Letha's scream echoed in the room. The arms holding her tightened, drawing her further from her father and brother. Hadrian was on the floor with Wrath's boot crushing his windpipe. His fingers clutched at the sole, coming away bloody and torn.
"Get off him! He can't help you!"
Wrath snarled, "I want these ghosts gone." A beam of light came through the window, peaking through the blinds, and he scowled, "It looks like its almost time for them to make their appearance."
Her brother choking, Letha elbowed her captor in the ribs, "You'll only kill him. He can't help you! Let me try again, maybe they'll listen this time."
Their father shook his head, "No, no, no. You can only see that irritating nun and German gymnast. And you can't even send them on their way. Your brother can get rid of them all."
"He can't," Letha yowled, "You're such an idiot! You never learn."
The red eyes that scowled at her were sharped than usual, a hint of fire flickering at the edges; hellfire.
"Archer," he ordered.
A rumble came from behind Letha, and the arms holding her became one across her shoulders. The other hand pulled her head back by her hair, exposing her throat to her father. He grinned in sick pleasure.
"You should know, daughter," he said, his eyes narrowed, "that I could have killed you just now, but, unfortunately, your brother is occupying my talents."
Hadrian's eyelids flickered shut, and his arms fell dead by his side.
Wrath nodded. He strode across the room, slapping Letha hard across the face. His nails nicked the skin across her jaw. Letha gasped, thrashing and kicking out. "You bastard."
"Shut her up." Wrath wiggled his eyebrows at his daughter as the hand released her hair and clamped over her mouth, "Now, dearest daughter, speak up when you see your brother."
Eyes frantic, Letha switched her gaze to her brother's prone form. Leaving the cemetery quickly, without so much as a word to Mickey, she'd arrived home to find her brother sitting on the front step. Their father's servant had been making gruel for them, an inedible potion that Letha had refused to eat. When her father and uncles had returned home, he hadn't taken kindly to her comments. The wall behind her was spackled with the mixture.
Now, Letha watched as the spirit of her brother floated to it's feet, casting a waxen light as it began to drift. Her eyes darted as she followed it, and her father chuckled.
"Welcome back, my son."
Hadrian smiled softly, holding out his hand to someone not even Letha could see, "A pleasure to meet you, Dominic. I am Hadrian."
Wrath followed his daughters eyes, a brow raised, "What's he doing?"
Grinding her teeth, Letha ignored him, watching her brother. Hadrian was talking earnestly with someone, his hands on his fists. All expression vanished from his face, leaving his features blank, but he jerked and was talking again.
"You stabbed your own brother," He said, shaking his head, "Your family died thinking you killed yourself. Some of them already think you're in Hell. Since most of them are in Heaven now, and you're not, it's likely all of them think it now." Letha knew her brother well enough to see the pain his words were causing him. She didn't know how his preach-ee was taking it.
A flicker of light caught Letha's eye and her head jerked to assess it. The old Nun, only her face visible in her habit, was carefully making her way towards him. Her face was contorted by fury. Letha decided it was time to act. She bit down hard on her captors hand, drawing blood. The metallic spice flooded her mouth, but she didn't unclamp her jaw until the flesh was ripped free. She spat crimson onto the tiles.
Uncle Edacitas, Gluttony, smiled appreciatively, but Letha didn't notice. "Get away from him, you Bitch!"
The nun startled, narrowing her eyes at Letha, but continued to approach Hadrian. Letha squirmed frantically, wriggling out of her one-arm restraint. She dashed across the room towards her brother's soul, but her father coat-hangered her. Sharp pain shot up her spine as Letha landed on her butt, clutching her tingling funny-bone.
"So," her father said, sneering, "The annoying nun is back."
Letha spat again, pulling herself up onto her knees and clambering to her feet.
"Get away from him, holy-woman," She snarled.
The nun smiled mischievously, settling her hand on Hadrian's arm. He turned to her in surprise.
"Can I interest you, Sister Julianna, in a one way trip to hell?"
The nun slapped him, "You and your sister, your whole family, is an abomination. You all deserve to rot in the Hell-fires you preach about, to feel the pain of all the misguided souls you've fed the Devil."
Letha brushed past her father's arm, glaring at him. She stepped to her brother's side.
"Go away, witch. Back to whatever miserable purgatory you suffer in."
The nun stretched out to slap Letha, but her fingers raked through her, sending shivers down Letha's spine.
