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Finn straightens, dusting his hands down his thin, linen shirt as if convincing the guard was tasking work. On Earth, there would be buttons near the neckline, but in Hell it’s more common to find laces. Regardless, he seems to ignore them, showing off the honed muscle underneath.
It doesn’t take much to see why the orc was hesitant. Finn looks more like a pirate than the prince’s right-hand man. Where most noble men tuck in their shirts, his hangs loose. The baggie fabric is held close around his waist by the leather belt which carries his sword, trusty letter opener–or whatever that is–and a curved dagger. The ensemble is topped off with his dark, form-fitting pants and knee-high leather boots lined with thick buckles that cinch up the length of his calves.
Finn falls into step beside my horse and together we pass the guard, continuing down the stone path leading to Purgatory.
“What are you getting me into?” I hiss, shoving the words through my clenched teeth.
“Oh nothing… Just a friendly underground fight club. No big deal, really.”
My head snatches to the left, and my wide eyes land on him. “Awhat?”
“Relax. I wouldn’t have brought you here if you weren’t ready. You need to learn how to fight a living, breathing person whowantsto hurt you. It’s a different experience, and the closest you’ll get to what you’ll be up against when we go to war.”
My heart skips in my chest, caught between the excitement of finally having a chance to prove myself and the terror of failing. But Finn has never put me in harm’s way. He’s always been in my corner and there’s no backing out now.
“Relax, Princess. You’ve got this! There are little to no rules here, and you won’t have to hold back. You can let out all that pent up magic and hopefully, be able to get some relief from the changes you’re going through.”
I swallow the lump in my throat before tearing my eyes away from the building that seems to grow bigger by the second. “Who am I fighting?” My stomach spins with the nerves, and bile creeps up my throat.
“That’s the best part. Criminals! The guards have started this little after dark club, where a select few prisoners can fight for their freedom. If they lose, then it’s back on the shelf until they truly are rehabilitated. If they win, they’re returned to the soul well, where they can be reincarnated. So, if anything, you’re doing God’s work, making sure the wicked stay on lockdown.” He shrugs as if that justifies it all.
In a way, it does help. No one wants criminals who aren’t ready to be reborn returning to Earth. At the same time, if I lose, then I’m responsible for them being freed.
“Does Lucifer know about this place?”
“Purgatory?” Finn asks as we reach the monstrosity of a front door. “I certainly hope so. He built it.”
My eyes roll, nearly cracking an eye socket on the way around. “I meant the fight club.”
“Oh, God no. He’d blow a gasket.”
The hinges whine as the white doors creak open. Finn helps me off my horse, then ties them to the rail out front. He links me by the elbow and ushers me inside.
No going back now.
3
Alice
“No weapons,” a deep voice shouts from one of the landings overlooking the arena.
I hold my hands up in a sarcastic surrender, then undo the belt buckle holding my sword around my waist. One of the guards shoves a meaty hand toward me, silently demanding I fork over my contraband. I swear the guy’s pinky finger is the size of my forearm. He grumbles as he takes it away, making the air vibrate.
“What about magic?” I ask, glancing toward the top story but failing to find the body the voice belongs to.
“Only if the prisoner has it, too,” it booms again. This time, it sounds like it’s coming from behind me.
Prior to being let inside Purgatory, I thought this center circle area might’ve been a courtyard. Boy, was I wrong. Searching the space, my eyes widen with every inch I take in. This must be Hell’s version of the Colosseum. Each balcony overlooking the pit is decorated with beautiful arched cut outs for onlookers to watch the bloodbath. Carved figures of monsters wrap around the gigantic columns, illuminated by the dusky moonlight. It’s sort of beautiful… That is, if you ignore everything else.
The concrete is covered in darkened blobs where blood has spilled and stained the stone, time and time again. There are two sets of gallows on the far side, tucked against the curved wall, and a tunnel leading out of the space on either side of the arena. Both have metal hatched gates that can be hoisted from above. Then there’s the smell… The odor of iron and rust tells me some of the dried blood beneath my feet is recent and I try my best to shove that thought into the back of my mind.Farback.
It makes me wonder if the prisoners regularly fight against themselves or the other guards in these gladiator-style events. If it were me, and I had to go against one of the three orcs standing around the area, I think I’d take my chances on serving out my sentence.
From what I’ve been told, this space isn’t only used for conclaves but for executions as well. For those who live and breathe in Hell and break the law, their heads roll across this ground. Only after they die can their souls be placed in a jar where they can be shelved here in the warehouse and serve out their time.
Most of the ‘bad souls’ do their time and are released straight back into the soul well to be reincarnated. For some, though, no amount of torture, no vast number of years will right their wrongs. And when purgatory fills to the brim, this must be their way of freeing up space; by allowing prisoners to fight for their freedom. If they win, they’re allowed a second chance at life, but if they lose, their time doubles.
That’s only for true criminals with steep offenses, though. Small crimes are a whole different story. The gallows are for serial killers and baby snatchers. Those that try to rape young girls in the market, or organize a coup de’etat against the king. All of which tells me that this ground isn’t cleaned for a reason. It’s a reminder to those under the king to stay in their lane.
