seven inglourious basterds
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THE THING IS — HELL FUCKS WITH YOU.
Isabelle doesn't know what she expected, when she took her evil dad's hand and stood up, but it definitely wasn't this. The thing with hell, she's learnt in her five minutes being there (she's super observant on like, the vibes of places) is that it fucks with you. Five minutes ago Isabelle looked around, at the medieval, chargrilled castle walls, and thought, gross, but the more she's walked through the corridors, lukewarm from the, like, hellfire burning outside of them, she feels herself liking it. And that's what she means. This place draws you in. But Isabelle guesses this is how you can tell that her dad rules this place, because she clocked it. She knows what it's trying to do. No illusion can blind Izzy's eyes... Or at least she thinks?
But it fucks with you. And she keeps on reminding herself this, as her evil dad shows her her room (a medieval-style bedroom, four poster bed and everything) and looks across at her, waiting for her to feel amazed.
"What do you think?" he asks.
"Uh," says Isabelle, her voice going super high-pitched. She can't tell him, can she, that she thinks it's a little boring? What if there are fiery pits and she's being spared because of him? Isabelle's gotta be smart about this.
So she says: "It's all right."
But, it's all right translates to it's underwhelming, because apparently you can't lie to this old bat. Isabelle eyes widen, but then the devil laughs. It echoes through the room, and she swears the four-poster bed shakes a little. Izzy's never watched Game of Thrones (she likes her TV how she likes her life — filled with fashion and in the Upper East Side) but like, is this what it's like? Because it's kinda gross, actually.
Her evil dad puts his hand on her shoulder, his palm uncomfortably warm.
"Obviously, Isabelle, you won't see the worst part of it all," he tells her, and he laughs again. Isabelle feels uncomfortable. "This is a safe place for you, and for me. I wouldn't have survived the wrath of the warring angels, have it not been for this grave..."
Isabelle frowns. He can say that word?
"If you want anything, though — just think of it, and it'll appear."
So she thinks of her actual bedroom, weirdly missing it — and like that, the room turns into that, complete with the attached walk-in closet, even the zebra-print belt she left on the floor the night before. Isabelle feels so much better, but then, she sees her white walls morph and gain a stoney texture, and she's reminded of the chargrilled castle walls. Gross...
But, she reminds herself, this place is trying to fuck with you.
"Is there anything else you want? It'll appear."
Isabelle thinks it through. She hasn't had dinner yet...
"Pizza," she says, in all honesty. "Like, Dominoes."
A table appears in the middle of the room, with a large pizza on top.
"Oh my gosh," says Isabelle. She takes a bite out of one slice. Part of her remembers that thing about eating fairy food but she thinks, fuck it. "This is amazing." She leans against the table, eating her pizza. Plain with pineapple. Her favourite. She quickly reminds herself this place is fucking with you, Iz. "You can, like, make anything appear?"
He nods. "Except for living people — well," he says, and he laughs again. "I can make living people appear, but once they're sent to hell, they can't get back. But you, my Isabelle, are different. You can walk from hell to heaven and you wouldn't feel a thing... Well. Those guys might get annoyed—" He points upwards. Isabelle giggles. "—but you could do it."
"I thought you could say their names?" she says.
"Yeah, but they get all pissy about it," says her dad.
Isabelle frowns. "That's annoying."
"But I can say the words," he says. "I know you can't."
Isabelle shakes her head. She eats another slice of pizza.
"Would you like to?" he asks.
This place is fucking with you.
She frowns. "It would be nice..." she says, trailing off. "I mean, sometimes it's a little annoying when I've got to skip, like, every school day we have a service." She shrugs, or at least, she tries to shrug it off, pretending like it doesn't annoy her as much as it really does. "I'm used to it, though. I'm all right."
"If you ever want to..."
This place is fucking with you.
Isabelle stands up, leaving the rest of the pizza.
"Can I see more of hell?" she asks. "Who's down here? Anyone I know?"
"Oh, no, you can't see them," he says, shaking his head. He smiles again, and Isabelle raises an eyebrow. She wants to see a murderer... She wonders which presidents are down here, ooooh, she can already imagine how excited Riley and Nate are gonna get... "But I can show you, hm, some of the souls I've gained..."
"What's the difference?" says Isabelle.
"The souls I've gained are the ones people have sold," says her evil dad. "But then the others... They died and they came here. But you don't need to see them." And then he laughs. "You do not need to see Richard Ramirez, for example..."
Isabelle's eyes widen. "The Night Stalker?"
Nate is gonna be so jealous he missed out on this!
"Is he like, super popular down here?" asks Isabelle. "Because he did all that nasty stuff for you?"
