Naphal felt this pervasive sense of dejá vu as she walked home from Lucifer’s palace, retracing the same route she had taken the day before, the same faces ignoring her as they minded their one business. It was a strange feeling, but one she was used to, after all, she did walk down this street almost every day. There were some differences, though. The lights seemed to shine dimmer today, the streets a bit less crowded than usual, sin and vice seemingly under control and not spilling out onto the sidewalk like it usually did.
She walked down the grimy street at her normal pace, blocking out the sounds of the street and hearing only her brain sounding off its alarms, though they seemed quieter than usual. Though, her trance would soon be broken by a buzz in her pocket, then another, and another. She begrudgingly yanked the phone from her pocket, seeing five unanswered messages from Tiff, each in all caps and screaming loudly for her to come over to her house. Naphal sighed when she saw them, taking a turn down a crowded alleyway and entering a side door into a tall apartment building. The structure itself was dilapidated, with windows busted out for all kinds of reasons and the bricks it was built on melting in the crimson fire of hell’s landscape.
She wondered how anyone could willingly live here, then she remembered that the rent in this place was practically nothing, and it all started to make sense. She walked up a set of rickety stairs, feeling like she was going to fall through as she made it to the top floor, the smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol filling her nose like she had just dunked her head in the deep end of a swimming pool.
Naphal stepped up and knocked on the door marked 513, pattering footsteps running up and unhooking the latch with intensity.
“Naphy!” Tiff squealed, tightly wrapping her arms around the assassin’s chest and waist, “I’m so happy you’re here!”
“What are you doing in this place? I thought you were kicked out.”
“I was, but the landlord let me back in so I could pack my stuff.” She paused, “I’m so glad I get to move in with you! I’ve never been in a palace before.”
“Sometimes, I wish I hadn’t.”
“Oh, don’t be such a downer, Naphy. It’s your big day tomorrow.”
“So everyone keeps telling me.“
Tiff frantically stuffed her things into a large suitcase, “Was your mother fine with me moving in?”
“She didn’t say a word.” Naphal lied, now remembering that she may or may not have told her mother about this little plan of theirs.
“I’m guessing that’s good.”
“My mother spends most of her days angry or complaining, so, yes.”
Tiff hugged the assassin again, “Oh, I’m so excited!”
Naphal weakly hugged her back, “I’m excited too.”
The succubus packed the last vestiges of her belongings, which was mostly clothes anyway, and slammed the suitcase shut as tight as she could muster. She nearly ran Naphal over on her way out of the crappy apartment, dragging her bags down the stairs and out the side door, the assassin following a ways behind her. Tiff waited in the street until the assassin popped out herself, then let her through to lead the way.
“Tiff.” Naphal said as they began to walk.
“Yeah?”
“Have you ever felt like you’re just repeating the same steps every single day?”
“Of course.” The succubus said matter-of-factly, “I stand at that same corner, on the same block, in front of the same alley everyday. I see new faces, maybe new bodies if I’m lucky, but it usually is all the same. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. It just feels like today I’ve been retracing my steps from yesterday.”
“If I dragged you in the bar again, you would be.”
Naphal chuckled, “I guess you’re right.”
“Do you feel that way?”
“Today I do. I had to speak to Queen Lucifer again, and then I sat in the palace square, and it all feels like I’ve been here before.”
“You’re the only person I know who’d act like talking to the queen of all demons is some boring task.”
The assassin sighed, “You have no idea.”
“I really don’t, the only time I’ve even been anywhere near her is that time I tried to do my job at palace square and ended up having a nice night with one of the guards.”
“You slept with a guard?”
“For a little bit, before we were caught by the high commander and I almost got a trident up my ass. But hey, at least I got paid.”
“I guess that’s all that matters.”
Naphal led the girl and her stuffed suitcase through the grimy streets of the city, taking her to the suburbs, where the other members of the infernal court ruled their respective roosts. At the end of a long stretch of mansions sat Marchosias’ palace, a place that elicited a blank reaction from the assassin, but it made her best friend light up like a Christmas tree. Tiff was practically jumping as Naphal unlocked the door with her key, the succubus running in the palace without a care in the world, a toothy grin glued on her face.
