Mickie and his demon companion had slipped the Mechanist’s grasp, yet they were not truly out of its lair. Fear kept him pressed deep into the metal tray’s corner, awaiting the moment when the rhythmic tapping of their beetle’s feet would be joined by a cold, robotic voice. His severed finger was healing at a prodigious rate, no longer bleeding, and recovered enough that Mickie could make small movements. The pain of exerting the damaged digit was intense however, amplified by his fear and lack of stimulus. Even the diminutive demon sitting on his splayed leg was subdued, unwilling to speak even if they both knew detection was not possible. Time blurred as they travelled, though Mickie was convinced that this trip had been far longer than the first. He thought back to the monstrous metal form of the Mechanist, and its desire to uncover his secrets. Why was the machine so desperate to understand him? What alien force drove the metal mind to be so violent towards living beings? Perhaps the creature just hated anything organically intelligent. His mind wandered further, to the impetus for his escape from the interrogation bed. The Mechanist had mentioned subduing the renegade guards within administration, he hoped the distraction of his escape had given the gentle workers the upper hand.
Eventually light came into focus once more, cutting his meandering thoughts short. Mickie was happy to finally be leaving the dark tunnel, though he dreaded what might await them beyond its confines. As they came closer to the exit his skin prickled, the air was rapidly cooling, taking on a coarse dryness that scratched his throat. Light revealed an expanse of white and blue, cut by spires and jagged peaks of ice. Their beetle was clambering through a frozen cave towards the frigid landscape, metal feet managing the slippery footing with ease.
‘The White Wastes.’
Miz-Mag’s voice was an intermingling of fear and excitement, the demon’s eyes glued to the pale horizon.
‘You been here before?’
Having entered a region that was very clearly not the domain of the Mechanist had provided Mickie with enough courage that he risked a whispered question.
‘No kid, didn’t even know it was possible to get here from the palace. Thought the building was sealed of entirely. The sovereign’s got the prison in the depths now, so I’m not sure what they would even need this dead world for.’
That was concerning, if the wastes were once a prison, then it might not be safe to enter blindly. Mickie glanced back towards the dark tunnel they had exited. At this stage he would take the chihuahua Cerberus over another moment in the Mechanist’s lair. The pair exited the cave and into the light glow of the frozen waste, the world opening up before them as they left the palace behind. Mickie turned back to take in the structure, he had covered a lot of ground in those halls and was curious about how large it was. All Mickie could see from his current vantage was a tall wall of rocky stone, large to be sure but certainly not the scope he was expecting. As the beetle covered more ground dark metal came into view beyond the stone and Mickie realised, he was only seeing a portion of the monstrous building. Beyond a rocky base, huge pillars of steel reached towards the frozen ceiling, stacked atop one another with the coordination of an infant’s block set. Odd overhangs jutted from wonky spires, creating haphazard geometric shapes that looked as if they might fall away at any moment. The metal narrowed gradually as it reached the ceiling, only a central tower vanishing into the stone beyond. The exit. One that appeared so very distant. Mickie felt exhausted at the sight, they had come so far yet were not even close to escaping the very bottom of hell. He caught the demon looking up at the palace with a strange expression.
‘It feels like we’ve lost ground, the window in admin had a decent view from memory.’
Mickie tried to spot windows on the metal monstrosity but failed to make anything out. The window he had looked through had been small, but surely there were others scattered throughout the huge building. Perhaps the views were only one way. Miz-Mag only grunted at his comment, continuing to gaze up at giant palace. Eventually Mickie turned away from the eerie construct and back towards the icy surrounds. The air hung over him like a frozen blanket, still and stifling. There was no wind in this place as far as he could tell, only the movement of the beetle giving the illusion of a breeze. It looked as though their ride was headed for a collection of mountains in the distance, taking a direct path through the ice. With his demon guide suffering from a rare bout of silence Mickie took it upon himself to ponder their next move. While it had been good to escape the Mechanist, he was unsure if remaining out in the cold was wise. The goal was to escape above, and the only way-out Mickie could see was at the top of the palace.
‘Is there anything out here we can use?’
Miz-Mag finally turned with a swish of dark hair to peer at him with golden eyes.
‘It’s called the white wastes for a reason kid, nothing but ice out here.’
Mickie looked to the demon, then down at the robot scampering across the empty terrain.
‘Then why is the mechanist sending robots out here?’
‘Not sure, didn’t even know that it did. At a guess maybe that ore we saw in the processing facility. Could be a mine out on the ice.’
‘You never saw that metal before?’
The demon put its hands behind its head.
‘Nope, I thought I told you I never went into the Mechanist’s lair.’
Mickie shivered and turned towards the beetle’s destination once more. He was cold but not to the extent one might expect with such frigid surrounds. His demon companion appeared completely unbothered by the environment, splayed out on his leg like a limp noodle. With little else to do Mickie took to examining his healing finger. There was a red line joining the flesh together and the skin on the appendage was a healthy tone once more. He moved it and the finger curled painfully in on itself, leaving Mickie speechless at the return of mobility. The jagged pieces of steel that had held his pinkie in place were still embedded into the flesh on either side of the wound. They no longer appeared necessary, if anything the improvised stitching was hindering his burgeoning mobility. Deciding to trust in his unreasonable healing capacity Mickie pinched a portion of metal and drew it painfully free. The piece had been forced deep, leaving wells of pooling blood on either side of the puckered skin. Mickie paid the smaller wounds little heed as he drew the remaining jagged pieces free. As the last slid out he moved the finger once more and found the motion coming easier than before.
