Chapter 80: Inner Voice, Part 7

Sam woke up, returning to the real world, with Violet's lips on his. A kiss, that's what had awakened him. When Violet broke it off, pulling back with relief and a hint of desire, a hint that she hadn't had enough yet, Sam fell back onto the bed.

Well, at least they brought me to a more comfortable place than the middle of the hallway, he thought.

"Great," he muttered. "Now I'm Cinderella."

"You're what?" repeated Christina, who of course wasn't far away, following him and her sister like a shadow.

More importantly, he thought, they don't know what Cinderella is. Well, that made it clear, it was certain. They had imported the Abrahamic religions, although he wasn't sure which one yet. Maybe if he started talking about Jesus, even just to make a bad joke, they would look at him like he was crazy. But nothing about Cinderella. Were there other fairy tales? Apparently not, what an inconvenience.

"Never mind," Sam responded very eloquently.

"I have no idea what you're talking about either." Violet said. "But you're right about one thing: what matters is that you gave me the scare of my life. What exactly happened?"

If only he knew exactly what, so he could stop it, or at least try to.

"The thing is, Satan took me to hell, or at least created a similar illusion," he explained. "It was an attack, a way to get revenge, and it's not the first time it's happened to me."

Yes, he was being sincere with them for a change. What was wrong with that? The worst that could happen was that they'd grow fonder of him through the simple and reliable trick of inspiring pity.

"Can he do that?" Christina asked.

"I'm his son, even if all we share is a bit of blood. It's natural that he has power over me, even while in the cage. I don't think you have anything to worry about."

"That's not what I meant," she said, shrugging her shoulders.

"Something can be done," said Violet. "The last thing we need is for you to pass out like this in the middle of the mission, defenseless. There go our chances of victory."

"Sam, what is Satan like?"

He was used to sudden topic changes, but this one seemed especially abrupt. Christina nodded her head energetically.

"Yes, you've never told us. Well, we've never asked, but now he's our enemy. There's nothing wrong with knowing more about the enemy."

Sam was silent for a moment before responding:

"Satan looks like you or me, or any member of our family. Rich and more or less normal. He doesn't have different colored skin or a trident or a tail, none of that. The only unusual thing, the only demonic thing are his yellow eyes, like mine."

He paused and continued:

"In short, you can tell just by looking at him that he's the most evil son of a bitch on this planet, but I want you to remember that he's also a desperate son of a bitch. He's trapped in a bottomless pit and begging for someone to throw him a rope. That's all he is. Forget the stories, the warnings, and old legends."

"If he were invincible, we'd be living in a world ruled by him and his subjects, singing his praises."

"I understand what you mean," said Christina. "It's easier said than done. Well, like everything in life. I never understood that expression. The point is, I'll try to think of Satan as just another enemy, nothing more, not something larger than life, above us."

"Yes, that's what I was trying to get at."

"Besides," added Christina, "we have heaven's support. Everything will be fine. There's no reason for anything to go wrong."

Except that you just tempted fate, thought Sam, and she's a mean bitch.

Not to mention that heaven was only a temporary ally. When they got rid of Satan and the other sisters of the damn apocalypse, they would have to deal with Michael and the hosts of heaven. But he perfectly understood why Christina didn't want to think about that. Well, because of her beliefs, but also because nobody likes to think about how screwed they really are.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Sam believed he could defeat Michael, archangel or not, simply because he needed his help to finish Satan. Logically, he must be more powerful, or at least more or less at the same level. But how many more angels would there be? And God, the great unknown variable, what would happen if God finally intervened?

That wasn't an enemy he could fight against, omnipotent, omnipresent. If all those tall tales were true in this world, there was no way he could do anything if God didn't want it. Of course, following that logic, all the evil he had done in this world, the corruption of his sisters, the massacre of his new family, that was something God had tacitly allowed. So, either he was a son of a bitch, or it wasn't that simple. There were rules, restrictions, or whatever.

Yes, things didn't look as dark as they might seem at first glance.

Sam nodded firmly. "Yes, we can do it."