She sat her bags down on the floor and took a look around, seeing the queen of wrath herself perched above the kitchen, staring out the window like she always did.
“Good afternoon, Naphy.” She spoke with an odd softness. “I see you’ve brought a visitor.”
“Yes, mother, I did.”
Marchosias suddenly flew down from her perch, landing directly in front of the succubus who had entered her home. She glared at her, looking her up and down for any imperfections, the poor succubus not knowing what to do other than stand still and salute.
The wrath queen sighed, “Why does she have a suitcase?”
“I need to talk to you, mother.“
“I feel like this conversation should have happened a while ago.”
“It should have, but I forgot.”
Tiff raised her hand slightly, “Queen Marchosias, May I say something?”
“No.”
“Mother.”
“She’s a succubus, Naphal! A whore, a tramp, what have you! She has no place in my royal palace.”
Naphal huffed, “That succubus is my best friend, and if I didn’t let her in, she would have been forced to live out on the street. You know how civilians are. They wouldn’t have been too kind, to say the least.”
“I know that, but-“
“Whatever you’re going to say, I don’t want to hear it. Tiff doesn’t deserve to be made into some pervert’s plaything just because you’re in a mood.”
“And just because you’re ms. big shot doesn’t mean that you can talk back to me.”
The assassin grabbed Tiff’s bags off the floor, “C’mon, Tiff, I’ll take you to one of the guest rooms.”
“Those are for guests only.” Marchosias sneered.
“She is our guest.”
The wrath queen scoffed, “Y’know what, fine! She can stay as long as she doesn’t come home smelling like sweat and old cologne.”
“Thank you, mother.”
“Just take her to her room.”
Naphal did as she was told, leading the succubus down a spacious hallway, where in the middle sat a small set of double doors, just tall enough for the women to enter through. The assassin placed her friend’s bags down on the cot that had stood uninhabited for the better part of whoever knows how long, wiping some of the dust off with her hand.
“I know it’s not the greatest arrangement, but it’s better than that nasty old apartment or a bench on the street.”
“Yeah.”
Naphal looked up to see Tiff’s eyes locked on her own feet, a sudden change for the usually cheerful succubus.
“Tiff, what’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing. I just didn’t mean to start a fight between you and your mom.”
“Don’t worry about her. She’s in one of her moods again.”
“Moods?”
The assassin sighed, “Once or twice a month she gets like this, getting mad at everything and being a general pain in the ass. It’s tradition at this point.“
“So it’s like… that time of the month?”
“I’d like to imagine it has nothing to do with… that… but I guess it could be.” Naphal sighed again, “It is a bit odd this time, though. She was perfectly jovial this morning.”
“Maybe something bad happened.”
“My mother would have told me if something happened. I’m old enough now where she can’t keep secrets from me.”
Tiff placed a finger under her chin, “Why do you still live with her anyway? I moved out of my mom’s house years ago, and you’re still here.”
“Where else would I go? Being an assassin is my livelihood, but it’s not like that makes me enough to buy my own home. Hell’s housing prices are absurd to begin with, let alone finding a secure enough place.”
“Secure?”
“Did you not hear the part about me being an assassin? You know, a being that lives in the darkness and waits for their chance to strike?”
“I know what an assassin is.”
Naphal took a deep breath and let it out, “I can’t just live anywhere. It has to be somewhere where the family and friends of my victims can’t get to me.”
Tiff walked over, opening her suitcase, trading places with the girl who accompanied her to her dwelling. “I guess I understand. It must be scary just having to think about everyone who wants you dead.”
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“It can be.”
“I can live anywhere, it’s just that I never really got to live anywhere near as nice as this place. You know, when I was little, I always dreamed of living in a palace.”
“So you’ve told me, hundreds of times.”
The succubus chuckled, “Guess that shows how much I’ve wanted it, huh?”
“I guess so.”