‘Look at that aye kid, good as new, just like I said.’
The little demon was giving him a smug look. Mickie was too astounded by his reattached finger to even provide a proper retort.
‘Yeah, its moving again. That’s insane.’
With his finger mostly healed Mickie felt whole again, shifting his attention back to the icy surrounds and viewing them with an improving outlook. He wasn’t overly cold despite the ice, and he was free of the Mechanist. All they needed now was an easy way to the top of the palace and he would be free of this place. Surely the next circle would be better than this one. Peering back at the monstrous structure of black metal Mickie found it to be growing disturbingly distant.
‘Hey uh, you don’t suppose this beetle is going to head back?’
Miz-Mag appeared unconcerned at his sudden question, waving a lazy arm.
‘Course it will, Mechanist loves its little bots far too much to send them on suicide runs. Worst case scenario is we just hoof it back on foot anyway.’
Mickie supposed the demon was right. Plus, it might not hurt to see if they could get a hint on what the beetle’s collected and where they got it from. If nothing else a moment of peace in the quiet cold would be worth the time spent on the journey. Setling in for an extended period of travel, Mickie looked into the horizon and attempted to guess their destination.
‘Well, I suppose we can check out whatever is out here then catch a ride back. There’s sure to be…’
His voice trailed off as the beetle rounded a rocky spire and brought a strange sight into focus. From the window within Admin Mickie had noted strange tree-like shapes out in the ice. Suddenly getting a view up close, he realised it had not been frozen foliage but dark pillars of steel. A forest of metal that sprouted from the ice in a jagged, inorganic impersonations of normal trees. More disturbing than the twisted dark canopy however was what lay below it. Bound to the structures by heavy chains was an uncountable number of demons. They were all pressed to the metal, held upright by blankets of metal links. Mickie was transfixed by the morbid scope of the frozen prison. Demons of endless varieties were held captive on the ice, silent in the frozen air. He noted insectile beasts, horned humanoids with skin of deep green, triple headed and multi limbed figures in dark robes. There was even a large serpent, threaded through tight chains to wrap about a pillar. It appeared that the cold out here was worse than Mickie had first thought, as none of the imprisoned demons so much as twitch when their beetle approached.
‘Blimey, what a lot of poor sods, aye kid.’
For all its tone was frivolous, Miz-Mag was gazing upon the chained demons with an intense scrutiny.
‘They’re all demons.’
Mickie observed.
‘Why are they locked up?’
His partner shrugged.
‘Couldn’t say, probably pissed off the Sovereign at a guess.’
The thought Mickie the wrong way, and he contemplated on the reason why briefly as their beetle skirted about the metal forest.
‘It almost seems… too human, I guess. I would have thought demons stuck together.’
Miz-Mag gave him an incredulous look.
‘Dear boy, when have demons ever been known for anything but random acts of violence and mischief? Seriously kid, I would have probably be imp shit by now if the stubby runts could see me.’
‘I suppose, but I thought Hell was all about punishing the wicked, you know, sinners and stuff’.
‘Demons are all about sin kiddo, probably worse than most of the sorry mortals that get stuck down here.’
The explanation had a logical flow to it that made sense, however Mickie still sat uneasy. He would have expected the afterlife to be governed with more structure. A location built for the purpose of judgement and punishment. What he had seen to this point was something else entirely, a world that had the same chaotic norms of his life above.
‘What’s the point then?’
‘Hmm.’
Miz-Mag gave him an inquisitive eye.
‘The point to this, to all of this.’
Mickie waved about at the ice.
‘Why do people come here when they die if not for punishment? Just to get tormented again? It seems unreasonable.’
‘Life ain’t fair kid. You think I wanted to be a tiny tot that spends its life hiding?’
Miz-Mag seemed almost annoyed at his tirade. The demon’s shifting mood was lost on Mickie, stuck as he was in existential contemplation.
‘And then we die again.’
The murmured statement triggered a thought and Mickie’s head snapped up to look at Miz-Mag.
‘What happens when we die in hell, what’s next? Is it that darkness? below the prison?’
‘By the blood kid! Give it a rest would you!’
The heated reply finally drew Mickie from his mental spiral. The demon on his shoulder looked both angry and uncomfortable. Apparently, the subject of death was something it preferred not to dwell on. Their conversation had carried them just about past the forest of frozen demons and their beetle was almost ready to leave it behind when a sound drew their attention. A clanking rattle, deep and loud that rumbled out from the metal trees. The noise was followed by a booming voice, deeper than the ocean and slow as magma.
‘Human.’
Mickie looked to Miz-Mag in surprise briefly before they both turned to peer into the spines of dark steel.
‘Someone’s not frozen in there.’
‘I’d say kid, judging by the voice calling out and all that.’
‘How though?’
Miz-Mag took a moment to think.
‘Hmm, cold is pretty insidious out here. Would even get us if not for yours truly. Maybe this is a prisoner that can resist the ice?’
Mickie tried to look through the metal but caught no sight of movement. Their beetle was veering away, and the metal forest would soon be left behind.
‘Maybe we should check it out? A locked-up demon might be willing to help us out.’
His red companion appeared sceptical.
‘I’m not so sure, us demons are more about half answers and misleading truths.’