The devil shakes his head. "Of course not," he tells her. "He did work for me, sure, but he isn't valuable anymore, is he? I never said I was a charitable being. I'd still have my wings if I was... He's in the same bracket as those medieval morons, who donated to churches in their wills, as if their post-mortem charity would make up for their sins. So many people, Isabelle, act as if their actions will secure them a place somewhere, once they're dead. Those medieval people were charitable after they died, sure, but I had already taken them. The Night Stalker, similarly, did those acts, and when he got here, he expected a throne. Idiot boy... Everyone expects and expects and they never reflect."
Izzy raises an eyebrow. "So if I was sent here...?"
"Well, you'd rule," he says, nonchalantly.
That's weird to think about.
What Izzy's imagining is this: herself, in like, a big, fuck-off, Marie Antoinette gown, only like, with more black lace, because you know, it's hell. Maybe Izzy would have hot gowns like the ones they have at the Met Gala, that'll make her look like a princess... Wait, is she a princess? Because that's wicked cool.
"Am I, like, the princess here, then?" says Izzy.
Her dad nods.
And Anne in the senior class says she's the only royalty at Mary Immaculate. Suck on that! Izzy isn't just royalty of some tiny country — she's the princess of hell!
This place fucks with you, Izzy!
"I'll show you the souls," says the devil. "But first."
He looks into her eyes, and it isn't until now that she notices how black they are. There's not one imperfection on his face. He smiles super nicely, and she feels inclined to smile softly, back. Maybe he actually cares for her... Wait, no, stop!
"I want you to know..." he begins. "If you ever need any help, you have the capability to summon—"
Isabelle moves away from him, looking around. As she walks, the TV starts playing Gossip Girl, the intro echoing throughout the room. Amazing.
Cerberus appears, too, and Isabelle grins, sitting down next to him.
Lucifer frowns. "If you want to make this room into anything else, you can."
Isabelle shrugs. "I'm happy with this."
She hugs Cerberus. One of his heads licks her cheek, and she laughs.
"There's nothing you want?" her dad asks.
"I'd love a boyfriend, but that's another problem," she says, and she laughs awkwardly. One of Cerberus' dog toys appears, and she starts waving it, making the three heads chase it. But, Isabelle stands up, and Cerberus goes from Great Dane-size to a puppy. She picks him up, feeling like a devilish Paris Hilton, and she turns to her dad. "So the souls."
Lucifer walks Isabelle out through an archway, into a corridor, the medieval walls surrounding her again. The hallway in front of them is so dark she can't see the end of it.
"Do you want to know the beauty of this place?" says the devil.
Isabelle strokes one of Cerberus' heads, and nods. "Sure."
"The more you come, the better your connection will be," he tells her. Isabelle doesn't like the sound of that. "Your powers as my daughter will grow and grow... You could rule heaven and hell one day, if you truly desired it."
Childishly, she thinks, but Nate and Riley wouldn't be there. That's the concern here, isn't it? Not the fact that she's in hell, but the fact that this place will never be as good as home, because she doesn't have her best friends.
And then she frowns at the other thing.
"What do you mean, my connection?"
The devil smiles. "You'll see."
Magically, an archway appears, leading into a room.
And this is when things get creepy.
The room is lined with old-school prison cells — like the ones from the fucking Pirates of the Caribbean movies. Souls of different people are sitting in their own cells, looking so upset. Isabelle frowns. So when people sell their souls, they succeed in life, but like, they live in misery?
Dad and Marie are gonna be here.
Isabelle doesn't like this.
She sees a man in a business suit, and he's in tears, sobbing to himself, almost drowning in sheets with numbers and graphs on. She sees the lead singer of that rock band, Small Foreign Faction, and her ears are bleeding, her eyes squeezed shut in pain.
Isabelle doesn't like this.
"All of these souls are mine — and one day, they'll be yours... If you were to stay, you'd learn mountains about your potential..."
Isabelle looks back at the rockstar. At the businessman. At the actor. The old senator for New York, the one she met when she was little... All of this time, they were suffering... All of this people are in constant pain...
This is Isabelle's future. Forget the gowns, the talk of royalty. It's all a curtain drawn up to hide what she's truly destined to do. Hurt others.
And she thought she was a hero?
"I can tell this is affecting you," he says.
Isabelle crosses her arms. "Well, yeah..."
"They all made their decision," says the devil. "Am I terrible for giving them the freedom, the power to follow their dreams?"
Isabelle looks back at them, as if to force herself to remember this. Look at them, look at what you're apart of. "But they're so upset..."
