They’ll probably kill me as soon as they get the chance, but I’ll deal with that after we escape from whatever it is that’s trying to kill us now. I make the mistake of turning around to see what we’re running from.
There are three pumped-up demons like the one I saw the last time I was in the Pit. They’re all enormous, with huge muscles encased in leather straps crisscrossing their bodies. Their torsos are otherwise naked, and that’s as far down as I can see.
They probably don’t have cows here in the Pit. I try not to think about what animal hide they use for their leather.
They ride on chariots pulled by a dozen newly Fallen harnessed in bloody chains. The Fallen frantically sweep their wings as their demon lords whip them. I can tell they’re newly Fallen because they still have most of their feathers, although they’re crushed and twisted. I don’t have to look to know the chariots probably have broken angels strapped to the wheels as well, just like Beliel was in my last visit.
The demons use multiheaded sticks like the one I saw back then to whip and bite the angel slaves pulling the chariots. These sticks are topped by circles of shriveled heads all with the same shade of red hair and green eyes. The hair floats as if underwater just like the ones I’d seen before. And like the others I’d seen, these are also screaming soundlessly.
When their masters whip the stick, they come shrieking toward the Fallen, biting and ripping strips of skin and feathers off them when they land.
One of the demons looks at me. I can’t help but think that it’s the same one who saw me the last time I visited the Pit. His wings are on fire, and his glistening body glows red from the reflection. He snaps his multiheaded whip at me as all the chariots charge closer.
The matching heads scream as they come at me with an intensity that’s beyond insane. All balls of teeth and eyes and writhing hair.
All I know is that I do not want one of those latching onto me. I pump my legs as fast as I can. I do a sharp turn around a corner and run behind a broken building.
There’s a hatchway in a crumbling wall. I throw it open.
I’m about to race down the stone steps into the darkness below when one of the Watchers crash-lands on the ground in front of me.
It’s Beliel. He has a whip head chewing its way into his back.
Two more of the screaming heads land on him. One latches on and rips a strip of flesh off his arm. The other catches itself on Beliel’s hair and begins whipping around, pulling part of Beliel’s scalp with it.
Beliel grabs the one off his scalp and crushes it.
I jump in and viciously kick the head off his back. Beliel is my ticket out of here, and I can’t let him get killed. My head hurts just trying to understand what it would mean if he dies here.
The last head is chewing its way up the strip of torn skin on his arm. I yank the head and rip the skin all the way off, ignoring Beliel’s bellow of pain. I stomp on it until it stops moving.
Beliel staggers up onto his feet. I shove him down the dark stairs and slam the hatch behind me.
I try not to pant too loudly as I latch the door shut.
We seem to be in a basement below a crumbled building. The only light is from the cracks of the hatch door, and it’s too dark to see whether there’s another exit.
The ground vibrates. Large, heavy chunks of debris thunk down against the hatch.
I stiffen and get ready, gripping my sword with both hands. A sense of doom vibrates off Beliel as he stands with his ear cocked toward the hatch, as though he’s been here a thousand times before and lost the battle each time. Looking at how torn and trashed he and the other Watchers are, that doesn’t seem far-fetched.
The hatch rattles and jiggles as the heads attack it with their teeth. The gnawing and bumping against the hatch goes on forever before it finally stops.
Then a great rattling and the sound of whipping moves past outside. The demons must not have seen where we disappeared to, even if their whip heads did.
The chariot rattle fades into the distance.
I cautiously let my breath out and look around. We’re in an underground hovel of some kind. Trashed bedding lies in the shadows, a raised seat made of mud, charred remains of a long-ago fireplace.
‘Do you know what they would have done to you?’ asks Beliel in a raspy whisper beside me.
I jump. I hadn’t realized he was so close.
‘Those heads,’ he says. ‘Do you know what they scream for?’
I shake my head, then remember he can’t see me.
‘A new body. They’re desperate for it.’ He leans against the wall of the hovel with his empty sockets turned to me. ‘Welcome to the Pit. Like it or not, you’ve just joined the initiations for the newly Fallen.’
‘How long do the initiations go on?’
‘Until you become Consumed or something equally horrible. Or it’s possible the Pit lords might feel like promoting you out of maggot status. I’ve heard it only happens sometime after your wings fully turn. Then the real fun begins.’
‘It gets worse after you’re promoted?’
‘That’s what I heard.’