To Hell

The same dream. Lightning strikes, falling stars lit up the sky and made it so the night became bright as day. The landscape had been torn apart by fissures, from which molten rock oozed in a deadly tide. I could see myself as I was, as I would forever be; a demon. On the other side of the chasm stood my beloved, weeping. An angel most righteous and the one the gods had crafted just for me. All of the stars in the universe dimmed in comparison. Even in the throes of battle, clad in grief and seething with anger, they were creation itself and I would raise the Nine Circles or tear down Heaven for them.

But, as always, I must wake.

I must wake.

Dev rolled the heels of her palms against her eyes and stretched. She swiped the alarm on her phone off in annoyance. That was always her favorite dream, the only time she had been able to see her beloved, and reality had stolen it from her yet again. She stayed in bed a few minutes longer before her pet cat started to softly paw at her face.

“Yes, Lucipurr, I am aware it is time for breakfast. Forgive me, I was having a very good dream,” she said, gently scratching the beast under the chin.

Lucipurr meowed in response, jumping off the bed and trotting to his food bowl. He sat and stared at her expectantly, tail twitching with increasing impatience. She scoffed and stuck her tongue out at him, swinging her feet over the edge of the bed and sitting up with another indulgent stretch.

The floor was cold beneath her feet, and Lucipurr had hidden one of her house slippers in retaliation for a different offense she wasn’t sure she had committed. She picked up his bowl and set about mixing together the portion of wet food with dry food.

“You know if you’d stop breaking the automatic feeders, you wouldn’t have to wait on me.”

“Mrrp.”

She laughed, “Just because I have the money doesn’t mean everything is replaceable, little shit.”

He blinked slowly at her as she finished mixing the food and set his bowl down.

“Yes, I love you, too.”

Her phone alarmed again. A persistent, rhythmic chime of twinkling bells signaling it was time to start her morning exercises. She padded to the bathroom, her footfalls non-existent against the tile floor. It was in her nature to move quietly, a skill she honed until she could move undetected even in dead silence.

She washed her face and changed into a pair of tight-fitting athletic pants and a sports bra, pulling her long auburn hair up into a ponytail to expose her undercut. After laying out her yoga mat, she turned on some gentle music for background noise while doing some warm-up stretches. Dev enjoyed yoga. Something about being able to feel all of the individual ways her body moved always made her feel more connected to herself.

She was fully in Scorpion Pose when her phone rang, interrupting both her calm and her music. She frowned as she righted herself.

“This had better be important,” she grumbled, answering the call, “Speak.”

It was Jaz, “I’m so sorry to bother you, Mistress, I was acquiring your breakfast, but the location has moved.”

Jaz was her right-hand man, the only human she’d ever trusted. He was using the code to signal that a hit had been made near one of the storehouses.

“How unfortunate,” she frowned, “I was quite fond of that place. They had the best steel cut oats. I’m feeling decadent this morning. Perhaps you can procure a bagel for me, with lox, cream cheese, and capers.”

“As you wish, Mistress.”

The call ended and she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Moving a storehouse was risky, especially with a hit being made so close. She’d have to plan carefully and possibly grease a few palms. Thankfully, she had plenty of resources to access.

Another alarm sounded on her phone and she silenced it, making her way back to the bathroom to begin her meticulous grooming routine. It was a habit ingrained in her by her father. He had insisted on maintaining a perfectly manicured appearance for the public eye but also for the practicality of never leaving any evidence of himself at the locations of his dealings. When she came of age and declared her desire to become more involved with business affairs he educated her in new ways. Thoroughly.

Her father was an intelligent and ambitious man, as cruel as he was clever, but his hubris was his undoing. All it took was the right whispers in the right ears to dethrone him. She played the role of the helpless, ignorant child at his trial just as he had instructed. He was never the wiser that she had been the mastermind behind his downfall.

She couldn’t wait for him to pass away. Gods know that the wicked live forever and only the good die young. She needed him out of the way sooner so she could reform and expand the empire he’d built, it was the only way she’d ever be reunited with her beloved. It was one last twisted blessing from the gods that they would eternally reincarnate as enemies, destined to vanquish each other in battle until the end of time. There was no other possible outcome in her mind, creating a ruthless name for herself guaranteed that the universe would bring her lover to her. After all, Good must triumph over Evil. Or so the story always goes.

“Your itinerary, Mistress.”

She loved Jaz for his efficiency, “Speak.”

“The day is mostly open, as per your instruction. You have a meeting with the museum director at 2p.m. and dinner with your mother at 6p.m.” he said, tapping the screen of his tablet, “Your father has requested your presence. Undoubtedly, he wishes to be informed of your leadership choices.”

“When is my next available day?” she asked, taking a delicate bite of her bagel.

He paused and tapped for a moment, “You have an opening during alloted visiting hours in three months.”

“Very well. Make it so.”

Jaz nodded an informal bow and paced the room in a slow step. Dev tracked his cadence, noticing he was favoring his left leg slightly. He wasn’t a young man, entering the seventh year of his fourth decade of life. He was attractive by societal standards, tall and muscular with broad shoulders. She made sure he was well dressed and held him to the same standards of personal grooming as she applied to herself. His strong jaw was clean shaven with the exception of a goatee that was greying in the middle. She found it charming, it made him look distinguished.

“Jaz.”

“Yes, Mistress?” he stopped pacing.

“Your left leg. What ails you?”

“I-” he looked away, “Forgive me, I thought I was hiding it better.”

Dev straightened, rolling her shoulders back, “What. Happened.”

It wasn’t a question. His increasing nervousness was working its way under her skin.

She snapped her fingers and pointed down, “Prostrate yourself.”

He knelt at her feet in perfect submission, forehead touching the floor.

“Do I not treat you well?”

Silence.

“Speak.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he replied, an obedient automaton.

“Do I not pay you well?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

She walked a slow circle around him, “I have placed absolute faith in you, Jaz. I find your choice of wording very concerning. If you would hide an injury from me, knowing how much I rely on you to keep this machine running smoothly, then what else would you hide from me?”

“Mistress, I-”

She refrained from kicking him, harming him further was a risk she couldn’t afford, ”I’m not finished.” A pause. “Do I need to remind you what will happen if you betray me? If I find myself having mispalced my faith in you?”

Silence.

"Speak."

His voice trembled, “N-no, my Mistress. My loyalty is only to you, my life belongs only to you. I am yours, body and soul.”

“Good.” She toed the tip of her stiletto under his chin and forced him to look up at her, “Now, tell me what ails you?”