"This suffering is a voice in their back of their head," he tells her. " It's not so bad, not when they've all gotten what they wanted because of it..."
Isabelle keeps on thinking, and you thought you were a hero, Izzy.
And then she sees Marie.
Marie, before she was Izzy's Marie. Marie, when she was the princess of Belgium, the eldest of her siblings, the heir to her mother's wardrobe, the twenty-something year-old that was hopelessly in love with the prince from another kingdom, a kingdom she had never heard of...
Marie, on the night she made her deal with the devil, her gown from that final ball muddy and bloody, her cheeks shining with tears, a crown stabbing into her forehead like it was made out of thorns...
Isabelle did this.
Isabelle was never the hero, this was never a hero's story, not when Marie, not when the person she loves the most is here, burning from the inside out...
This is not a hero's story. This is the story of a girl who's evil, at the core of her being, about a girl who's heart is only beating because the devil made it so.
"I best let you go home," says Lucifer. "School will be starting soon."
The next few minutes happen in a flurry; Isabelle, still bruised from seeing Marie like that, lets Lucifer kiss her forehead, before sending her back home. A gust of hot air engulfs her, and like that, she returns, back in her living room — but before she can move, Marie appears out of nowhere, pulling Isabelle into a tight hug.
"Isabelle!" says Marie.
"Marie!" says Isabelle. "I had the worst time down there—!"
Marie kisses Isabelle's cheek, which feels a lot more soothing than her father's kiss had been. The worry across Marie's face makes Izzy frown, though. "I was only gone for an hour, I'm fine, Marie..." she begins, but she trails off, when she sees Marie's mouth open in shock.
"He didn't tell you?" she says.
"Tell me what?" says Isabelle.
"Time works differently there," says Marie.
Oh, no, Isabelle thinks, already fearing the worst, when she catches a glimpse of the browning leaves of Central Park, the first warning sign of an incoming fall.
"It's September second."
Isabelle steps back, and she looks down at the ground, as if scolding the devil, back in hell.
"I missed summer?"
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ISABELLE IS PISSED OFF, TO SAY the least, when she realises that not only has she missed all of her summer vacation, but, she got back the last day of it. Meaning, the next day, she wakes up, business as usual, for her next year of school. And she didn't even get a break. This is just inhumane!
Apparently they all knew, though, what was going on. Some demonic figure told Marie who told her dad and then her brother and, of course, Nate and Riley. They all knew she was fine, not like the HYDRA kidnapping. Nate and Riley rush over that night to hug her and all that, and her dad and brother say they'll be on the next flight out... Isabelle, stupidly, texts Peter as well, because maybe he's worried... Maybe...
Finding out that time works differently in hell is something that Izzy's taken off-guard by. Like, the last time she was on earth, she was being attacked by an angel... And now, she's lying in her bed, at the start of September, her hair still curled from last May...
Actually — everything about hell has taken Izzy off-guard. She dreamt about blood and gore, not, like, fashion, like normal. Normally her dreams are nice and fun. Sometimes her friends are in them. But last night was weird. Last night, she dreamt about zombies clawing for her, some demon woman in the mirror, a Pennywise knockoff, and then, a strange garden, with a voice pushing her closer and closer to taking the fruit from the tree. Don't you want the knowledge, Moroi? she heard, but before her hand could take the fruit, she woke up, her clock reading 3AM, and her heart hammering.
Isabelle feels terrible. Like. Super terrible. She feels like she's missed out on something she was so excited for, she feels like absolute shit because of that dream she's just had, and above all, she can't shake the image of Marie's soul from her mind. She can't stop thinking about it. About Marie, with that crown tearing apart the skin on her forehead, and how that is what Isabelle's descended from. She's always known her dad's evil, duh, he's the devil, but it's different, seeing it like that. It makes it feel real — until now, she knew, but she didn't have the visuals to back it up. Now she has...
She can't sleep, so she gets up, and starts to write in her diary — things like "This is so freaky," and "Hell fucks with you," and a lingering thought about that garden, and those zombies, and that Fashion Nova Pennywise, so that she doesn't forget it. And then she looks back at the last diary entry, and she says to herself, "Oh my gosh."
The haunted house. The bride. She forgot all about it!
She's got to help them, like, right now. She doesn't care that it's an ungodly hour because those ghosts have been sitting there, waiting for long enough. Isabelle needs to help them. If she doesn't, the guilt is just going to eat away at her, more and more and more...
So she starts to think it through. She could get Eve, the bride, to go downstairs and talk the rest of the ghosts to move on. It could work...
