I'd like to thank Lastman for the read through and edits.
--
Sister Frost walked into the darkness. It felt like attempting to crawl through an incredibly tight space. She could move forward, but she felt her arms and shoulders pushing their way along a tight hallway with what felt like walls made of loosely packed mud. Claustrophobia quickly set in, but before it was overwhelming, she tumbled out of it, throwing her hands in front of her to brace her fall. Her palms landed on a dusty hardwood floor. It was rough and she surely would have splinters if she ran her hands across it. She looked up and saw a room lit by a fireplace and candles positioned along the walls.
The room was within a ramshackle house. Pieces of the walls were missing, revealing exposed pipes and electrical wiring. There didn't seem to be power, as while there were electrical lights and outlets, none of them were on. The home was devoid of any furniture, aside from a leather armchair placed in front of the fireplace. From her perspective, she could see the outline of a man sitting on the chair, holding a crystal glass filled with a brown liquid that was extended over the armrest.
Sister Frost saw a hand reach down to her. She looked up and saw her grandmother, displaying a warm smile she knew better than to trust. The blood of three witches still stained her hands. Gwendoline wasn't one to hide spilled blood. Regardless, she took her hand and allowed her to assist her back to her feet.
"Shadowed doors are not everyone's cup of tea. They take some getting used to," Gwendoline said as Sister Frost brushed the dirt off her habit.
"Is that her at last?" the man asked from the living room.
"It is my love," Gwendoline replied. "Do you wish to meet her?"
"Let us have a look at her."
Gwendoline gestured for Sister Frost to walk toward him, but the Sister hesitated and reached for her cross. In the span of blink, the man had appeared in front her, and grabbed her wrist to stop her. Sister Frost jolted backwards, but the man pulled her, making her collide into him. He grabbed her face with the opposite hand, tilting and adjusting her head as he examined. First, he pinched her cheeks to examine the inside of her mouth before he pressed down under her eyes to check her pupils.
The man was handsome and exuded an almost otherworldly elegance. An older gentleman who appeared in his fifties with streaks of grey in his long brown hair slicked back and held with a tie to keep it from his eyes. His eyes were so dark they were nearly black. He was two heads taller than the Sister, and she could feel the firmness of his body, and his immense strength as he held her without effort.
There was also something hauntingly cold about him. His face expressed no emotion, not even in a stoic way. He had the lifelessness of a mannequin presenting the shape of a man. He was also physically cold. His hand grasped around her wrist felt like a burn.
"Are you certain?" the man asked. He looked dissatisfied and unimpressed with the girl in front of him. "She certainly is Henrietta's, there is no denying that."
"I am more than certain. I witnessed her true form firsthand. Henreitta was the last mother as we predicted," Gwendoline said.
Sister Frost reached for the cross with her other hand but felt someone grab her other wrist. She looked down, expecting it to be Gwendoline's fingers, but instead saw the man had sprouted a third arm from his ribs. The sight made her reel back, but she couldn't even muster an inch of separation.
"I will only warn you once. If you reach for that again, I will remove your hand one finger at a time," the man said. "Remove her cross."
"Yes love," Gwendoline said, and snapped it from her neck with a single firm pull.
"Who are you?" Sister Frost asked. The man ignored her as his third hand sunk back into his body. "The devil?"
"You flatter me," the man replied and finally released her. "I am but a mere duke."
Sister Frost exhaled slowly, and the man turned and walk back toward his chair.
"Flauros?" Sister Frost asked.
Immediately, Sister Frost was struck from the back and fell hard to the floor. Her head bounced and she instantly felt dazed and disoriented.
"You dare speak his name!" Gwendoline shouted from behind her.
"That is not necessary," Flauros said as he sat down. "She may speak my name."
"But love. She may be of your blood, but she is still an exorcist."
"Are you suggesting that I am so weak, a novice exorcist could remove me from this realm?" Flauros asked. Gwendoline stuttered for a moment, tripping over her words before collecting herself.
"Of course not," Gwendoline said. "I apologize for even momentarily doubting your strength."
"Bring her. We have much to discuss," Flauros ordered.
"Go," Gwendoline said to Sister Frost who turned around to look at her. The door was feet behind her, and Sister Frost feigned cooperation, taking two steps forward. Suddenly, she pivoted hard backward, knocking Gwendoline to the floor. She ripped the door open and extended one foot out. She reached for the frame of the door to stop herself from falling into a dark and endless abyss.
The entire building was a boat sinking into a black sea. A realm of shadow, darker than night in every conceivable direction.
Sister Frost spun around to catch the door but missed. She was saved at the last moment by Flauros. She felt the burning cold of his hand penetrate the fabric of her sleeve. The instinct to not fall forced her to grasp his icy hand.
"
And they besought him that he would not command them to go out into the abyss
," Flauros said, with voice in the tone of a taunt.
Sister Frost swallowed harshly. "The demons, who called themselves Legion, asked that of Jesus."
"I cannot be fooled with a pig child," Flauros said and smiled, something Sister Frost believed he wasn't capable of. His smile was more sinister than his emotionless expression. "Any who falls remains in that darkness for no less than a thousand years. Stop this foolishness. For me, it will be minutes. For you, your mind will splinter and fracture into pieces too small to ever reconstruct. You will return broken, and pliable. What will it be child?"
Sister Frost looked over her shoulder. The darkness. Like peering into the mouth of an impossibly large monster, hungry to consume her. As a human, it scared her beyond reason. As a warrior of God, it scared her less.
Sister Frost looked into her father's cold eyes. She let his hand go, leaving him to only hold her by the sleeve of her habit.
"God will not abandon me demon," Sister Frost said firmly, and began to recite the Lord's Prayer. "Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name..."
"...I almost admire your conviction," Flauros said, and released her.
Sister Frost brought her hands together in prayer, and felt herself sink, the glow of light from door growing further away, until no light could be seen. "...from kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in heaven."
--
Indigo needed time to process what she was seeing. The warm air. The grass beneath her feet extended out endlessly, flowing in the warm wind, creating the illusion of waves in the ocean. The air almost tasted sweet. Eden. The Garden of Eden.
"Not bad for a place you didn't believe was real," Eterna said. She was kind enough to allow Indigo the time to absorb everything she was feeling.
"This is impossible," Indigo finally said, after being unable to speak for what felt like hours. Perhaps it was hours.
"You're literally standing here, right now," Timothy said.