The frozen prison was being left behind, leaving Mickie with little time remaining to deliberate. He glanced in the direction the beetle travelled. There was little in the distance but a cluster of icy mountains, providing a good indication of their eventual destination. It looked to be an achievable distance on foot, and Mickie was not particularly cold despite their surrounds. He was confident in either making it to the mountains or back to the castle of foot. Without further deliberation Mickie scooped up his demon companion and leapt from their metallic steed. The ground was icy soil and it slapped hard against his feet on landing. The rough touchdown and the jump from the beetle was enough to shift his balance and with a slippery shuffle Mickie was on his ass. Miz-Mag snickered at him from its perch on an outstretched hand.
‘Serves you right, making sudden moves without my permission.’
Mickie tilted his hand and dropped the demon to the ice. To his annoyance the creature landed gracefully and gave a mocking bow upon noticing his scowl.
‘Well, I was thinking this demon could give me some answers. Seeing as you don’t seem to know much of anything.’
As he stood carefully on the frozen ground Miz-Mag clambered to its usual shoulder perch while protesting.
‘I know plenty kid. Got us this far didn’t I.’
Giving the demon a dirty look Mickie almost spat out another retort, something about oversized demonic leeches. Before the words exited his mouth however as the demon’s words brought forth a wash of recent memories. A ring of light. Robotic arms delivering pain. A small red figure waking him and helping him escape the terror. If nothing else his companion at least wanted him alive, they were tied to the same wagon now and the only way forward was up. Mickie snapped his mouth shut and simply shrugged before moving towards the shackled demons. Miz-Mag let out a short cackle of glee at the silent response before moving to his shoulder.
Walking along the icy ground was slow going, each step requiring careful placement to prevent a fall. Upon reaching the edge of the metal forest Mickie foot crunched into blueish white gravel. He bend down and picked up a small stone from endless mounds scattered amongst the chained demons. It appeared to be a solid chunk of ice, rough and uneven like the shattered remains to a larger whole. The ice might be uncomfortable to step on but it was at least less slippery than the open ground. Mickie tossed the blue chunk back onto the ground and moved into the frozen prison. He had little to go on but a general direction for the source of the voice, walking in silence amongst an endless variety of hell’s denizens. The final expressions of the creatures were as varied as the beasts themselves. One triple headed man-thing wept with one face, roared with another and laughed with maniacal glee on the last. Mickie found the disparate emotions on the same being more disturbing than the monstrous human itself. A peculiar dread began to crawl up his spine the deeper they walked into the metal forest. Like frosty oil dribbling along his back it came slowly, but with rising intensity. Heading into this place might have been a terrible idea, chance at information be damned. Mickie reflected that his decision to leave the beetle behind might not have been entirely rational. The demon upon his shoulder gripped his ear with desperate intensity, clearly of the same mind. They had not been walking all that far. If they turned around now it would be a short walk out, then they could simply follow the path of the beetle.
A strange demon caught his eye, disrupting the cascade of thoughts. Mickie squinted at the huge frame, chained naked to a large spire of metal. This creature was easily over four meters tall and nearly two meters wide at the shoulder. Its hairless head was slumped in senseless defeat, a single large eye staring sightlessly over the prisoners. Mickie recognised the shape of this beast, and it was not one he associated with the frozen depths of hell.
‘Is that a cyclops?’
His voice was barely a whisper, yet it made Miz-Mag stiffen in fright. The little creature glanced about suspiciously, as if waiting for the demons to start awakening at the noise. When the surrounds remained quiet the demon threw him a withering look before spitting a reply.
‘You nuts kid? How would I know?’
Mickie was irked by the dismissive response. All the prisoners were frozen solid and chained besides, why did his companion get so wound up over the question. Peering at the huge figure Mickie was certain he had been right. It had to be a cyclops, pulled straight from a mythos outside that of hell. If so, then he had no clue how this creature had wound up chained in an icy waste within the deepest reaches of this place. With no answer forthcoming Mickie turned from the prisoner only to realise he had lost the direction forward. Before getting a chance to question the demon on his shoulder a deep rumble shook the earth, making the icy stones clink and shift. The shake was accompanied by a vibrating groan, almost physical in its intensity. Glancing towards the source Mickie realised he was not far from his goal. The noise had come from somewhere close by.
Setting off through the prisoners once more, it was not long until the spires began to thin out ahead, giving Mickie glimpses of a thick structure made from dark metal. He stepped out onto open ground of icy gravel and was met with a ring of thick metal pillars. These were uniformly square in shape and shorter than the surrounding jagged spires. Each housed the end of a chain, leading into a dense mass of icy metal at the centre of the ring. A nest of chains, buried partway into the frozen gravel and topped by a huge head that was darker than the space between stars. Horns crested the hairless crown of the demon, forming a mohawk of curled spines. As he warily approached Mickie realised this creature was huge, larger even than the surrounding spires of metal that held other demons. A step noisily disturbed some gravel and Mickie froze when the huge being stirred, eyes opening to peer at him with orbs of solid starlight. He found himself unable to move, locked in place by the alien gaze of the massive figure. Time crawled by, neither Mickie or Miz-Mag so much as twitching, before the huge demon took a slow breath. The inrush of air was shaky and caused the chains binding it to shift and move as its chest rose.
‘Human. I thought I heard your voice.’
The voice was as rougher than the icy gravel on which they stood. Mickie stared, transfixed for a moment before stumbling out a reply.
‘Yeah I uh, I’m a human.’
‘How curious.’
