Hell Hath No Fury Read online

  “You’ll get used to it.”

  A buzz sounded in my ears, as if a wasp had burrowed itself into my brain. “What was that?”

  “Something else you’ll get used to. The signal for a pick-up. Let’s go.” Emaline slipped out the door before I could protest.

  So, I had to wear this tacky outfit and deal with a constant buzzing in my head. Pandora tortured her workers. Time to find the complaint box.

  I followed Emaline, feeling a bit like a dog on a choke chain. There might not have been any fire and brimstone in Hell, but I was sure Pandora would find an improved misery to inflict on me if I didn’t do my job.

  To my relief, most of the crowd had dissipated in the living area. The game still had a few guys transfixed, so they didn’t even glance at me, but the two or three other people wandering around stared at me openly.

  “Didn’t your parents ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”

  They didn’t avert their eyes. Damn, but these people were strange. Is this what death did to you? I didn’t want to become like that. No, thanks.

  Aside from the unwanted attention, I was glad to see Jared was nowhere in sight. The longer he didn’t see me in this costume, the better.

  “Dawdling isn’t going to get this over with any quicker,” Emaline said. She had one of the double doors cracked open and motioned for me to follow her.

  So, I did. Through the doors was a hallway, a couple of potted plants in the corners. It was nondescript, like any normal office building hall. And there was an elevator, but no sign of stairs. I guess elevators always worked in Hell.

  “We’re on the second floor,” Emaline said. “But this is the only way to the reception area.”

  The elevator dinged, the door slid open, and we stepped in. A couple seconds later it dinged again and the doors slid back open. I hadn’t even felt the thing move.

  We stepped out, and all I saw were eight other elevator doors, aside from our own. Strange. Every floor must have had a separate elevator, so as not to tie up the lines. I couldn’t imagine how much finagling of the blueprints it took to get that to work out. Probably none. No one ever said Hell had to be dimensionally sound.

  Emaline turned the corner out of the elevator cul-de-sac, and I rushed to catch up. Next was a long hallway with several machines that looked like ATMs built into the walls. Another Welcomer was busy at one of them.

  “This is the first stop once you get here. All you need to do is approach a panel and press the number for the floor plus the first letter of your first name.” She pressed the two then the E. It spit a card out at her, and she removed it. “This gives you the name of your pick-up and some basic info on them. Usually you’ll have more than one person to escort at once.”

  “What if I hit the wrong number?” It might be fun to mess with part of Pandora’s dealings.

  “It won’t work.” Emaline smiled, which was almost as grating as Pandora’s laugh. “While you’re typing, the machine also reads your fingerprints.”

  No fun.

  The machine buzzed.

  “Hm. Another pick-up? I could have sworn there was only supposed to be one.”

  It made a grinding noise, paused, then finally spit out a second card. Even Hell couldn’t keep computers functioning properly.

  Emaline snatched the card and handed it to me. “No matter. One or two, we’re here anyway. Please, follow.”

  The name Douglas Kraemer was printed in bold letters across the top of the card. According to the note under his name, he died of a broken neck.

  “Is this all we get? A name and cause of death?”

  Emaline leaned over and looked at the card. “That’s a bit odd. There tends to be more information to help you try to soothe the deceased if needed. See?” She handed over the other card, which had a full paragraph of information under the name, but she took it back before I read it all.

  I guessed Douglas didn’t need to be soothed. Oh, well.

  We reached the end of the hallway and turned another corner. The mass of people in what looked like a large bank was astounding. There were thousands, maybe millions, since I couldn’t see where the mass of people ended. Most looked to be in long lines, waiting to see the next available teller. Hidden behind the lines was a large room with chairs bolted to the floor, which looked more like an airport. Three people sat comfortably in a niche closest to us. The Welcomer I had seen earlier was talking to one of these people.

  “Everyone needs to be processed before they’re taken to their floor,” Emaline said. “As you can see, Hell is pretty backed up. We have the easy job. It’s those poor saps trying to figure out which floor everyone needs to go to, triple or quadruple checking, who have it hard.”

