Friday, February 17, 2017

A Cold Day in Hell (The Day that Jack Frost Died) excerpt

A Cold Day in Hell excerpt
Wicked Witches, Devils & Dragons
© Paul DeThroe 2016
Image result for ice devil



Deep within the bowels of Hell, rumors had been swirling for weeks about Jack Frost being seriously ill. Everlasting fires started slowly died out, brimstone stopped falling, and instead of the gnawing of flesh, cold shivers overtook the masses of eternally damned sinners and demons.

Not that this was unexpected. Jack Frost was a notorious malefactor, and it was well known in certain dark circles that if he ever died, he’d become a top Chieftain of Hell. He’d been the death of millions of humans, countless animals, had laid waste to entire armies and had generally been a global nuisance for tens of thousands of years.

However, what the powers that be in Hell failed to realize was that serving as a mere chieftain was far below Jack’s boundless ambitions.

The tortured, waiting in purgatory to be transformed into full-fledged demons, were delighted for the short reprieve from the flames that incessantly licked their flesh. Of course, their demonic tormentors were none too happy about the icy turn of events. Their jobs and very existence were in jeopardy because of the dramatic drop in temperature. If they could no longer torture cursed souls with the prodigious heat that poured in from the lake of fire, they’d have no purpose. So the demons formed a lobbying committee and took their complaints to the King of Hell himself, Satan Lucifer.

Satan was in no mood to deal with petty grievances from a whining contingent of demons. He was already stressed out from being forced to deal with the coming of Ol’ Jack, who was far from your ordinary new arrival in Hell. Jack was very powerful spirit and Satan knew he’d demand much power. Satan wasn’t a very generous devil to begin with, but who was he to deny the terrible and infamous Jack Frost?

He knew that Jack would be arriving in his Hellish lair soon, so he sent the demons scurrying away to fend for themselves and find their own ways to stay warm. He simply didn’t have time or patience to solve their petty problems. His more pressing problem was finding a way to coexist with one of the most evil souls to have ever existed.

Right on cue, Jack rode into Satan’s lair on the stinging fingers of some of the last arctic winds known to exist on Earth. The plummeting temperatures that accompanied Jack caused Satan to see his breath as frozen mist, instead of sulfurous smoke, for the first time. The old devil instinctively wrapped his arms around himself but still shook uncontrollably. “W-w-welcome t-to H-Hell, J-J-Jack,” the devil stammered with an unconcealed disdain.


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 Paul DeThroe
Paul DeThroe
http://pauldethroe.com

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