The massive prisoner paid little regard for Mickie’s fumbled response. Falling silent once more with a thoughtful squint. Building up his courage, Mickie attempted to push the conversation along.
‘I came when I heard you. I was wondering if you could answer a few questions for me?’
The demon let out a rumbling laugh at that, followed by another slow breath.
‘Centuries of silence. And the first living creature I meet is human that has forgot its place. Tell me dead one, how is it you walk the ice so freely?’
Beginning to grow a bit miffed at the disregard of this chained demon, Mickie spat out an answer before pressing with another question.
‘It’s the gravel bud, less slippery than the normal ice. Now, tell me how I can get to the next layer up. Is the castle really the only way?’
A growl preceded the rumbling response.
‘Watch your tone human. You will answer my question truthfully.’
Miz-Mag scoffed atop his shoulder.
‘Or what? This big fella forgets he’s on ice.’
Mickie had to agree with his companion. While terrifying at first glance this huge demon reminded him of the big bosses he had encountered while alive. Self-assured and confident, commanding even when at a disadvantage. In his experience they tended to allow their egos to overinflate berfore overreaching. It was very rare he met someone who had the talent to back up the bravado, so rare that he hadn’t realised they could until it was too late. This chained monster had clearly fallen short, and even in chains believed itself to be on the top of the pile. Unwilling to give up his chance at answers Mickie decided to approach the conversation like he would have when alive. He called his gun in a show of strength, rhythmically tapping his thigh with the barrel. The glowing eyes fixated on the weapon’s sudden appearance.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
‘Righto, I can tell we misunderstand each other. I’m not some human slave you get to tell what’s what to. I’ve been through the Mechanist’s nest itself to get onto the ice.’
That drew the big creature’s attention away from the gun and onto him once more. There was a rumble as it prepared to speak but Mickie cut it off..
‘Now I intend to claw my way back out of Hell. I don’t care what I need to go through to do it either. So, either we have a talk or I leave you to your friends.’
He glanced about at the frozen prisoners.
‘I’m sure they good for a conversation.’
The large demon did not respond immediately, starring him down with its glowing orbs. Mickie met the gaze unfalteringly, Miz-Mag cackling encouragement on his shoulder. It was some time before the giant spoke, not even blinking in their impromptu staring contest.
‘You have heart human. Time was I would have taken such a heart straight from your chest for my own table.’
There was a pause and the demon followed almost begrudgingly.
‘Times change though. Tell me your name and we shall talk.’
Mickie had to stifle a grin at the request. If the demon was bothering to know him then it was willing to at least give him the recognition required for a conversation.
‘Mickie, and you are?’
‘I am the alter on which mortals so readily pray. I am the embodiment of your drive for more than your neighbour. I am Mammon of the seven.’
The words were intoned with a practiced resonance to convey a weighty grandeur. Mickie guessed if he knew more of Hell he might know who this Mammon was. Clearly the demon on his shoulder did from the impressed noise Miz-Mag made at the introduction.
‘This chap was one of the princes kid, he’s a pretty big deal.’
Needing to stay on the demon’s good side Mickie rolled with his companion’s comment and bowed to the chained giant, his gun pressed against his back.
‘It is an honour to meet a prince of Hell.’
The old demon gave a thoughtful rumble before falling silent. Seeing an opportunity Mickie spoke up.
‘Alright Mammon, you agreed to a conversation.’
Mammon gave a low growl.
‘Fine. Ask your questions.’
‘I want to know if the palace is the only way to the next circle.’
Mammon breathed heavily and turned towards the monstrous metal structure.
‘It is. At least it is the only remaining path that I know of.’
‘There were others?’
‘Once, but no longer.’
It took effort to swallow his frustration at the partial answer. It looked like all demons excelled at telling half the story.
‘Okay. What’s the best way up through the palace then?’
The demon paused to think.
‘There are two paths. The first would be to walk the tunnels of the Mechanist. These you have seen before, if you truly did come through that abomination’s lair. The next would be to move up through the central levels. They are a maze but will lead to the high levels if navigated.’
Mickie was taken aback by the frank answer. Mammon was not done, however.
‘But it will not be possible for you mortal.’
‘Not possible?’
‘Not for you. I do not know how you snuck by the Mechanist, but I would not expect the feat to be repeatable.’
Silence followed the large demon’s answer. Mickie considering his options while Mammon considered him. Perhaps it was possible to sneak through the Mechanist’s lair once more, though the plan was risky. Mammon did not know he was all but invisible to the monstrous machine and most likely thought his escape was through sheer luck. On the other hand, the Mechanist was probably scouring the network of dark tunnels in an attempt to find him. It might simply be easier to navigate the castle itself and minimise any chance of contact with machines. Mammon read the indecision on his face.
‘You must have seen the Mechanist to be so wary human. No doubt you realise how difficult it will be to navigate the dark tunnels in which it rules. The halls of the palace proper will be no kinder either. Infested as they are with the servants of the false Sovereign.’
The demon’s voice was as soft as the gravelly tone would allow. Mickie met its starlight eyes as Miz-Mag began to shift in agitation on his shoulder.
‘I will manage.’
He tried to impart the statement with conviction, though the words rang hollow to his own ears. Mickie had suffered to reach even this far up the palace, yet there was still so much more of the towering black structure left to climb. How much more of the constant threat from demons and monsters could he take. If the denizens of this place did not get to him then his rapidly fraying sanity would. Mickie had always been stubborn, but this, this was hell. How much further could he climb before his strength gave.