  “Is there ever a mistake made?”

  “Never. That’s why it takes so long. At least, none that I’ve heard of.

  “There’s our first charge.” Emaline pointed toward a young woman in the niche. She couldn’t have been any older than sixteen.

  “So young.”

  “Our floor tends to get the younger ones. It can be difficult because the elderly are less shocked that death snuck up on them. Poor child. Says here she died of infection after having an abortion. It’s best not to bring up things like that with them, though. We’re mainly here to answer questions and show them to their new home, not remind them of their misery in life.”

  This was all too much. To imagine such a thing had claimed her life, and now she had to suffer in Hell. She couldn’t even catch a break after death.

  Emaline approached the girl. “Sarah. Hi, there. I’m Emaline, and this is Moira.”

  “Where am I?” Sarah asked. “Everyone I ask keeps saying Hell, but this sure doesn’t seem like Hell.”

  “They have the right of it, dear. And we’re here to show you where you’ll be living. It’s not so bad. You get your own room, and anything you desire, within reason.”

  Sarah blinked up at us, and then slowly rose from her chair.

  Emaline hooked her arm with Sarah’s. “Now, where is our other charge?”

  Douglas clearly wasn’t the remaining old woman moldering in the corner of the waiting room. I guess you never knew, especially with parents’ naming practices nowadays, but that old lady was far removed from current trends.

  A man getting on in years strolled into the waiting area, likely from one of the unending lines out front. This couldn’t be him, could it? Emaline said our floor usually harbored a younger crowd. His hair was a strong gray and wrinkles creased his skin. He had to be at least sixty.

  “Douglas?” I asked.

  He placed his hands in his pockets and smiled, one that made me feel greasy all over. “That’s me.”

  I figured I’d give this Welcomer business a whirl with Emaline still around. “I’m Moira, here to show you to your floor.”

  He looked me up and down. I felt as if I were a lollipop, and he was eager to take a lick. Creepy.

  Douglas strode over. “Pleasure.” He took my hand and planted a kiss on the back.

  His lips felt slimy, and I immediately yanked my hand away, wiping it off on the scrap of fabric on me claiming to be shorts. I knew he was being polite, but for some reason the gesture seemed more sinister, dirty. Something wasn’t right with this guy.

  He smiled at me. Not a normal smile, that.

  Only a short trip to our floor, and I’d be rid of him for good.

  “Shall we?” Emaline asked. She headed to the elevators, still latched to Sarah, and Douglas and I trailed close behind.

  “Why am I here?” Sarah asked.

  My breath caught in my throat. I hadn’t got a good look at the card, and I wondered if the answer was on it in bolded letters. An answer that this girl would get, even though I hadn’t been allowed the same.

  “I’m sorry,” Emaline said. “I don’t know that. Only you can look into your heart and find that answer. No one else can offer you that information.”

  The same cryptic answer. If Pandora needed all
these people to keep Hell running well, and if she wasn’t all knowing, maybe I could get away with more than I’d first assumed.

  Emaline untangled herself from Sarah and leaned over to me. “They always ask that. No matter what.”

  “Always?”

  “Yes, on our floor, at least. It might be different on other floors, but everyone who comes here has no clue why they’re here.” She latched back onto Sarah, then rattled off the rules of Hell loud enough that we’d all hear.

  Douglas seemed a man who might take full advantage of free wishes. I snatched some glances at him sideways. There was something off about him, and not his age.

  “You’re quite beautiful, Moira,” he said.

  Normally, if a guy complimented me like that, I’d make some snide comment, either flirting or blowing off, depending on if I liked him or not. This time, I didn’t know what to say. His words sounded like they were coated in oil, slick and sticky.

  So, I just walked faster. I couldn’t push the button enough once we made it to the elevator. And when the doors finally opened, I froze, not wanting to be in such a confining space with this man.

