The two walked together under the dark sky blocked by looming trees, moonlight scarce to be found. No noise could be heard, save the hollow cricketing Gwyneth despised. She found the place eerie from the lack of creatures.
Dimensional, my Wattpad book for Open Novella Contest (ONC) has been updated. You can read it below or support and follow it on Wattpad.
If the link doesn't work, search up my profile felixissterling on Wattpad, or notify me.
Not moving an inch, Gwyneth eyed the man suspiciously. Could she trust this man? He did seem like the typical devil or demon, not that being one would be any better. Is he luring her into a trap to make a deal with the devil? Gwyneth bit her lip as she went through possibilities, forgetting about the man standing by her.
He cleared his throat, “Madam Godfrey?”
Gwyneth gave a little jump, turning a bit pink in the cheeks, “Right. Well…”
“I understand if you’re hesitant to go in, but if you really want to go back, I suggest you find your way to the palace to meet King Tynan,” the man continued.
Gwyneth frowned. Wouldn't the ruler of Hell be Lucifer? As if reading her mind, the man answered her unspoken question:
“King Tynan is a descendant of Lucifer. There are no mentions of him as he was born just a little over 60 years ago. I would love to share you the details but they are heavily classified information. We try to keep the knowledge of his existence away from Heaven, you see.”
Gwyneth nodded slowly. She knew quite a bit of Hell, but turns out there was a whole lot more that had been kept secret for who knows how long. For all she knew, Hell could be beyond just the suffering of sinners.
“I shall call for an escort, if you’d like?” The man tilted his head a little to the side. “A guardian, perhaps. Hell hasn’t had a human visitor in… centuries, I suppose.
Gwyneth raised an eyebrow, tempted to know more, “Centuries? This has happened before?”
The man rubbed his chin, his expression turned thoughtful. I took him a while to answer, “There was a woman, once, she came and left. She met Lucifer, though, not Tynan.” He shrugged, “If Tynan isn’t much of a help, then Lucifer may be the key to your return home. Shall you pass through, now?”
She wasn’t completely convinced, but there wasn’t much of a choice for Gwyneth. It was either this or the nothingness behind her. “Alright, then.”
“Wonderful, I shall call upon an escort. He will be with you shortly. Now I must attend to our next citizen of Hell,” he noted happily.
Gwyneth turned behind her — a grubby man with demonish features stood fearfully.
She took a step forward, breathing in nervously. Beyond the gate were black clouds, which felt concerning to her.
Closing her eyes, she walked ahead, terrified to know what laid behind these clouds.
Screams could burst her ears at any given moment whilst a wave of heat blanketed her body. Opening her eyes immediately, Gwyneth gasped.
Hell was exactly what she imagined.
Fires blazed everywhere in a cave, sending unwelcome levels of heat. The searing voices of the pained sinners were an atrocious sight to witness. Gwyneth may and will be a murderer of many, but death by fire was a method she despised most.
Eyes falling upon one of a nearby sinner, Gwyneth shuddered in repulse. This sinner specifically had a mix of human and red demon skin, seemingly just like many others. Scars burned as fire touched her skin, her arms and legs chained onto the ground. A grueling voice yelled for help, for mercy, for forgiveness.
Shuddering, Gwyneth refused to believe that she would be here.
I need to find a way to avoid my death. Perhaps I could ask for some insight from King Tynan, or a straightforward answer.
Navigating through these flames would be a dangerous task, Gwyneth had noted. It would be impossible to pass unscathed — and so the answers must lie behind her. Scrutinising every detail of the clouds that she passed through, she hoped to find something different that could indicate a path elsewhere. Deeming her search useless, Gwyneth supposed that she would just have to pass through and see what would happen.
“Gwyneth Godfrey, I presume?” a voice sounded from behind her, one belonging to a woman.
Expecting a demon of red skin, Gwyneth was baffled to stand face-to-face with a woman of human-coloured skin. Her hair was of shoulder length, a choppy mess that somehow made her alluring. Her eye whites were black, her irises a glowing dark red. Her outfit consisted of a tee with sleeves that reached the elbows, a vest with multiple pockets, fingerless gloves, cargo pants, and boots — all in black. She looked ready for combat with her belt of weapons. A couple knives, a gun, and a bomb. To top it all off, she was beautiful with her makeup enhancing her attractive features.