‘No human. You might have made it this far, but no mortal can ever escape hell, and you are stuck as far down as it is possible to go.’
‘Don’t listen to him. We had a deal kid! A deal!’
Miz-Mag could no longer hold itself back, seemingly sensing Mickie’s newfound doubt. Glancing at the creature Mickie found his earlier appreciation for it being replace with anger.
‘A deal?!’
He hissed in response.
‘What deal? Brand myself or be eaten by some fucking insect monster? You act like I had some choice in this or something.’
Mammon seemed taken aback at the sudden outburst, tilting its head in confusion.
‘Deal? What deal do you speak of?’
Mickie froze at the misstep. In a bout of anger, he had spoken aloud to Miz-Mag, saying things that may not be wise to mention in front of the old prisoner. As if on cue Mammon came to a realisation.
‘So that is how you evaded the Mechanist. Tell me then, who do you serve?’
‘Serve? I… no one. It’s not important.’
His fumbling attempt to shift the conversation back on topic was ineffective on Mammon. The chained demon growled with the sound of shifting mountains.
‘Who. Was it the Sovereign? Or perhaps Rainzell? Yes, that fiend would be cunning enough. Perhaps trying to coax information from me. Show me the mark mortal.’
Mickie’s right hand itched and he desperately avoided glancing at it.
‘Like I said it doesn’t matter. Now if…’
‘You cannot deny me. SHOW ME.’
This time the demand carried something else with it. A weight beyond words. As if Mammon were personally guiding his arm Mickie raised his hand to reveal the brand marring the skin.
‘No. It cannot be so.’
Self-awareness returned as Mammon sagged into its chain with a wearied breath. A bone handle was immediately in Mickies hand and pointed towards the demon, summoned from where he had dropped it on the frozen ground.
‘The Hell did you just do to me!?’
‘I took what was mine. Fool mortal, attempting to attempting to hide truths from me.’
Mammon let out a raspy chuckle. Whatever arcane trick it had used to force Mickie into compliance seemed to have taken all the demon’s energy. Its voice grew sluggish, though Mickie could still make out a change in tone as it continued.
‘It is not possible. The mark of the Soul Lord. How.’
It dawned on Mickie that he was hearing fear in the old demon’s words. Fear of the mark on his hand. Mickie spared a glance at Miz-Mag, who seemed just as confused as he was.
‘The Soul Lord? Who is that?’
Mammon laughed, deep and slow.
‘Impossible. And yet, I am unsurprised. Perhaps our foolish ruler will learn the lesson we did.’
As the words of the giant grew quiet a creaking crackle filled the air. Mickie’s eyes widen slightly at the sight of frost visible creeping up the chains encompassing the demon. Like a rising tide, icy tendrils were creeping up the dark metal, growing slower until they stopped halfway up its form. Looking at the frozen surrounds warily, Mickie did not feel any different himself. He still stood barefoot on the ice, cold but not uncomfortably so. Perhaps it was the chains that made the frost do that. Whatever the cause Mammon appeared to be losing an ongoing battle to remain conscious, head lolling to one side as the onyx black of its skin took on a grey hue.
‘A deal, I thought. Perhaps escape. But no. Better here, if it is to return.’
The field of frozen figures fell silent as Mammon’s starlight eyes closed and the giant grew as still as the surrounding prisoners. Mickie looked upon its slumbering form with a knot forming in his gut.
‘Great work fumbling the bag on that one kid.’
Miz-Mag’s squeaky voice cut through the silence and startled him. Mickie made to retort before glancing to the silent Mammon. The giant appeared to be asleep, but after his last slip up it was probably better to be cautious. The demon on his shoulder cackled as Mickie silently stomped into the frozen figures, his frustration building.
‘You think you could even get out of prison without me kid. You’re lucky I was around, or you would be bug-shit by now.’
Mickie’s frustration boiled over into anger at that comment. With a flick of his hand he unsummoned his gun and fast as a viper reached up to grasp the little demon from his shoulder. The action took Miz-Mag by surprise, the red creature screeching in indignation as Mickie held it up. They were yet to leave the sea of chained prisoners, but Mickie’s anger once more outweighed his caution.
‘Without you? I have been climbing through a blender to drag us out of this shit pile. Without me you would still be scampering about the bottom of that palace. I’m the one who got us past the Cerberus, I’m the one who got through Admin, I’m the one who escaped the Mechanist. All you have done is get dragged along for the ride.’
Miz-Mag tilted its head and bit down on hard Mickie’s hand. He yelped and dropped the small creature, which scrambled out of his reach before glaring back at him.
‘You know you would be dead without me. And you are climbing because that’s the deal. You take me up and out of here.’
‘Why though?’
Mickie shouted in exasperation.
‘What’s the point? You heard Mammon, we won’t make it to the next circle, let alone out of hell. Do you want to die is that it?’
Miz-Mag gritted its teeth.
‘I want, I have, to be more.’
‘Be more? What does that even mean? You’ll be nothing once we’re dead.’
The diminutive demon seemed to fumble for something to say for a moment, looking cornered.
‘Doesn’t matter what it means. We have a deal. You climb.’
With that Miz-Mag disappeared without a trace. Mickie stared at the vacant spot where it had stood before casting about for the creature. A glance about confirmed the demon’s sudden retreat and Mickie let out an exasperated chuff as he set off.
‘I bet the little shit doesn’t even know why, barely knows anything.’