"I am not a part of your world," Letha reminded her, smiling wickedly, "You cannot touch me."
"None of you in this room are a part of my world, Letha. My world was one of peace and charity. You and your brother shouldn't be here; children of rape and Wrath."
Letha wedged herself between the ghost and her brother's spirit, "My mother was not raped."
"Not physically," the nun said, "but then, that's not what I meant."
The blood rushed to Letha's face, and she could feel her temper licking at her heels. The nun smiled victoriously.
"Our father," she said, "who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name..."
As if they could hear and see her, Letha's uncles and father bristled, swallowing heavily. The invocation of their arch-enemy's name was enough to cause them great angst, and they all stepped away from the nun before they could stop themselves.
"...thy kingdom come, thy will be done..." Sister Julianna continued, grabbing the cross around her neck and brandishing it proudly.
"I'm not a vampire," Letha growled. The prayer was giving her a head ache. "If your God is so great, why does he let you linger here? Why does he not claim you as his child? You have waited longer than the three days his own son did, witch!"
The nun's prayer faltered to a halt and her jaw throbbed.
"Perhaps," Letha went on, "It is because He will not accept you into heaven? Perhaps you do belong in Hell and He leaves you here so that one day soon, you might choose your correct path. You great God himself has sentenced you to eternal damnation. Remember that when you recite how we are an abomination."
Sister Julianna was shaking with rage, her edges becoming undefined. She had brightened considerably, but Letha couldn't prevent one last jibe from slipping out.
"Oh," she said, "Is that wrath I see?"
The nun exploded. Her spirit flew throughout the room, shaking furniture, shattering windows, and knocking the deadly sins to the ground. Letha stayed standing with some difficulty, her hands at her ears until the woman's shrieks had died down, and the exhausted spirit had retreated to purgatory.
Pixking himself up from a pile of broken glass and cold gruel, Wrath glared at his daughter, "Did you get rid of her?"
Letha turned, "For now."
Her eyes cast about for Hadrian, anxiety gripping her chest. The other spirits in the room were setting up a low wail, and though she couldn't see them, Letha could feel them pressing in on her.
"Hadrian?" She called, getting desperate until she saw her father's amused expression; he would not win. "Hadrian!"
"Yes?" Her brother was faded, barely visible in the badly lit corridor, and he cast too little light of his own. "You really shouldn't do that to the spirits, Letha. It makes them a lot harder to convince."
"Enough of that," Letha strode over to him, shoving one of her uncles out of the way, "You need to get back in your body now. I can hardly see you."
Wrath stiffened, shaking his head, "I don't think so. Those spirits are not gone. I can feel their....humanity." he groaned, "It's disgusting."
Letha spun to face him, "It's your own fault." She gestured to include all seven brothers, "All of you. They are all people you murdered. You took their lives, so they will haunt you for yours."
"You will get rid of them," her father yelled, "Or I will..."
"How will we get rid of them?" Letha screeched, stabbing at her father's chest with a finger. Her blistered skin protested, but the pain added to her fury, "We have been trying for nearly twelve years, but to no avail! When will you give up?"
One of her uncles stepped forward, "We are the Devil's children. We will banish every human soul to hell, regardless of who they are or how long it takes us!" he sneered, his tail whipping viciously. Uncle Fastus; Pride.
Letha ignored them, swinging back to her brother, "Come back to your body, Hadrian," she coaxed.
"But it's peaceful here, Letha," he said, stepping away from her. His left leg was through the wall, "When you aren't all yelling..."
Wrath didn't hear him; "No!" he kicked his daughter in the stomach, sending her crashing into the wall. Her head connected with the plaster, and more than her father's eyes glowed red. Gritting her teeth, Letha rolled onto her stomach, reaching for her brother.
"Don't stay there, Hadrian. You need to come back!" Her brother hesitated, "Their blood is on our Father's hands, His hands, not ours."
Wrath growled fiercely, setting upon his daughter. His knee dug into her back, pressing the air from her lungs, and his thick fingers wrapped around her neck. For the second time that day, Letha struggled to breath. She couldn't see her brother, couldn't talk to him, and she gave up, staring at her father. Her eyes brimmed with hatred, and she was sure they were red to him.
Black charged in from the edge of her vision, and Letha could only mouth her final words; words written centuries before her, "Out, damned spot! Out, I say!--One: two: why, then, 'tis time to do't.--Hell is murky!"
And as her world faded to darkness, Letha heard a single, desperate breath.