There was a loud knock at the door, “Ladies, dinner!” Marchosias’ voice echoed through the walls.
The evening went on as almost normal for the assassin, eating her meal in abject silence as her mother and the succubus had a mildly pleasant conversation over whatever happened to be on their minds, Naphal not putting in a word. She watched the wrath queen slowly grow comfortable around the smiley succubus, who had gotten over her own dower mood and began to go on her usual rapid fire tangents and shaggy dog stories. They continued through the night before the trio decided to head off to bed, Naphal performing her nightly routine in the same order she always did, before lying down on her bed, where her thoughts would run wild like a lioness in the savannah.
That feeling of deja vu came back again as Naphal laid alone in the darkness, just like she had done the night before, though this time it didn’t seem to wane. She tossed and turned until she couldn’t anymore, then looked up at her high ceiling, staring into its carved designs like they were constellations in the moonlight.
Her mind thought up all kinds of scenarios, playing them for her in graphic detail. There were some where she’d triumph, though there seemed to be more where she ended up a cadaver for experiments or a taxidermied head on the wall. She could barely close her eyes, let alone sleep a lick. Every muscle in her body tensed, her palms were sweaty, her breaths were heavy, and her mouth was drier than hell itself. Time ticked by at a sluggish pace, the night sky still shining through her window even though it felt like she had been lying there for days.
She began to dwell on the deja vu, irritating herself with the thought of the monotony of it all. Every day it was the same routine. She woke up, walked the same path, rinse, repeat, and back again. It was then when the notion of killing Mephistopheles became appealing, a not-too-distant future where she could have her wildest dreams fulfilled and she could live the life she always wanted, far away from here, never having to take another life, but for the moment, that was still no more than a wish.
Eventually, her body gave out long enough for her to fall asleep for a couple hours or so, not enough to be considered healthy, but enough to say that she had at least slept a bit. She was soon woken up rather rudely by her mother, shouting something indistinct about a car at the front of the building. Naphal forced herself out of bed and walked to the front of the palace, seeing a jet black limousine waiting in the driveway, windows tinted to the point of pure darkness.
Marchosias looked down at her only child with a mix of excitement and fear, “You’ll do great, Naphy.” She said softly, “Just come back in one piece, okay?”
“Is this…?”
The window of the limousine rolled down slowly to reveal the face of the high commander, “We don’t have much time.” She bellowed. “It’s now or never.”
The assassin took in a deep breath, then opened the car’s wide door, waving her mother goodbye as she entered the void that was the inside of the vehicle, black leather seats matched with a grey interior, devoid of anything resembling light. She sat down next to Leviathan, wearing her full military regalia, though this time she seemed a bit more unkempt than before. Her long white hair was flowing in all directions as she read the Manila folder she held in her hand.
“I’m sorry to have woken you up this early in the morning, but this mission has become more urgent as the days have gone on. His army is steadily approaching fighting capacity.”
“And you couldn’t deal with it?”
“It’s your job to kill him, not mine.” Naphal sighed, the commander continued, “This is a map of his territory. It’s far off in the outskirts, about as away from civilization as you can get. The terrain is flat, but dangerous. Just make sure to watch your back at all times in case of counter-assassins or creatures.” She pointed to a particular spot on the map, circled neatly with a red marker, “That is his palace. You will break in there and finish the job. It’s much easier said than done, but her majesty has faith in you.”
“Her majesty?”
“We’ve sent seven assassins to finish him off and every time they’ve been humiliated. We have no clue what he does to them, but usually when they come back, they’re far from how they were when they left.”
“So… torture?”
“Psychological, it seems. There were no physical signs.”
Naphal looked out the window as the car began to move, “And you think I’ll end up like them?”
“I have no clue. It’s all up to how you handle the mission.” The woman sighed, “The plan is simple, as I’ve said before. You break into his palace, hide in the shadows, then remove him. It’s that simple.”
“I guess so.“
“Lucifer has full confidence in you. I don’t know why, but she does. Something about you makes her excited. Only Lilith knows with that one, she’s always on about something.”
