Falling to hell

Down, down, down we fall, my arms tightly wrapped around the Devil, fear rocketing through my veins, his wings spread in flight as we descend at an ever increasing speed through the centre of the world. Some say the downside is deep below the Upper Realm, other say that it is merely on another plane of being, a different dimension beneath ours in which demons, Folk, and creatures of the night can travel from to torment our world- the world in which I am no longer apart of.

But I am not sure what to believe the further I fall, my head tightly pressed against the Devil's chest as he clutches me in his arms, his tail wrapped around my calf, as though attempting to keep me securely in place. On any other occasion, I might have yelled at him, possibly slapped him, and ordered him to keep his tail to himself, but as it stands, right now I could not be more grateful.

If I let go now, wherever the hell I am, I would surely die: fall endlessly through the earth and be swallowed up by the great, black abyss of death. If that isn't a compelling reason to hold on for dear life, then I don't know what is.

But the Devil, in the wonderfully collected way that an immortal man older than the world itself would, merely hums a faint tune, stroking my hair softly in a good natured attempt to calm me down. Quite frankly, it is not working.

"What is your name, Princess?" he asks smoothly, eyes flicking down to look at my curled up form pressed rigidly against his pale skin. The question seems an awful lot like a means of distraction, a vain attempt to take my mind off the pressing matters at hand. A tactless trial to try and get me to forget that we are falling into a seemingly bottomless abyss- perhaps even plunging to our imminent doom, who knows?

"You choose now of all times to get on a fucking first name basis, no fucking way, Mr Devil man," I half scream, absolutely terrified and more than unprepared to be faced with my inevitable demise. The Devil rolls his eyes, voicing a languorous sigh before continuing on regardless.

"Alright then, I will start. My name is Valerian Lucifer Mortazavi, though I much prefer to be called Valerian. Or Val, whatever you prefer, chérie," he adds, shrugging casually, as if we aren't just falling through the earth at insanely high speeds. Furiously, I bite my lip in order to stop my heart from bursting out of my chest as we continue to plummet downwards into nothingness. Here we are speeding at the speed of sound downwards towards whatever the hell the Devil is taking us towards, and he thinks it's a good time to share personal information?

If I hadn't been so terrified, I might have scoffed at the remark. But that doesn't prevent the sudden compulsion I feel at needing to answer.

"Elowyn di Luce," I manage to stutter out, half choking on my words in an effort to not throw up my single apple I ate for breakfast. "Or El. I don't really care, so long as you don't fuck around with me, then I have no means to get on bad terms."

Val's body shakes as he laughs, his arms closing around me further.

"Charming manners as always, Princess. But you have a beautiful name, Elowyn, rather enchanting, like yourself I suppose," he chuckles, clicking his tongue with a faint amusement. I hope desperately that he does not see the faint blush that dusts my cheeks, squeezing my eyes shut as I press myself further inward. It's not often that I get compliments from anyone- aside from Al that is, or at least compliments of genuine sincerity. But the conviction in which Valerian says such words is enough to send shivers up anyone's spine.

"Fucking flirt," I mutter under my breath, burying my face against his shoulder. For years I spent my life searching for the devil, and now here he is, every bit as charming and magical as I hoped he would be. Stealing me away from my boring palace life, and now taking me on some terrifying joy ride into a bottomless abyss where the only things thrown at me are soft spoken compliments, truly, he has ticked all the boxes.

Whether or not Valerian hears my remarks, he does not give any indication. Because the option is more amusing to me, I take it to assume he has heard, and is simply not replying- the smile that graces his lips seems to answer enough.

"Hold on now, we are nearly there," Valerian informs me, with a quick glance to check I am still alive. Then, tucking in his wings, we plummet downwards at speeds no mortal should ever dream of going, an uprush of cold air blowing up around us. I scream, clutching tighter onto him, no longer caring for any witty or flirtatious remarks he might throw at me. The Devil may have called me a demon, but I doubt that means I am immune to death. Either way, I don't particularly want to find out.

Upon seeing me panic, the devil laughs heartily, a wicked gleam in his eyes, teeth flashing with sharp canines: the picture of mischief. I would hazard a guess that he knows exactly what he is doing, I might even be bold enough to proclaim that he is purposely putting me through this rollercoaster of hell to scare me.

But the way he holds onto me is somewhat comforting, giving me at least the inkling of reassurance that wherever the hell we are going, at least he is going down with me. Then a light appears beneath our feet, opening up against the blackened gloom of our surroundings. The devil's arms wind around me tighter, his body bracing for impact. Then just like that, the light swallows us whole, leaving the suffocating darkness long behind us as Valerian lands in place in the middle of a spacious meeting room, clutching me in his arms, pinpointed by the gaze of two very intimidating, very large demons.