There was little to occupy Mickie as he trekked the remaining distance to the border of the chained demons. His thoughts were textured with encroaching despair, dwelling on the futility of his task and the horror of what he had seen so far. The positivity he had felt before was gone, drowned by the weight of what he had experience and what was to come. About him the frozen demonic visages seemed to be taking on life, starring at him, laughing at him, screaming at him. What had he done to deserve this. Nobody deserved this. He would have preferred the void of nothing if this was all that awaited him in Hell. Mickie did not realise he was running until he broke free from the forest of frozen steel and flesh. He was so distracted that he forgot about the change in footing as the icy chunks abruptly shifted back to frozen stone. The slick surface of the white wastes caused Mickie to slip near instantly and the air rushed from his lungs as he bounced and slid across the hard ground.
Coming to a stop a small way from the sea of dark metal Mickie curled in on himself, gasping and groaning in equal measure. As the pain of the slip receded his mind achieved a pleasant vacancy from the panic that drove him from the frozen demons. Idly Mickie wondered if he would freeze like those he had fled if he simply remained on the floor. Maybe some other sorry sack would die in a hundred years and find themselves standing before his frozen form, wondering when they would wind up the same. He tumbled into musing upon the accursed deal that was so intrinsically tied to his time in hell. What would happen if he refused to climb, if he made the decision to simply sit still here on the ice and never move again. Miz-Mag might have known, though at this point Mickie would not be surprised to discover the demon didn’t have a clue. For a denizen of hell, the creature seemed to know surprisingly little of use. Perhaps if he had made a deal with a demon like Mammon it would be easy to escape the stinking castle. If a little critter like Miz-Mag could provide a gun, then the giant demon would probably grant enough power to blast right through the monstrous metal structure. Or maybe not, Mammon had seemed wary of the Mechanist at the very least. Though not fearful. Which made Mickie nervous about the identity of this Soul Lord that was tied to the brand on his hand.
An abrupt thud and shake broke Mickie from his meandering thoughts and nihilistic musings. The icy ground trembled as if from a massive impact and the air stirred for the first time since he had stepped foot on the wastes. Mickie sat up and glanced about, looking for the source of the disturbance. The world was silent and still for a long stretch before the thud came once more, shaking the frozen surrounds. A crack reverberated in the distance and a massive chunk of ice broke free from a mountain and arced towards the ground. Mickie winced at the crashing clamour of it connecting with stone and exploding into chunks. It appeared that whatever was causing the distant noise and shakes was in the direction of the mountains. Considering the jagged spires of ice, Mickie realised that these mountains were the same ones the robotic beetle had been heading towards. Perhaps this was all part of the mining process for the dark ore it had been collecting. Contemplating the distant peaks Mickie pondered the prospect of moving from his spot on the ice. Oddly enough, he found boredom was overcoming his bout of listlessness. He rose slowly, chuckling at the prospect of becoming bored within the depths of hell. With little else to do, investigating the distant peaks provided a convenient distraction. Standing slowly, Mickie dusted himself off before beginning to walk towards the mountains. The going was slow on the slick ice and Mickie stepped carefully to avoid slipping as he trekked along rocky crags and skirted dark ravines.
Twice more there were distant booms that shook the earth and caused him to lose his footing. As such it was a slightly sore and bruised body that finally approached the frozen debris surrounding the mountain. Proximity to the scattered chunks of ice provided perspective and Mickie marvelled at the size of the blue-white boulders. The smallest were easily as large as he was while the larger chunks tripled his height. Taking a short break by one of the frozen stones Mickie examined the massive mountains of ice. They stretched into the sky, reaching for the distance craggy ceiling of this massive cavern. He wondered idly how they had formed, considering where he was it was probably tears of the damned or some such. The thought was oddly funny, and Mickie huffed as he moved on once more, through the debris strewn valley amongst frozen peaks.
Unlike his trek across the icy plains this he did not have a directional goal for this portion of the journey. Rather Mickie simply followed the natural path of the valley, occasionally finding signs he was on the right track. There was a huge mound of ice blocking the way that had a gap of shifted stones through which traversal was possible. Occasional rends in the surface ice followed the path of shifted boulders, keeping the traversable surfaces clear. The result for Mickie was a safe passage to follow along during the steeper and more treacherous stretches of the valley. He fell into a rhythm of steady breaths and even footfalls, eventually coming into sight of open air. The valley path came upon an open pit bordered by the mountains, ringed by a path that spiralled into icy depths. Looking over the edge Mickie found a warren of pitted holes in the walls of ice, crawling with the glinting silver dots of robots.
‘It definitely looks like a mine.’
Mickies cleared his throat and swallowed before setting off along the winding path into the pit. The steep decent was treacherously slippery and Mickie was forced to move exceedingly slowly to avoid a dangerous fall. Eventually he came to the first of the holes in the pit wall, a glittering cave of ice with smooth surfaces that disappeared into darkness. The was no sound or movement apparent within the depths and Mickie found himself unwilling to walk into the dark. He moved onward and passed a number of further vacant caves before reaching the first that had signs of life. At the end of a distant cave figures glinted in torchlight, moving about against a wall of ice speckled with dark veins. Even though he knew that the robots would not be able to see him, Mickie was still cautious when peering inside. The machines were too distant to make properly so he darted across the passage entry to continue the path downward. Perhaps he could find a cave further on that provided a better view of the mining process.
