This piece contains spoilers. To read Pt.1 of Eternity in Hell... first, click the "Eternity in Hell" tag below.
The next morning arrived with a bitter mixture of joy and fear. The joy of the deceased being back and the fear of it all having been a dream. As the widower awoke and found his double bed empty again, he rushed out of the bedroom. The living room, the kitchen—nothing. With the nerves climbing up his back, he opened the door to the bathroom in a burst and found him there. The widower released a sigh of relief followed by a curious glance, as the deceased stared at himself in the mirror.
The deceased lifted his arms, his naked body looked the same as it was before his death. His skin felt the same to touch, smooth and warm. Even better than before, it seemed like the afflictions caused by his illness had completely faded away and healed. The only price to pay for it now was a pair of red horns, red wings, and a red tail with a little arrow at the end; his teeth too, were sharper now, particularly his fangs which were a lot more noticeable and pronounced.
The widower approached from behind and stroked his hand against the leathery texture of one of the wings on his lover’s back. The deceased looked at him with a smile, as the widower lifted the wing up and started passing his hand over it, extending it and examining it very closely. He took in all the details, even the most minute ones, like the little lines and crevices that connected to the thicker bones and bridged each of the wing’s sections back to the main bone.
“Can you feel this, my love?” the widower asked as he kept brushing the tip of his fingers on the wing’s surface.
The deceased nodded, “yes, I can. I feel all of it.” He simply looked back, also interested in the discoveries of his new form.
The widower kept moving his fingers on the wings, lifting his gaze up to look at his lover. “Turn around,” he ordered. The deceased complied, his wings standing majestically behind him now, almost the length of his own entire body, like a leather cloak used to protect oneself from the winter cold. The widower put both his hands on his lover’s chest, slowly moved one of them down to his abdomen, and the other up to his neck. Feeling his muscles, the tight but soft complexion of his flesh, the widower moved his gaze up to set his eyes on the eyes of the one standing in front of him.
“How do you feel?” asked the widower, passing his hands across his still body, feeling the rejuvenated muscles of his lover’s abdomen, neck, shoulders, and arms.
The deceased followed his lover’s hands, before looking back at him. “I feel better than I’ve ever felt. I don’t feel tired anymore, I don’t feel stressed, I don’t feel in pain. I feel free,” he said as his lips curved in a smile, moving his right hand to lay it on the widower’s cheek, who closed his eyes and felt his lover’s thumb brushing on his skin. He breathed in how real it felt, how much he had longed for this feeling to come back.
With his eyes still closed, the widower whispered, “I’m so glad that you’re back, my love. I’m so glad it worked. And now you’ll never leave me.”
The deceased extended his arms and took the widower from his back, pulling him in. He embraced his lover for a number of seconds each equal to a century for the both of them. Together, time and reality had no place; they were together and that was the only thing that mattered.
“I promised you that day that I’d never leave you, as long as you never leave me,” the deceased professed, separating from the body of his lover only to grab his chin with his free hand and rest his lips against his.
The widower broke the kiss as anguish was breaking his heart a little. “But… now what?” The widower rested his head on the neck of his lover.
“Now, we keep going,” declared the deceased, as he passed his hand through his lover’s hair.
“It’s only a matter of time, my love…” cried the widower, holding his hands at his lover's chest, feeling the warmth of his body.
The deceased moved his hands to surround the widower’s body, holding him tight, resting his lips on his head. “I don’t care. I don’t want to hide, not anymore. Whatever happens, happens. As long as we’re together, we can do anything.”
“As long as we’re together,” smiled the widower, reaching in for another kiss.
For the rest of the day, the two of them went on as if a normal day approached ahead of them. To the surprise of the town, the widower took charge of the church for that day. Everyone wondered where the priest might be, questioning if the widower had taken enough time to be working again after the funeral. It had only been a few days, after all.