The hours passed, and the afternoon arrived, at least calmer than the awakening. He could never completely relax, fearing deep down that it would happen again, that he would be dragged back to hell and at Satan's mercy, free to take revenge on him again. He didn't know what was happening, so naturally he had no idea how to stop it. But it didn't happen again.

The pressure in his chest didn't leave him, the tension, but it seemed it wouldn't happen again, at least for now. As the hours passed, he became more or less convinced of that.

Like his sisters, he had spent most of his time outside the mansion. The grounds were very large, full of forest and places to explore, which would ensure the delight of any child with the typical adventurous spirit of discovery. Although for his sisters the place had lost all possible mystery years ago, at least it served as a distraction.

Without a doubt it was better than staying in the mansion, wandering the hallways, looking around as if asking themselves where who had died. If it was possible they were stepping on one of the few places not bathed in the blood and entrails of some relative, whether they had liked them or not.

The mansion wasn't what it used to be, at least until the reconstruction efforts were finished. It would only be a symbol of the ruins, of their life, of what had been lost. He supposed the pain and fear would remain for years, but Sam hoped they would overcome it as soon as possible. Although he would settle for them doing it eventually.

He liked the mansion. It was something he had earned through hard work after all, and not by dreaming the life of inferior beings. He was the heir to the Grae fortune. He was the damn rich man he had always wanted to be and could probably buy an even better house than the old mansion, but it wouldn't be the same. Paying wasn't the same as earning a place.

While his sisters investigated the woods again and the past that had long since disappeared, Sam stayed behind with a history and geography book. It wasn't exactly his favorite pastime, but he thought it was time to learn something about the world in which he had been reincarnated and would spend his entire life, whether long or short.

First of all, he learned that the world was divided into three kingdoms. He was in the kingdom of Albion, which was, of course, the most privileged kingdom with high military and economic power. Then there was the kingdom of Crenar, which really had nothing that caught his attention. The largest number of ports in the world, as well as storms, tsunamis, and tornadoes.

Finally, there was the kingdom of Concordia, where the only noteworthy thing was that they were going through the local equivalent of the French Revolution. He wasn't interested because it wasn't his pretty noble head they were beheading and displaying as a trophy, but he hoped that revolution wouldn't go too far.

It would be a shame to be born in a more or less medieval world, with the privileges that came with being nobility, only to have that caste system abolished. At least in appearance, of course, because the rich were still nobles and above the dirty plebeians who had to crawl in the earth all their lives just to earn enough money to subsist. But well, still, the title and prestige were part of the fun of all this.

He wouldn't like that revolution to succeed. Maybe when Satan and heaven stopped being a problem, he would head to Concordia to personally crush the revolutionaries to extinguish that flame.

His sisters weren't far from his position, which is why he perfectly heard a scream and the sound of someone falling. It was obvious that it was probably the same person who had fallen and that was undoubtedly Violet's voice.

Sam got up from his chair, closing the book and pressing it against his chest. He remembered Violet's lips on his, awakening him, dragging him out of that nightmare that had been too real.

Christina was still by far his favorite, but losing either of them made his pulse quicken, so he started running, worried as hell. But when he reached his destination, all he saw was Violet laughing, lying on the ground.

She had fallen, indeed, but it was a tiny fall. A slope that could be crossed in one step. That was all. But when she lost her balance, Violet had also lost her composure and screamed in fear. She must have been as tense as he was, so it was natural, but still, he clicked his tongue.

"Well, well, you gave me quite a scare," said Sam.

"Yes, I see, but I'm glad you worry about me," she replied. "It made me happy to see your face when you arrived. I guess I'm a bit mean for that."

"You know I would run to rescue either of you. The least I can do after that night is return the favor. After all, you risked your necks unnecessarily."

"Completely necessarily," said Christina. "You're family, you're all we have. Besides, if we had let those soldiers go to rescue you, who knows where you'd be right now. They didn't kill a single puppet, I think."

"Well, yes," Sam shrugged. "But you know what I mean, most people would have backed down, even for family. So the least I can do is show that courtesy, don't you think? Anyway, I'm going back to reading my book. Try not to scare me to death again, okay? Neither of you."

"Of course not, Sammy," said Christina. "I'll make sure she doesn't act like an idiot again."

"Hey!" protested Violet.

Inner Voice, Part 7: END