Gods And Monsters

Chapter Thirty-one:

Upon arrival, Hel slowed to a halt and dismounted. She led her horse along behind her while approaching Heimdall.

His amber eyes seemed to gaze right through her, all-knowing and all-seeing. The shoulder plates of his gold armour were broad, and the breast plate was engraved with the prominent design of Yggdrasil. A diverging helm of gold donned his head, resembling horns. His strong arms and legs were wrapped in russet leather.

Both hands clasping the hilt of his sword, Hǫfuð, he nodded in acknowledgement. "Good evening, your highness."

"Good evening, Gatekeeper." She greeted politely. Her manners were hollow, without sincerity. Her current mood was not inclined toward banal pleasantries.

"What brings you here this night? Should you not be joining the feast?" He inquired, despite being fully aware of her reason.

She was going through withdrawal; an addict in desperate need of a fix. Afflicted with a bad temper, loss of appetite, and constant restlessness, Hel could bear it no longer. She had to know that he was still in one piece. She dismissed her concern for his wellbeing as the result of the unpaid debt she owed to him for his kindness. Genuine kindness was a rare thing to find these days.

"You know what." She was curt, her eyebrows raised. "How is he?"

"I wish I had good news to relay, but alas, the truth is not such. He is unwell."

"Show me."

"As you wish."

Hel strode up to him, the closed leather toes of her platform heels flush with his boots, and had to tilt her head back slightly, as he stood at a much greater height than she. Towering above her, he closed his eyes. Heimdall brought his brown fingertips to her pale temples and channelled his gift of vision into her mind so that she may see what he did.

Her eyelids slipped shut as her gaze was transported to the mortal realm of Midgard, and her focus narrowed in on Sunnydale, California.

There she found the man she most desired to see, huddled into a corner of the newly rebuilt Sunnydale High basement. Her heart sank. His head was bowed, clutched between both of his hands, his knees drawn up against his chest. His once neat, bleached hair had grown brown roots, curling into little, tousled tendrils.

As if sensing her eyes on him, Spike raised his head and propped his elbows up on his knees. His wild eyes were damp. The glistening tracks of salty tears ran down his sallow, angular cheeks.

He stared straight ahead blankly, muttering incomprehensible words under his breath. There was something feral in those glassy blue eyes of his, something unhinged about the slight movement of his lips as silent words continued to form on them.

His black shirt was unbuttoned, singed and dusty. Her gut clenched at the sight of angry, red lacerations criss-crossing his chest and abdomen, shallow cuts that appeared to be self-inflicted. Spike dropped his head, shoulders heaving with the choking sobs that wracked his body and fingers digging into his scalp.

Hel's stomach lurched as she was yanked back into her body, and her eyes snapped open. Her chest felt constricted. Her nostrils strung, as she swallowed the urge to vomit.

"Take me to him." She demanded.

Heimdall regarded her in solemn contemplation. "With all do respect, your highness; you would abandon your wedding and go against the direct orders of your king?"

"Yes." Her answer was determined, without a second thought.

He hesitated a moment, but knew that once she had her mind set, it would not be changed. "Very well." Turning his back to her, he ascended the five golden tiers of the large platform. It occupied the very centre of the vast dome and was lit from within.

He stood at his post proudly, grasping his sword hilt as he plunged it into the core of the platform.

Hel made her way around him, towards the enormous, gaping circular portal. The opening was framed by a three-layered ring of golden scales, the pupil of a pinwheeling glass eye, and the through the intricate design of panes she could gaze out into the fathomless depths of the universe. One could quite easily spend a lifetime in awe of their boundless beauty.

"I assume that you are aware of the recklessness of your actions?"

"Aren't I always?" Her feet were planted firmly on the floor, her hands perfectly steady at her sides.

His eyebrows rose. "Your king will not be pleased."

Hel rolled her eyes. "The Allfather is never pleased. The very notion of contentment is an affront to him."

The tapered gold needle of the Bifrost spun, swivelling until it was aimed at Midgard, and the portal became a tunnel of blinding light. The brilliance of it grew in intensity, until she felt the first tug of its allure.

Hel was drawn in, as though an invisible rope was pulling her forward, and absorbed by the fiery rays of cobalt, fuchsia, and orange.

The fluorescence shot from the Bifrost needle into a beam across the realms, transporting her along with it. Headfirst, she was propelled forth like a missile. The air itself was alive, crackling with tangible power. She was without restraints, weightless, as she plummeted through the narrow tunnel of light.

Her impact with the Earth was deafening. The ground quaked, imprinted with the enormous, intricate circular design of the Bifrost, and the grass beneath her feet was blackened to a crisp.

As the dust settled and atmosphere began to clear, Hel assessed her surroundings. She shielded her eyes with her hand. The sun blazed from high in the sky, indicating late morning, and the sky was a bright, powder blue. She had landed on the outskirts of a cemetery, thankfully missing the gravestones.

It was impossible to tell which boneyard it was, since Sunnydale had so many, however the downtown sector was within sight. She began walking in that general direction, but paused upon exiting the cemetery.

Hel glanced down at her grey gown, which was decidedly conspicuous. The hem rustled in the warm breeze and caressed her bare legs.

Concluding that it would be in her best interest not to attract too much attention, she casted a simple illusion. A shimmer of silvery luminescence transformed her attire into something more Midgardian. She inhaled deeply, exhaling a sigh, then resumed her journey. Show time.