J L Morris - Beautiful Revenge

‘Luck is not a factor,’ said War. His sonorous voice caused the visor of his helm to rattle. ‘You will get what you paid for, Light Bearer.’

‘Love it,’ replied Lucifer, giving War the gun-finger and a wink. ‘Love you, love the confidence . I have a really good feeling about all of this.’

The Light Bearer put a massive arm around his daughter’s shoulder.

‘And here’s the final little piece of the puzzle,’ he said, dropping a necklace and pendant into Persephone’s hand. ‘Your key to Heaven.’

Persephone looked at the jewellery and grinned. Nergal had taken it from the trio’s penthouse after the twins had been kidnapped by her brother. The Lord’s Tear kept its wearer hidden from Demons and it would be essential to her story’s credibility.

‘I won’t let you down, Father,’ she said.

‘I know you won’t, sweetheart,’ replied Lucifer.

He smiled and patted Persephone gently on her head.

‘On the off-chance that you do though, I’ll rip you apart with my bare hands and burn what’s left. No pressure though, the main thing is to just go out there and have fun.’

With a wave of the Light Bearer’s arms Persephone and the Horsemen faded from Perdition.

***

Persephone’s first feeling in the Mortal realm was searing pain. The runes under her skin pulsed with Demonic energy and she collapsed to her knees. With her first ragged breath she realised the Mortal realm stank. Wet dirt, vegetation and pesticides accounted for most of the stench but they were all unfamiliar to the Demonette’s senses. Underneath the immediate odour was the one Demons always complained about: Humanity. The Damned smelt bad enough but in the Mortals’ own realm the reek was pervasive. It hung in the air, even if no Humans were close by, like a thick cloud of filth, shame and sweat.

Persephone struggled to her feet, fighting past the blinding agony that ripped through her body. She wanted to scream but that was conduct unbecoming of the Princess of Perdition so she held it back.

One day Uphir and everyone else will pay tenfold for this , she thought. Father most of all.

The fantasy of that day of vengeance bolstered her resolve and Persephone finally managed to stand up straight. The blackness of the night sky was an impressive first sight. It almost made up for the smell. Had there not been stars to ruin the effect Persephone would have considered it perfect. Her father enjoyed fire; it was why he had chosen to light his realm with an entire sky of it. Persephone had always preferred the darkness that came after everything had burnt.

She had chosen a raven-haired, doe-eyed form for her work on Earth. Gorgeous enough to pull off either demure or wanton with equal ease, she had pieced the vessel together from images she had found on the Internet. It was her perfect answer to any number of situations that could occur in the Mortal realm. From everything she had gleaned on Kaarl he would prefer a shy beauty but the ability to raise pulses and diminish the capacity for higher thought in males was a necessary tool as well.

As the pain subsided a little and her vision cleared, the semi-blurred forms of the Horsemen began to take definition. A tall, buxom redhead in a tightly-clinging crimson dress was making her way towards Lucifer’s daughter.

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ the woman said, adjusting her hemline as she approached. ‘But I wanted to try something a little different.’

Her face was striking with dark green eyes. The putrid tang that emanated from her mouth made it clear that Pestilence had decided to take up cross-dressing on his first ever foray into the Mortal realm. Compared to his breath the stench of Humanity was nothing.

‘Might be a bit of fun too,’ the Horseman added with a wink.

Persephone could tell that the seven-and-a-half-foot tall slab of muscle with the rakish blond hair and surly demeanour was War. The emaciated and lanky form of Famine looked ridiculous standing next to him. Death stood a little away from his brothers and was a cut above them all.

Gone were the pale complexion, black stitching and delicate features of his true form. Now tall, well-built and dark skinned, Death had taken his inherent and ethereal beauty and somehow grafted it directly onto a Mortal form that bore no resemblance to the creature Persephone had first met in her father’s dungeons. Even by her famously high standards the results of the transformation were breath-taking.

‘So why have you brought us here?’ asked Pestilence in his sultry, feminine voice. He glanced around at the seemingly endless rows of crops. ‘And where is “here” while we’re on the subject?’

Persephone took a few steps back from him to avoid concentrated blasts of his breath.

‘We are near a place called Storm Lake in the United States of America,’ she told the Horsemen. Persephone walked to one of the tall plants and ripped an ear off of it. She tossed it to Pestilence.

‘That is called maize, or corn or whatever. I don’t really care. Almost half of the world’s supply comes from this country. I want none of it to.’

The Horseman sniffed at the maize.

‘They have changed this,’ he said after a few moments.

‘They spray it to keep insects and pests away,’ replied Persephone.

‘No, not just that; the very essence of this plant has been changed. My usual methods will not work on this.’

Persephone scowled at Pestilence.

‘So, we are a few minutes into our mission and already you are of no use to me?’

Pestilence tilted his head, brushed a stray strand of his fiery-red hair out of the way and studied the plant.

‘It will just take a little time.’

War stepped forward. His voice had kept the same bone-shaking tenor as in his true form.

‘We should visit an alehouse while our brother solves this problem.’

‘No we shouldn’t,’ replied Lucifer’s daughter. ‘This is not a holiday. You will do the job my father paid you to do.’

War marched over and stood in front of Persephone. She stared back undaunted, even though the Horseman towered above her.

‘We will do the job because we have promised as much, girl. You will not, however, tell us how to approach every minute detail. We know what you want and how you want to achieve it. This we shall deliver. We will not stand in the middle of a field waiting though when the thing you want can be accomplished somewhere with ale.’

Persephone held her ground and kept her eyes locked with War’s. After a few minutes it was obvious the Horseman would not relent. The only way forward seemed to be compromise. Persephone hated that word with a passion.

‘Fine,’ she replied, her voice dripping with contempt. ‘I don’t even know where the nearest bar is so we are in for a hunt and probably a long walk. If that’s what you want then so be it.’

‘It will not be a problem,’ replied War.

He nodded to his brothers and the Horsemen crowded around Death, Pestilence still clutching the maize. Persephone followed suit and smoke-like tendrils began to seep from Death as a shroud enveloped the group. Everything outside of it took on a greyish hue.

With nothing more than a quick lurch in Persephone’s stomach the scenery changed. The fields had been replaced with a parking lot and a wooden building with neon signage stood in front of the group. Death waited until a patron had staggered into the bar before dropping the shroud.

‘Where is this?’ asked Persephone.

‘An alehouse on the outskirts of the town,’ replied War.

‘They are called “bars” or “clubs”. This is the former. And don’t ask for ale in there, you’ll look like an idiot. It’s beer.’ Persephone looked back at Death. ‘How did he do that?’