor with a desperation that put my own pathetic begging to shame. “I was wrong, my lady, I was wrong! These reapers brought the mortals here! I knew nothing of it! I was just about to cast them out when you arrived!”
The two reapers, seeing Marcus throw them to the wolves, were furious. “This is your domain!” the mustached one shot back. “Their presence is your failure! How dare you blame us!”
“You were the ones who established the connection to the living!” Marcus shrieked. “You dragged me into this!”
So that was it. She hadn't come for me. She was just cleaning house. I was just a coincidence, a piece of evidence. I was an outsider watching a pack of dogs tear each other apart.
Lilith let out a cold, contemptuous sigh. “Enough. The two mortals will not be returning. Detain them for judgment. As for you three,” she said, her voice dropping to a terrifying calm, “you are remanded to the Path of Beasts. You will never again know the grace of a human form, for all eternity.”
The verdict fell like a guillotine. Marcus stared, dumbfounded, then collapsed into a sitting position, his face a mask of gray despair. The two reapers had the same broken look.
Eddie, finally realizing he wasn’t going home, began to scream. “My mortal life isn’t over! Your Underworld has rules, doesn't it?! You can't just keep me here!”
He couldn't bear to lose the long life he had stolen, the vast fortune that was waiting for him.
“I’m going back!” he shrieked, grabbing the terrified occultist. “Do something! I paid you a million dollars! Get me out of here! I said I’m going back NOW!”
He didn’t know that nothing annoyed Lilith more than pointless noise.
The next second, Eddie’s soul was flung through the air like a broken kite. He landed, by a stroke of perfect irony, on the table of torture instruments, his backside impaled on a cluster of Agony Needles. The searing pain he had inflicted on me was now his own. His face contorted, and he began to howl.
The Chamberlain gestured, and other reapers swarmed forward, silencing Eddie and pinning him to the ground.
With the trash disposed of, Lilith finally turned to me.
I could feel her gaze, cold and heavy.
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