Before reaching the next hole in the wall Mickie was forced to press himself flat against the side of the icy decline when a beetle trundled past. The large robot was laden with ore and had no issues finding purchase on the slick floor with its icy claws. At least he would be able to catch a ride out of the pit when exiting. The mountains above were disappearing behind a curtain of ice when Mickie finally found a cave shallow enough to provide a clear view inside. Lights reflected off slick ice before eventually reaching the end of a short tunnel. There were robots working veins of dark metal. Bulky constructs with three spiked legs to provide grip on the slippery floor. They dug at the wall with numerous limbs, drilling, cutting, and hammering at the ice to release the buried resources within. The raw ore was placed into holding containers on their backs, freeing up their arms to continue working. Mickie was forced to duck out of the way when one of the bulky mining bots moved away from the ore vein and towards the tunnel entrance. He was immediately forced to leap aside in a clumsy tumble upon finding a large beetle bearing down upon him. From a painful heap against the wall of the mine he watched as the robotic carrier came to a stop before the cave entrance and hunched low. The mining construct stomped slowly up to it and unloaded its cargo of ore into the already laden tray of dark metal. Upon completing the transfer something strange happened. Rather than immediately turning away from the big transport the miner moved to its front and gently stroked the creature with a clawed arm. Mickie watched in surprise as the robot pet its uncaring brethren before turning back to the tunnel and moving away. The large beetle did hang around, standing before moving up to the exit of the mine. Had that robot just shown affection to another of its kind? A strange prospect, as far as Mickie could tell the machines did not have feelings beyond the twisted mind of the Mechanist itself. Apparently, he had been wrong, or maybe the display was simply to indicate the completion of the ore’s transfer and simply looked like affection.
Contemplation of the miners actions caused Mickie’s mind to drift as he continued into the depths of the pit. He was snapped out of his reverie by the sight of an approaching beetle. Quickly moving to one side Mickie was surprised when he glanced to gauge its approach and found the machine stationary. It was low to the ground, almost resting its dark metal undercarriage on the icy floor. There were no caves in site so the transporter could not be receiving a load of ore. Unsure what the beetle was doing Mickie moved away from the wall and continued towards it. He could always move aside if it started to walk again. It was a few steps later when disaster struck. In his exploration of the mine Mickie had somehow forgotten about the booming quakes that lead him to it.
There was a sudden flash from below and a wave of force caused him to stumble as a cracking boom rang his ears. The ground shook like angry god and Mickie’s failing balance gave out entirely. He took a few wobbly steps on the slope before tumbling and sliding toward the cliff’s edge. He scrambled against the slippery ground to little effect as the drop approach, desperate to gain purchase. Eyes wide in terror at his approaching doom, Mickie summoned his gun into his hand and attempted to use it as an impromptu ice pick. The steel barrel made divots in the icy floor as he slammed it but failed to find purchase. Quickly running out of options Mickie instead turned the weapon towards the edge and fired into the open air. The recoil from the blast shunted him away from doom and Mickie breathed a sigh of relief as his sliding slowed. Then he swore as he gradually began to pick up speed once more, this time heading down the steep slope. He turned the gun forward and pulled the trigger, only to be met with a puff of steam as the weapon slowly shifted barrels. Panic sent needles through his chest as Mickie gradually slid faster while his gun reloaded. When the barrel clicked into place he immediately fired once more. His slide stuttered briefly from the force of the blast but did not slow enough to let him stop entirely.
Ice was moving by faster and faster as Mickie gained more speed down the path. Small bumps that he might not even have notice on his walk jolted and bounced him about. The wind whipped by his face, making his eyes water and mouth dry. The next shot of the gun was used to push himself back away from the edge of the slope as he slid toward it again, slowing him little in his descent. Suddenly he was upon the hunched transport beetle, slipping towards its rising form at terrifying speeds. Desperate for a way to stop himself Mickie reached out an arm as he rocketed past, attempting to hook it around one of the creature’s legs. He caught it on his elbow and with a terrifying wrench felt something pull out of place on his shoulder before he spun free from the robot. The jarring movement of the attempted stop sent him spinning and Mickie roared in pain and fear as the ledge approached once more. He attempted to blast himself away from it, but the shot went wild with his spinning and Mickie lost his grip on the weapon as it kicked. Then it was to late, he reached the edge and slid over into open air.
The drop was as terrifying as it was brief. Mickie shot towards the icy ground, staring wide-eyed at the smooth bottom of the approaching pit. Partway down his back met the steep slope of the frozen cliff, though it did nothing to slow him. Unwilling to watch his approaching doom Mickie shut his eyes just before hitting the ground. Luckily the wall did not meet the floor in a jarring angle, instead curving up to in in a slope. From above this slope looked like little more than a step above a right angle. However, as Mickie hit the curve it proved enough to shift his momentum and send him careening out onto the icy base of the mine. The slope was not gradual enough to be gentle on his mortal flesh however, and Mickie greeted the bottom of the mine by connecting his right knee with the side of his forehead.