“I assume you don’t like her.”
Leviathan huffed, “I don’t like it when she meddles in my business. If she wanted to be a commander, she should’ve stayed in heaven, but that’s besides the point. What matters is that you complete your mission and walk out alive.”
“I am good at my job, commander.”
“So I’ve heard. I’ve read some of your old case files, and I must say, I was rather impressed myself. I just hope you can translate those successes into a situation like this.”
“You know, a bit more confidence in me would be nice.”
“When you’ve had my job for long enough, confidence starts to become a burden.”
Naphal stared out the blackened window, noticing them getting further from the city with each passing second, “Where are you taking me, commander?”
“To the River Styx. There, you will take a ferry ride to the outskirts.”
“Why do I need a ferry ride?”
“The bridge across the river is being repaired. It’s either this or we make you swim.”
The assassin grumbled, then turned her head back towards the window, looking at hell’s fiery landscape as the limousine bounced up and down on the terrain. Her mind began to play its usual tricks, playing scenario after scenario, just like the nighttime, except now even more graphic. She could feel butterflies flutter in her stomach, growing stronger and stronger until eventually it felt more like buzzards were flying around in there, waiting for prey. The car finally came to a bumpy stop on the river bank, Leviathan and the girl getting out of the vehicle, standing over a nearby dock.
“Good luck, Naphal.” The commander said bluntly, “You’ll need it more than most.”
“Thank you, commander.”
“Oh, and one more thing,” she reached into her pocket, pulling out a strange gold necklace that the assassin had never seen the likes of, “Her majesty wanted you to have this, she says it’s for good luck.”
Naphal looked it over, it was broken, beaten, the gold chipped off a bit with cracks showing in its exterior. She didn’t know what it was, though it seemed to be a familiar shape.
“What is this?”
“I have no clue. It’s something the queen has had since her youth, she says. All I know is that it’s old and that it burns my hand to the touch.”
The assassin placed the necklace around her neck, saying goodbye to the commander as she walked down the dingy dock. At the end of it laid an old canoe, tied neatly to a metal pole that protruded out of the wood. She approached the boat slowly, trying her best to not fall through the gaps in the old wood, or have it collapse under her weight. A figure soon began to walk up to her as she got closer, grabbing her hand and leading her down to the end of the dock with a sudden burst.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” The woman said, flipping her hat up so it no longer covered her eyes. “You look exhausted, would you like some coffee?”
“That… would be nice, thank you.”
“Here, follow me.”
Naphal followed the mysterious being that roamed the docks, her long violet hair put up in a skinny ponytail, her clothes a dark shade of blue with golden fringes. She wore a cowboy hat, something the assassin had only seen in movies, and the boots to match, all colored with the same blue that covered the rest of her body. Though, the assassin noticed something a bit off about this demon. She had no horns, nor a tail, something that was seemingly standard for everyone else.
“Here we are.” The woman sang, “Make yourself feel “comfy, I’ll go fix some of that coffee.”
“Thank you, Miss…?“
“Charon.” She said with a grin, “But most people just call me the ferryman.”
“I would hate it if someone only called me by my job title.”
“It’s not my favorite, but you know mortals. They only hear stories and myths, never choosing to understand the world that lives outside of their comprehension.”
“If they can’t comprehend something, how are they supposed to understand it?”
Charon stared down at her coffeemaker, “I guess that’s true. Maybe we overestimate those creatures, expecting them to know every single little detail. Only the cynical ones learn about death.”
“Humans are strange.“
“They are, but it’s the fun kind of strange. They all have their own stories to tell.”
The woman handed Naphal a steaming mug of coffee, the assassin taking a sip and walking towards the door. Charon wasn’t far behind her, following the girl out the door and grabbing an oar from the holder she kept next to the entrance. The ferryman quickly untied the knot her boat was restrained with, letting Naphal in the canoe first before settling in herself, the pair sitting across from one another as she placed her oar in the water, slowly moving the old boat forward.