The woman snickered, “Why? Demon cut off your tongue?”
Gwenyth felt intimidated, questioning whether she should respond or not.
Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, the woman asked, “Did Emeric do something to you?”
“Who’s Emeric?” Gwyneth finally spoke, her curiosity showing.
An amused look appeared on the woman’s face, “Emeric’s the temporary Guardian. He’s supposed to be guarding the gates and assigning the Sinners to where they should go. Anyway, I’m your escort. The name’s Lenore, you can call me Len.”
Gwyneth raised an eyebrow, “Lenore? Doesn’t that mean light?”
“I know,” Len rolled her eyes, “Ironic isn’t it? My mum loves the name, she got it from a poem she read years ago.”
Gwenyth grinned, “The Raven, perhaps? It’s a nice poem.”
Len groaned, “Uuugh, another poem-fanatic? I don’t need another one in my life.” She flapped her wings, leaning backwards, as if ready to fly away — an obvious tease.
Giggling, Gwyneth asked, “Do you meet many?”
“You could say so. My ex-friend loved poems, and he ended up hooking up with my mum ‘cause of their shared interest. He’s an ex-friend ‘cause of other things, though.”
“Are you implying that I’ll attempt to seduce your mother?” Gwyneth asked, amused.
An alarmed expression took over Len’s face for a moment. Turning red, Len hastily answered, “Of course not. I was just saying… y’know… ANYWAY, let’s get back to what we should really be doing: getting you to the palace.”
Gwyneth heartily laughed, “You should have seen your face.”
“Shut up, woman,” Len replied, embarrassed. Recovering herself, she continued, “Look, I know you were searching for an alternative path in the clouds, but that’s not gonna work. We’re gonna have to fly — that’s how I got in,” she pointed out.
“I’m not sure you’re aware, but I don’t have wings .”
Len rolled her eyes, “Do I look stupid to you? I’m proposing that I should carry you up.” She pointed at the ceiling, and Gwyneth finally spotted a brownish spot that stood out from the rest.
“There’s an opening. It’s closed by a trapdoor. It’s made specifically for demons like me — Sinners can’t fly up because they’re too wounded.”
“What do you mean by demons like you?”
“Demons born in hell. Sinners are from the human world, they’re sole purpose here is to atone for their sins.”
“Right. So about flying up…”
“Just hug me, tightly. I’ll hold onto you.”
Gwyneth hesitated. She shouldn’t be too trusting of a demon, but there wasn’t really much she could do.
Len sighed, “Gwyneth, it’ll be fine. If you’re worried about me dropping you into the fire, just know that I wouldn’t do that. I’m more of a weapon person, not a dropping-someone-into-fire person.”
That didn’t do anything to convince Gwyneth, but then she stupidly realised: she’s a vampire.
Internally slapping herself, Gwyneth said, “I can fly. I just forgot that my wings aren’t available in human form.”
“Human— what?” Len frowned, confused.
“I’m a vampire, didn’t Emeric tell you that?”
“I have the ability to turn into a bat.”
“Oh,” Len responded, looking dejected. “Well, follow me, I guess.”
“You could still carry me, if you want to,” Gwyneth offered. She felt bad, maybe Len wanted to do something that she found cool.
“No, no, it’s fine,” Len chuckled. “Let’s go.”
Len’s feet lightly lifted off the ground, sending strong huffs of wind from her large wings flapping harshly behind her. She watched Gwyneth expectantly, who was shrinking rapidly. Stubs grew from her back, forming fleshy wings — thin grey, fur sprouted throughout her entire body — her legs became short with fleshy legs — her eyes grew pointy and pink-ish on the insides — and her face contorted gruesomely, the eyes changing shape, mouth thinning, and nose flattening.
A black dress and her accessories dropped onto the floor with a light thumping sound.
Gwyneth had been so used to transforming at home that she didn’t consider this element. Sucks to be a pure vampire.
“Ah,” Len sounded out, her eyebrows raising. She picked them up, messily folding the long dress and wrapping the accessories with it.
Len nodded, signalling to move. Partly leading Gwyneth to the trapdoor, she soared up the cave at full speed, leaving Gwyneth to catch up with her. From above, Gwyneth noted that the fires seemed endless, separated by thin gaps — creating sections of fires that prompted Gwyneth to wonder whether these fires were categorical by Sinner. There were guards stationed too, perhaps to stop Sinner from escaping?
