This is Tartarus.
“Let’s go,” the hellhound—thedemonsays.
My legs shake as it leads me to a rocky stairway descending into the darkness. The only thing that pushes me forward is the grip on my arm and my ability to shove anything horrific that’s ever happened to me into a tiny box in the corner of my mind, where I can steadfastly ignore it and let it build into trauma that will unexpectedly reveal itself at an inopportune time in the future.
At first, the stairs cling to sheer stone on one side and open to the abyss on the other, but slowly, cells start to appear carved into the rock. Barriers of crooked, splintered bones separate damned souls from the passage. They don’t look like any Dead I’ve encountered in the Afterlife. Something about them seems thin, like dying flames, retreating, sputtering as they consume themselves.
I don’t know how long we descend in the dark, but eventually, there’s a hole in the rock, and I’m dragged down a long, jagged corridor until we stop in front of a cell.
I hear the scraping of a key, and the door whines open. Then I’m thrust forward into the darkness, and the gate clangs shut behind me.
And just like that, I’m trapped in hell.
Thirty
When tying someone up, there are certain knots that prevent escape. One is the constrictor knot. It’s simple but nearly impossible to untie once tightened. The only option is to cut the rope, so unless your prisoner has access to something sharp, they’re not going anywhere.
Another is the Palomar knot, primarily used in fishing. Tension only makes this knot stronger. The harder your prisoner struggles, the tighter the knot becomes.
Though a little more complex, there’s always the figure eight follow-through, as long as the load strand is on the outside of the knot. There’s also the monkey’s paw, a complicated knot illegal in Canada and most of Eastern Europe.
But the one knot you absolutely do (k)not want to use, because it can easily be undone with light pressure and a slight bending motion, is a loose two half hitches knot.
Which is the knot Poppy used to tie my wrists.
I shrug easily out of the rope and start winding it into a monkey’s paw.
I’m not alone in the cell. There are at least three others that I can see. All look to have died relatively recently, dressed in clothing that matches trends from the last few years. None of them have the decayed feel of the souls we passed on our descent, so I gather this is some sort of holding cell for newer souls before they’re…processed? Sent somewhere else? Given a welcome packet?
“What are you in for?” I ask one of the souls, a man with a five-o’clock shadow and bags beneath his eyes.
He doesn’t acknowledge me, just floats past, then snakes his arm between the bars, wailing as his bicep brushes against one of the bones. Something like a current runs through him. His entire metaphysical body trembles, but he doesn’t pull away from the bars until a demon in its Grim Reaper form appears in front of him and knocks him down with the butt of his scythe.
Seriously, unfathomable magic, and it’s here playing prison guard.
The man hits the floor, moaning. The demon hovers for a moment before drifting back into the shadows.
“Idiot,” someone scoffs behind me.
I turn to find a teenage girl slouched against the wall. She looks several years younger than me and has the most unimpressed expression I’ve ever seen. Let’s see if we can get some info out of her, shall we?
I saunter over and take a seat next to her. She eyes me skeptically. I might not have gone to school like a normal kid, but even I can tell she doesnotthink I’m cool.
“So…how’d you die?” I ask in a Chicago accent, because why not?
“Car accident,” she says aggressively, like she wants me to contradict her.
I twist my mouth in a sardonic grin. “That’s so embarrassing for you. That’s, like, what? The leading cause of death for people under eighteen?”
“So? How did you die?” she asks, scowling.
I let out a heavy sigh, fingers still working on the monkey’s paw. “Someone was trying to lift a piano into a tenth-floor apartment, but the rope broke.”
She crosses her arms. “You were crushed by a falling piano?”
I grin. “Actually, I dove out of the way just in time but unfortunately fell down an open manhole.”
She continues to scowl.