The deceased donned his suit once more, this time, carefully using a knife to cut two meticulous holes on his shirt, so he could let his wings come out easily from them. He got in their car and drove to school to take charge of his classes. Once he arrived, he was met with shrieks of terror, as he entered the halls and walked towards the teacher’s office. Everyone he passed either screamed or was too scared to do so, only falling paralyzed to the sight of this dead man walking—now with wings, horns, and a tail that he cleverly wrapped around his waist like a belt.
Undeterred by the reactions of the people around him, the deceased walked towards his first class of the day, to the surprise of the substitute teacher that simply fell on the floor and crawled against the wall. Tears materialized in her eyes as her hand shakily pointed to the man now adjusting his books against the desk and walking towards the middle of the room. An ocean of silence and shock flooded the room, as the deceased asked, “Can someone remind me where we left off?”
After a few seconds of nothingness, a voice simply wobbled, “Chapter four…”
The horned figure smiled and nodded, “Can everyone open their books to chapter four?” he called as he turned his back and took notes on the blackboard.
No one could believe it, and no one knew how to react to whatever was happening in front of them. They could only follow the instructions of this man for the fear of something worse happening if they didn’t.
As the days continued, the tale of a demon roaming around the town only increased. Always regarded as a joke or simply a rumour to scare the community, kids were ignored by their parents as they told them that a demon taught classes at their school. They were always met with doubt until the shocking day in which they saw the widower and the deceased walking around the town with their elbows joint as they used to do before.
Every question, every scream, and every attack were met with a warm coolness by the couple, a blank stare with a smile and a polite salute, as they simply continued on with their day. Less and less kids started showing up to school, some even started moving out to live with their relatives until whatever was happening was resolved. People pleaded to the church to do something, but with the priest gone, the remaining few members of the clergy felt incapable of doing anything. Especially when one of the members of the clergy, and the closest one to the priest, was the husband of this demonic creature.
It didn’t take long for people to spread the rumour that the creature must have been the one responsible for the disappearance of the priest. And with that thought, some of them started to connect the dots. The priest presided at the church that day, the next day the widower was the one in charge and talk of a demon began. No one saw the priest after that day, and a demon started wandering the day after. It took them too long to realize, but they were all sure about it.
The problem now was how could they deal with it? What if he was immortal? What if killing him would curse them, their families, and the following generations forever? The town was too scared to confront the demon, but they knew they had to do something.
One night, the widower arrived home and was received by his lover who had prepared dinner for the both of them, leaving the radio playing their favourite songs.
“Mmm... it smells good,” the widower exclaimed as he closed the door behind him, leaving his coat by the entrance. He took off his shoes and walked in.
The deceased walked over from the kitchen and took his lover by the hand, moving him to the centre of the room.
A hand with the other’s hand, and the other on the waist, the two of them started circling in a tender embrace in the middle of the living room, as the radio continued to sing its concert for them.
“It will be done in about an hour, so we have some time. How was your day?” asked the deceased to his lover as they danced.
The widower smiled and followed the steps as he had done for years prior, “I see less and less people around, even at church. Even just walking home, the town is almost empty, and when they see me, they move away.”
“Yeah, several of my students have stopped coming to class,” explained the deceased, “even some of the teachers are not there anymore.”
The couple continued their dance, focusing on each other and each other’s words, as the world around them was set ablaze.
“What do you think is going on?” the widower wondered aloud.
“Honestly, I don’t know,” answered the deceased. “I’m not a bad person, do you think?”
“No, of course not,” exclaimed the widower. “You’re just you. Nothing’s changed about you, this doesn’t change anything.”
The deceased nodded, separating from his lover and helping him spin, then pulling him back towards his chest. “It will just take them a bit to get used to it.”
The widower laid his head on his lover’s shoulder, the dance slowing a bit. “There’s nothing wrong with being different.”
“Yeah…” the deceased wrapped his arms around his lover as they joyfully floated together.
Crash! A window shattered as a brick was thrown inside the couple’s house.