“A lot of Sinners, aren’t there?” Len’s voice a blade that cut through Gwyneth’s thoughts, who nodded in response, unable to audibly reply in human words.
Gwyheth’s eyes wandered over to the trapdoor. Len was already pushing it open, turning to Gwyneth afterwards, “I’ll go first, I don’t want anyone thinking you’re a trespasser or some sort of escaped Sinner.”
She zoomed through the hole, Gwyneth following suit. Shutting the trapdoor, Len explained the situation to a guard that seemed to be guarding the trapdoor.
Gwyneth looked around — the place was the size of a decent cottage. The building was square, accommodating an area for the trapdoor that she had just flown through, a mini pantry/kitchen, a living room, and a closed off room which most likely served as the bathroom. The place was handsomely furnished, with rich furniture and what seemed like the royal crest stitched into deep red banners.
“We’d also need to use the bathroom. Gwyneth needs to change into her clothes,” Len ended the conversation promptly.
Gwyneth flapped past the guards, barely acknowledging them. Len, on the other hand, waved cheerfully towards them. Placing Gwyneth’s clothes onto a clothes rack, Len said, “I’ll be right outside.’
With the comfort of well-needed privacy, Gwyneth transformed back into her human form. Looking into the mirror, Gwyneth used her fingers to comb through her hair before quickly massaging her face. She was grateful to have chosen a simple slip-on dress.
Gwyneth opened the door to reveal Len chatting with the guards. Eyes brightening from the sight of her, Len introduced her to the guards.
“This is Gwyneth, the vampire I’m escorting to the palace.”
Gwyneth gave an awkward wave, the guards returning the gesture. The guards were not all red — which Gwyneth had already expected after meeting Len. They all still had their demon characteristics, although one of them had no wings.
Len grabbed one of many lanterns, not intending to stay long. The two left the “cottage” and walked into… the woods?
“Those were the guards assigned to watch over the trapdoor. There’s six of them, but one of them's at the gate — Emeric. We’re also in the woods because it’s more hidden. Places like the military towers and the palace are unsafe from how many pass in and out, so the King chooses trusted guards to be stationed here,” Len went on, explaining to a confused Gwyneth as she took the lead, navigating through the dense forest. There were numerous different exotic plants that had never been seen before, and most seemed deadly.
Gwyneth raised an eyebrow, surely this place wasn’t any safer. “No one goes through the woods?”
“These woods? No. A previous King spread propaganda about how dangerous this place is, and even stationed hidden guards to kill anyone that goes in to further strengthen his lies. It still happens to this day.”
Len hummed, thinking. The crunch of fallen leaves filled in the void of silence as she started walking forwards, Gwyneth behind her. After a while, she replied, “I suppose you could say that I’m one of the King’s right hand men. I’m also his niece.”
“Wouldn’t that make you two enemies?”
“No. He knows I don’t care about ruling the world so much that I’d kill anyone for it. The only guy he should’ve worried about was my dad, but he’ss dead.”
“Don’t be. I didn’t like him anyway. Good riddance.”
The two walked together under the dark sky blocked by looming trees, moonlight scarce to be found. No noise could be heard, save the hollow cricketing Gwyneth despised. She found the place eerie from the lack of creatures.
Do the guards kill the animals down to the most minuscule insect? Was this to keep trespassers on their toes?
Soon, Gwyneth noticed that they were following a very subtle path. Every now and then, she’d notice muted red pebbles that her escort seemed to be looking for — Len would look down on the ground, and produce a satisfied sigh once her eyes fell upon the red pebbles.
“We’re almost there,” Len suddenly announced, sending Gwyneth jumping from fright.
Gwyneth cleared her throat, she had been too intent on her thoughts. “So where exactly does this path lead? More of nowhere? Civilisation?”
Len’s face showed pure amusement, Gwyneth presuming this was due to her reaction, “Civilisation, it is. About a kilometre from here is a small village, and it gradually turns into a massive neighborhood that surrounds a much bigger city.”
Ducking under thick, heavy vines and nearly slipping over something thin, Gwyneth walks through trees that become smaller the further she walks.