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Coming awake, Mickie’s first thought was on how much his body hurt. Bones ached, his left shoulder pounded in pain, and he had a headache that felt as if his brain was being boiled. The next thought he had was to question how he was even alive to feel the pain in the first place. Putting the pieces together he realised the slope at the base of the cliff had saved his life. Taking a moment to lay still and let some of the ache’s fade, Mickie breathed slow. That had been stupid. How had he forgotten about the quakes. The beetle pausing to brace for them should have been hint enough to alert him to the danger, instead he bumbled from cover and almost died because of it. He released a breath through gritted teeth and cracked open an eye slowly. The spearing headache was still there and the light entering his eyes did little to alleviate the pain. He needed to do something about his busted shoulder however, and that would require at least sitting up. Rising with a groan Mickie found himself sitting on the ice surrounded by a multitude of strange, sleek cylinders. They were dark in colour and had a rounded end topped with what appeared to be a green button. The strange objects were strewn all about him, and as Mickie craned a stiff neck he noticed their source. A large metal container was upended some distance away, dented on one side with cylinders littered around an opening. He must have slammed into the container during his slide and sent it flying. Not a pleasant stop for an unconscious body, but fortunate all the same.
Setting about the next key item on his agenda Mickie examined his shoulder. It was clearly dislocated, the bone of his arm pressing oddly into the skin, pulling it taught. Could have been worse. Mickie balled up the front of his shirt and bit down on the waded rag. With a roar of pained effort, he wrenched the bone back into place. The pain was astounding but after a brief period to recover Mickie found himself thinking on how good he felt for someone who just fell off a cliff. The headache was still there, sure, and his shoulder was only beginning to calm from his abusive healing. However, looking up to fall he had just survived Mickie could not help but laugh in wonder.
‘I’m like the fucking terminator, just keep getting back up.’
The retort of metal on ice broke him from his astonishment. Mickie glanced about to find a miner bot approaching the edge of the debris field he had created. Preparing to sneak off as it approached, Mickie paused when the machine instead scooped up one of the cylinders littering the frozen ground. He could have sworn he saw two of the limbs move in an approximation of a shrug as it glanced about before the bulky figure turned and set off towards a distant hole in the ground. As it approached the spot several other miners scrambled up and away from their burdened companion. They moved away from the worksite and towards Mickie. One of them must have seen the location of his accident because it let lose a beep that sounded almost distressed. The whole squad of workers set off towards him and began to gather up the debris lying about. Trying to ensure they did not stumble into him; Mickie rose on painful legs to sneak away. Before he reached the edge of the cylinders however the first miner bot remerged from the divot in the ground and rushed toward its compatriots with a warbling beep. The bots on cleaning duty all froze and hunkered low. Seeing their movements Mickie’s eyes widened, and he dropped to the floor, lying flat while watching the machines. The frantic solo miner reached its buddies and swiftly huddled alongside them. Nothing happened for a few long seconds. Mickie guessed at a count of about ten before there was a bright flash and terrible boom from the hole across the mine. The ground bucked with the force of the explosion and Mickie could have sworn he heard the creak of ice through the ringing in his ears. The earth settled as his headache returned in force, displeased by the explosive method of mining. Mickie glanced about at the strewn bombs with a sudden wariness and wasted no time in slipping away from the deadly debris field he had created. He was lucky he had not triggered one of these bombs when slamming into their storage. Even an unstoppable terminator might not be able to shrug that off. The thought gave Mickie an idea. A terrible idea.
Shoving the budding plan away he instead moved towards the divot that had been the focus of the blast. In the caves above simple mining had been effective for removing the dark ore, he was curious what was different in this pit. All the robot miners had set about clearing up the mess of lose explosives in the wake of the detonation, keeping clear of the explosion site for now. Reaching the edge of the hole Mickie found a slope that led straight down to a massive wall of dark metal. Unlike the veins above this was huge, a single monstrous block of ore. Judging by the debris strewn about he guessed the miners were attempting to blow off chunks of this huge resource to process. Steam was rising from superheated metal in the aftermath of the explosion, puddles of water surrounding the ore already appearing to freeze in the subzero temperatures. Mickie experimentally picked up a chunk of ore that had landed nearby, finding it warm but already cool enough to handle. Or maybe it was hot, and his strange demon powers let him handle it like they let him walk out on this ice. Either way he got a good look at ore, finding it to be odd shape for a lump of metal. The piece was slim and long with a bulb on one end, kind of like a forearm and balled fist. Peering closely Mickie got a sudden sinking feeling. It was not kind of like an arm, but exactly like one. He could see the ridges of curled fingers, feel the light bump of veins against bone. The thumb appeared to have broken away, but by tilting the dark material he could see nails pressed up against the flesh of a palm. Mickie swallowed and turned back to the larger body of metal as the remaining steam billowed free.
‘What the…’
The murmur escaped his limps, almost a groan as he beheld the dark material. The metal was not some kind of natural mineral. It was people. Or at least, it had been. Before him was a massive mound of frozen bodies, as lifelike as the imprisoned demons had been. A screaming face there, a curled torso there, a leg jutting from the mass over there. It was people. It had to be. What else could it be. A terrible mass of bodies, fused together into some kind of metal that these machines were mining.
‘This place.’
Mickie turned from the site and stomped away, walking right by the approaching mining bots without them being any the wiser. He realised he was still holding the arm and tossed it aside in disgust. How was this even possible. Perhaps they were buried statues or something. No. That made no sense. Mammon had been surprised that he was able to survive on the ice freely. This must be what normally happens. People freeze and turn into some kind of metal that the Mechanist mined at its leisure. Mickie reached a wall and slumped against it, seething. He glared at the bulky miners as they returned to the pit, waiting for his anger to cool. The plan he had pushed aside slid back into his thoughts as Mickie waited for his demon companion to return. If Miz-Mag wanted to climb, then they would climb.
And they would do it his way.