Outside, a menacing mane of fire lit up the streets.
“Get him out! If you get him out, we’ll just take him and leave you alone!” a voice yelled. A group of other voices echoed in shouts of agreement.
“What was that?” exclaimed the widower, suddenly dragged away from his bliss by reality.
They parted and the deceased started walking towards the door. “I’ll go see what they want,” he said, trying to keep his composure. His movement was stopped by his lover embracing his waist.
“Let me go! If you go, they’ll surely take you away from me!” the widower cried.
The deceased sighed and turned around to stare at the widower. He held his hands and kissed them. “Are you sure? What if they take you away from me?”
“I’ll talk with them. I’ll tell them how you’re not a bad person, how nothing’s changed. But if you go out, there will be no space for reason,” the widower pleaded.
The deceased nodded, left a kiss on his lover’s lips, before they separated, and the widower walked outside.
The front of their house was walled by a mob of people, all holding different tools: torches, stones, bricks, sticks, knives, and anything else that could be found.
“What is the meaning of this? What do you want?” the widower shouted at the mob.
The same man yelled once more, “We want that thing! We know what he did to Father Barton! He’s been cursing our families! We need to get rid of it!”
The widower frowned, trying to yell louder than he could, “He’s the same man that you all knew before! The same teacher, friend, and husband he’s always been!”
Muttering and screams ensued. “Give him to us, or we’ll take him by force!” the mob started moving forward, there was nothing the widower could do. A rock hit his head, making him fall to the ground. A moist, well-known liquid dripped from his head as he stood up and ran back inside, closing the door.
Another rock crashed into what was left of the window. The widower ran towards his lover. “You need to run away! You need to leave now! You need to—”
A kiss shut him up.
“It is me they want. If they have me, they’ll leave you alone,” the deceased explained gently.
The widower embraced him as tightly as he could. “No, please. No. If they take you, they’ll kill you! They’ll take you away from me!” he cried, his voice echoing with pain. The deceased passed his hand across his hair, “It won’t be the first time I’ll have come back.”
“No!” the widower shook his head. “I won’t give them the pleasure!” he wailed. “If you have to go, then I’ll take you. And I’ll go with you!”
Another rock was thrown against the window. People started to climb in through it as they tried to push the door in. It wouldn’t keep them out for long.
The deceased smiled at his lover. The two of them ran towards the back of the house. The widower stepped foot in the kitchen to grab a knife and proceeded to follow behind the deceased.
“They’re going towards the back; they’re trying to run for it!” yelled one of the voices.
The couple scrambled into the room where the deceased had been brought back before, closing the door behind them. Without anything to barricade it, they simply kneeled down in the middle of the circle.
“Are you sure about this, my beloved?” the deceased asked as he clasped his lover’s hands which still gripped tightly onto the knife.
The widower swallowed and stared directly at his lover. “An eternity of damnation is nothing if it’s an eternity with you, right?!”
A moment of silence.
“Right.” The deceased smiled, as the widower approached him for a kiss. The door was now the only thing that protected them from the hunters outside. From beyond they could hear the crackling of the fire and the fists of the mob banging relentlessly.
As the two men kissed, the widower pointed the knife towards his lover’s chest and with the help of the deceased, buried it deeply into his heart. A gasp and a cough. The deceased separated from the kiss as his body fell on the floor.
BANG!
A piece of wood went flying inside the room as hands crawled in and tried to find the doorknob to open it. The widower dug up the knife from his lover and pointed it at his neck, as another piece of wood flew in, and the door opened.
The mob barged in.
The widower moved the edge of the knife across his neck and the candles around the circle lit up.
The flame on each of the candles began to flicker, until they slowly faded out.
A voice echoed in the dark abyss. A tall man held his hand as his other hand rested on his waist. A handsome man with brown hair and hazel eyes danced a dance of generations with the pale, dark haired and blue-eyed man in front of him. The two demons floated to the orchestra that played for them for the rest of time.
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