  Stupid. I was being an idiot, acting like a child. Douglas wouldn’t do anything to me. Pure paranoia.

  I was horrible at talking myself off of ledges.

  Again, no other options presented themselves, so I stepped into the elevator with the others. The two-second ride was far too long. I dashed out into the hallway. “Here we are. Second floor. Home sweet home.” I flung the double doors open, relieved to see the sports freaks. After the close encounter with Douglas, I wouldn’t have minded watching a game with them.

  Sarah ran straight to the kitchen and found a box of chocolates in a drawer. Ah, comfort food.

  “I’ll be seeing you around, Moira,” Douglas said and drifted through one of the other doors, thankfully disappearing.

  Not if I had anything to say about it.

  “Just remember,” Emaline said. “Always give them the same answer to that question. Don’t try to figure it out from their card.”

  “Why can’t they know?” Why can’t I know?

  “It’s something we all have to discover for ourselves. And those that do know, you tend not to see much.” She sighed.

  She knew. The pain scribbled over her face, I doubted I’d ever see her after today. From what I had seen of this floor, it was a bunch of endless hallways with a countless number of doors. Those who wished it could easily get lost or hide. I mean, Jared had said you could have anything you wished. What if you wished to fade away?

  Emaline threw Sarah’s card up into the air, and it vanished. I did the same with Douglas’ card, not ending its existence fast enough.

  This was a place where anything could appear or disappear. On the surface it seemed ideal, but what I saw in Emaline’s eyes hinted otherwise. Now I didn’t want to know why I was here.

  Emaline wandered off, seemingly lost in her head. It wasn’t until I could no longer find her that I realized Douglas never asked me why he was in Hell.

  Oh, shit.

  * * * * *

  It had been a week since I’d heard Pandora’s agonizing laugh, although I still felt it vibrating in my bones. The only way I could tell the passage of time in this place was by when I had to work. The Welcomers were the only clocks in Hell.

  Amazingly, I’d managed to avoid Jared mostly. There were a few close calls, like the one time he cornered me when I was in my uniform. The buzz had rattled my brains, calling me to duty, so I ran off, realizing once I made it to the lobby that Jared hadn’t reacted to my bare flesh like he had when we were alive. Odd, that.

  I’d only caught Douglas in my peripheral a few times, creepily watching me. More like stalking. Which made me wonder if he hovered around more often than I noticed, adept at keeping himself hidden. The man gave me serious heebie-jeebies.

  All in all, I wasn’t having fun. Everyone could have anything they wished, except me. I wanted out of this place, out of this costume, and away from thoughts of screwing my ex-boyfriend. No matter how hard I yearned for all of those things, I was stuck ferrying dead people from the lobby to the second floor of Hell and puzzling whenever Jared gave me a small smile and wave from across a room.

  I hadn’t seen Emaline since my first day, as predicted. And she had been right – everyone I escorted asked me the Question. Why, why, why? Sometimes I wanted to run down to the lobby and shout, “I don’t know why the fuck you’re here, just deal.” It was hard enough being polite in the first place, but I was always on the edge of flipping out when they asked the Question. I was more pissed at myself, though, for being as stupid as these people and asking Pandora the same thing. Then again, as many of my boyfriends had pointed out when we were in the middle of breaking up, one of my problems was that I didn’t know when to keep my mouth shut. Not my fault they saw that as a flaw.

  And hearing the Question time after time only made the absence of it from Douglas more concerning. But there was nothing I could do about it, aside from avoiding the creeper.

  I knew I didn’t want to become like Emaline, a face half-remembered by a stranger. Nothing more I enjoyed than standing out in a crowd. Most men were drawn to me because of it, especially Jared. See, a lot of men, at least the ones I attracted, equated outgoing to easy. It was coincidence that in my case, they were mostly right. I mean, I did date Jared, so my standards weren’t too high – once a cheater, always a cheater. And oh, was he a cheater.