“So.” Charon spoke suddenly, “You must be the girl Lucifer told me about. The assassin, right?”
Naphal groaned, “I’m starting to think she told everyone.”
The ferryman laughed, “I don’t know about that, but I know she told me. She told me where you were going, and that she would pay me your fee later.”
“I thought this mission was supposed to be confidential.”
“You don’t have to worry, sweetie. I’m great with secrets, besides, I don’t get out much anyway.”
“I’d think it’d be better if no one knew.”
Charon smiled, “It’s a big mission, lots of moving parts. There’s a lot of coordinating that needs to be done.”
“I know, but it wouldn’t hurt to not tell everyone in earshot.”
“Lucy was never one for secrets anyway, she’s always liked spilling the beans, as the kids say.”
“And how would you know that?”
The ferryman chuckled, “Let’s just say I’ve been around a while.”
During a silence that traveled between them, Naphal began to take a better look at her surroundings, noticing that the hellfires were growing weaker with every movement the boat made, the sounds of the souls in the river screaming for mercy filled her ears as the old canoe floated down the calm waterway. She sat still, staring at her own reflection, letting the anxiety run its course through her mind like it always did, though today it seemed to be louder, a bit more aggressive. Seconds felt like hours on the river, time passing her by as the world around her grew dark and cold. The silence, however, was broken by the humming of the ferryman, who whistled a tune as she rowed the rickety boat forward.
“You know,” she began out of the blue, “I think I recognize you from somewhere.”
“It was probably from the newspaper.”
“No, I don’t read that stuff, it’s always so sensationalized.” She said with a laugh, “I think it was from a long time ago, in fact, if my memory serves me correctly, you were small enough to fit in your mother’s arms.”
“You remember when I was a baby?”
“Yes! You were with Queen Marchosias, she said that she had found a child lying alone in the sand, and that she didn’t feel comfortable flying with you, so she told me to ferry her across the river. You were quiet, and she had you swaddled in a white blanket, right up against her. It was the only time I’ve ever seen a demon so high-ranking be so… caring. I must say, I was a bit shocked at the time.”
Naphal’s eyes widened, “How do you… remember that?”
“I remember a lot of things.”
“I can barely remember what I had for dinner last night.”
“Some people are cursed to remember everything, others are blessed with remembering nothing.”
“I wish I could remember nothing.”
Charon kept the boat moving forward into the outskirts, the cold air around them becoming more bitter as they approached the shoreline. The sky above their heads was an awful shade of violet, deep and unsettling to the eyes. Naphal’s senses became inundated with the cacophonous choir of the damned, their screeches becoming louder and louder, almost to a deafening degree. The ferryman, however, looked unfazed, continuing to hum her little tune.
“How can you tolerate this?” The assassin asked painfully.
Her question was ignored by the ferryman, who kept humming along while rowing in a continuous motion, straining herself to get to the river bank. Eventually, she managed to park the boat in a sandy spot, where the hands of the river’s lost souls wouldn’t reach up and try to pull them under. Charon plugged her ears before she spoke, “This is your stop, dear.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s nothing.” The ferryman gave Naphal a smile as the assassin awkwardly climbed out of the boat, nearly falling on her face on the way out. “Good luck, sweetheart. We’re all counting on you.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“I’ll come back for you when you’re finished. Just wait right here, and watch out for that quicksand over there.”
“I will.”
Charon smiled at the girl one last time before picking her oar back up and slowly but surely floating away, humming her song all the way back down the river. Naphal watched her go, staring into the distance until the ferryman and her ferry were both out of sight. The buzzards in her stomach began to grow, she felt sick as she stood there like a statue, her feet sinking in the slosh.
She whipped her head around to look at the marshland that awaited her, its secrets hidden by the cover of darkness. She looked up a bit to see the very top of his palace in the far distance, staring down at her like the eyes of god. The assassin exhaled with the full extent of her strength, then began her trek across the marsh. She was nowhere near ready for what awaited her, but it’s not like that mattered now. The time had come to face her nightmares head-on, and this time-
She had to win.