Her eyes met the moon’s reflection upon the lake, a forest-less smell, hills and patches of flowers, and tiny lights indicated the presence of huts in the distance of which they were built inside and along the streets.
Who knew Hell happened to be so homey-looking?
Implying her face-value viewpoint, Gwyneth observed, “I wasn’t expecting to be introduced to such a peaceful surrounding.”
Laughing whilst putting out the light, Len replied, “We’re only in the countryside. The mini countryside, in this case. Villages are homes to the good ones in Hell. The main neighbourhoods and the cities are where you find the dirtbags.”
Indicating to continue on their journey with slow steps, Len shrugged, “What I mean by good is ‘less or minor sin-making’. It’s usually thieves that steal convenience stores. There are still those with angelic-esque personalities.”
Gwyneth frowned as she walked side-by-side with Len, “Angelic?”
“Mm-hm. It’s been theorised that the really good ones are angels in disguise.”
“Do you believe in that?”
“No, and yes. Anyway, to change the topic, we’ll be staying over at an inn for the night. That is, unless you’ve got the energy to fly all the way to the city to where I live.”
Gwyneth chuckled, she had never been one to feel tired during the dark hours, “Oh, please, I’m a vampire. I’m practically married to the night.”
“Maybe your vampire-ness isn’t vampiring?” Len asked, doubtful of Gwyneth’s stamina,
“I didn’t know you’d be one to find such lame excuses to invest into your precious sleep.”
“It’s not lame at all, and I’m definitely not sleepy. C’mon, let’s go.”
Gwyneth transformed once more, her clothes on the dirty ground.
“Right,” Len noted, messily folding the dress once more before covering everything else with it. The two soared into the air, flying over countless huts and houses of different colours and sizes. Tiny demons walk about, all immersed in their own sweet lives. The breeze tickled Gwyneth’s ears, her eyes tearing up. She’d never had to go so fast before meeting Len, who seemed to be used to this speed.
The two reached tall buildings of all sorts — malls, offices, apartments, and even a refined-looking neighbourhood somewhere near the middle. Cars honk as their owners drive through long, winding paths. The only stain in this cookie-cutter city was the destruction. Fires and vandalism are dotted across the place.
Firemen must be paid well in Hell.
Len dove down in a split second. Alarmed, Gwyneth hastily followed in her path down onto the garden of a decent-sized home. It was very reminiscent of Gwyneth’s stereotypical view on demons. A dark coloured house, symbols, carcases, and statues of screaming humans as pillars for the porch — Len’s got a degree in Demon Lifestyle.
“You can change into my pajamas — I’ll wash your dress in the washing machine. And I’ll place your accessories on the dinner table,” Len said, inviting Gwyneth into her home.
Pictures and grand furniture laced the place. There was no sign of poverty, nor of any other living being other than a sleeping calico cat.
Gwyneth had taken a long, hot shower in Len’s bathroom. Len had insisted on Gwyneth using that particular bathroom due to its large size and elegantly decorated facilities, but mostly due to hospitality.
Apparently, through Gwyneth’s enjoyment of relaxation, Len had cleaned up one of the guest rooms and even fitted new bed sheets. It had been dusty from lack of use.
“We’ll rest tonight, and go out tomorrow,” Len instructed, "We'll leave in the morning.”
Gwyneth sighed, “You forget: I’m a vampire. I perish the moment I stand beneath the sun.”
“The sun doesn’t shine in Hell, my dear vampire that always assumes I’m demented. It’s just brighter. Heaven cursed us with no Sun to exploit for our crops, but were merciful enough to allow light to seep through the cracks of what we call the other side… Heaven.”
“There are cracks that lead to Heaven?” Gwyneth gasped, amazed.
Len giggled, “Nope. I was simply trying to imitate your poetic tone. But it’s true, though. We’re cursed with no sun, but Heaven was still good enough to provide us some mysterious light.”
Gwyneth scoffed, “You were impressive, though. Those were beautiful, yet typical, choices of words.”
“Were you expecting me to speak as if I lived through the 16th century?” Len grumbled, before mocking, “Thou hast mine word, mine lady, for I shall speak in words of years before.”
The two fall into laughter, filling the next few hours with jousts and stories.
Y'all have no idea how scarce time I have these days. My schedule is PACKED.