  My need to be the center of attention and fear of becoming forgotten weren’t going to be addressed by hiding in my room from my ex-boyfriend. I’d quenched sexual desire before. Sometimes. Okay, maybe once. Not sure if that time counted, though. I could do it now. After all, I was dead – I shouldn’t have felt a damned thing, and likely what I thought was an intense need to have my way with Jared on my deathday was a holdover from life. It had been a week, so I likely wouldn’t feel anything if he got close. Sure.

  I wasn’t good at convincing myself of these things in life. Some things don’t change.

  The thought that finally pushed me out the door and into the common area was disturbing the sports freaks. Kicking them off the couch and changing the channel would make me feel better.

  I slipped into the living room. No Jared. Sweet. Only two guys sat glued to a football game on the screen. One shouted and slapped his hand on the arm of the sofa; the other pumped his fist in the air. Opposing teams. Fun. I wondered if there was anything to bet with in Hell. No matter. They’d had their amusement; now I’d have mine.

  I stepped up to the back of the couch and rested my hands on the soft cushion, then waited. Don’t ask me the physics of it, but if a woman stands looming long enough, even the most hardcore of sports addicts will tear their eyes away from the game to look at the woman – an oh-shit look on his face – and ask “What?” in his most pathetic, pleading voice. Or he’d be short and snap the question, but that would mean it would be all over.

  Presence. Yeah, that had to be the key. And I had it. Something almost comparable to Pandora’s sultry voice.

  Both men turned their heads at the same time. “Um, you need something?” one asked. He removed his cap, combed his hair with his fingers, and placed the cap on backwards.

  Oh, I had him. “The remote, please.”

  The other guy, who wasn’t smart enough to hide his receding hairline with a hat, tried to interject. “But...”

  I turned my full attention on him. That shut him up. “Problem?”

  He shook his head and shoved the remote into my hand. They both bolted. It had been easier than usual, but I guessed Emaline had been right when she said they respected the uniform.

  “You were always good at that, Moira,” Jared said from behind me. “Scaring the crap out of men was your favorite sport.”

  “Boys,” I said, without turning to look at him. “None ever proved to me that they deserved the title of man. Not even you.”

  Silence from him. That was a f
irst – he’d always had a retort in life. I finally turned to face him, seeing that weak, apologetic look that he had given me the first day I’d arrived. It sent shivers through me, and the sense that he was closer to knowing too much, like Emaline.

  Maybe I’d be nice. Just this once. “Want to watch a movie?” I waved the remote in the air.

  The desperate look evaporated as he shook his head. “You’re a piece of work, Moira.”

  Others started filtering into the communal area. “I hear sports have been cancelled for the day,” Sarah said. She still seemed adrift. Once in a while I caught her looking in corners, searching for something she’d lost.

  “Movie time,” I said, cracking a grin at her. By then there were half a dozen others around, all eager to have a shot at the TV.

  So commenced the arguing on what movie to watch. Comedy, drama, chick flick. The last got a resounding no from the guys and me. We finally settled on Hellraiser – horror, and considering where we were, comedic flavor that was never intended by its creators.

  Since I was the one who stole the remote, I demanded first choice of place to sit. I made myself comfortable in a corner of the couch and wished for a stool to prop my feet on and a bowl of butter-soaked popcorn, both popping into existence.

  And then Jared sat down beside me.

  Too many of us wanted to squeeze on the couch, so he was pressed up against me, his bare arm rubbing against mine. A flutter started in my nether regions and cascaded through my body.

  So much for not being horny in Hell.

  Somehow, I’d have to get through this movie without incident. The screen of the TV flickered like we were in a real movie theatre, and the lights dimmed. Who the heck wished that? Sitting in the dark with Jared warm against me and my non-existent hormones hopping wasn’t a good combination.

  Then he draped his arm over my shoulders, and the urge to jump his bones was replaced by a sense of calm and comfort I’d never imagined was possible. I had felt a hint of this for a sliver of time back in the bathroom, but nowhere near as complete and encompassing. It was like I was soaking in a warm bath and the only things missing were aromatherapy beads.