A Cold Day in Hell excerpt
Wicked Witches, Devils & Dragons
© Paul DeThroe 2016
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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 http://pauldethroe.com |
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