Isabelle grabs her phone, but then she stops herself. It's 3:12AM. She knows no one's gonna be awake. And she knows that Riley and Nate won't know what to do, if she took them with her. Nate couldn't see the ghosts, could he? Only Izzy could, because of her dad. But Izzy needs help, someone who's used to this stuff...
Peter!
But he'll be asleep.
Well, she thinks, he'd wake up if his phone rang...?
(Maybe this is why she's the antichrist.)
So here Isabelle is, calling Peter's phone, hoping he'll wake up and answer and help her, despite the fact that (a) it's three in the morning, and (b) it's the first day of school tomorrow. Well, today, but it's still the night, so Izzy counts it as the day before. Anyway. He doesn't answer his phone, shockingly, which leads Izzy to believe that his phone's on silent, which then leads to Izzy calling her dad's secret service guys to get an address, which then leads to Izzy turning into a bat, and bolting straight for Queens.
She feels hopeful, though, for this plan of hers. It could work, and then, maybe Isabelle will feel better about herself. And if it doesn't, then, she can cross her fingers and hope that Peter's special tingle helps him kick serious ghost butt.
But whatever happens, Izzy can't do this on her own.
Put it down to hellish power, or something, but Isabelle gets to Queens, fast, and places her feet on a fire escape, dressed as Moroi again. She sees the Star Wars sticker on the window, and she checks which floor it is, so she knows it's Peter's. So, lightly, she knocks on the window.
Peter opens it after a couple more knocks, his eyes wide at the sight of Izzy Oswald, dressed as Moroi, standing outside of his bedroom window, like a fucking eighties' movie love interest. Izzy takes off her mask, so she can smile at him.
"I've got a huge favour to ask," she says, and she looks at the window. "Can I, uh, come in?"
"You need to be welcomed?" says Peter.
"In a place with living residents, yes," says Isabelle.
Peter looks at her oddly, scratching the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah, you can come in," he says, and like that, Isabelle climbs through the window, into his room.
She hasn't been into a teenage boy's room before — well, she's been into Nate's room, but that's different. This is, like, a whole new species. There's a Star Wars spaceship on the floor, and a towering pile of school textbooks, and blue checked bed sheets. Isabelle feels so out of place, right now.
"I like your room," she says, quietly.
Peter looks at her oddly. He's in his pyjamas. Star Wars ones. Of course.
"Why are you, uh—?"
"There's a haunted house uptown and I need to help the ghosts move on, tonight," says Isabelle. "But I really need your help."
"Why me?" he asks.
"Because the ghosts downstairs need to be, like, looked after, whilst I get the bride from upstairs — and I don't know if you'll be able to see them, but you've got your tingle-thingie, and I know you're good at fighting, and I need to do this tonight," says Isabelle. She pauses for a minute, and she looks up at Peter, ignoring the pyjamas, the overwhelming amount of socks and underwear and clothes on the floor, the messy desk with the textbooks. "Please, Peter... I need your help."
Peter looks at her, and Isabelle didn't realise she had moved to hold his hand, but she had done. He glances at the Spidey suit, badly hidden away, and he turns back to Izzy.
"Give me a minute to change," he says.
Isabelle grins at him, and pulls him into a hug.
"You're amazing!" she says.
She turns around as he gets changed quickly, and within minutes Isabelle's climbing back out of his bedroom window again. Peter, now in the Spidey suit, glances across at her, the eyes on the Spidey suit squinting.
"So where are we going?" he says.
"It's the haunted house next to Central Park," says Izzy, standing on the railing of the fire escape. "I'll show you the way." And, with that, she wills herself into a bat, flying into the air.
When they get to the house, Izzy feels different. She thinks she's been feeling different since she got back. Something doesn't sit right. She feels like... She doesn't know. She just has a weird pit in her stomach, like a voice in the back of her head is saying something...
Izzy turns back into herself outside of the house, in the grass leading up to it. Peter, who hasn't seen the house yet, turns to Izzy.
"So... it's haunted?" he says.
Izzy can hear the worry in his voice.
She smiles awkwardly, giving him a thumbs-up.
"You're gonna meet real ghosts, though, yaaaaaay...!"
She walks past him, up towards the house. Peter follows, a little tentatively, like Izzy and Nate had been, when they went to the house. The closer Isabelle gets to the house, the porch steps creaking underneath her feet. She hears the breeze behind her, the leaves on the trees across the street falling to the floor... The breeze misses the house, though, and the garden surrounding it...
Izzy looks at Peter, and frowns. "You are OK with this, right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," says Peter, and he bounces on his feet, as if warming himself up. "This is nothing Spiderman can't do..." His voice goes a little high, though, as he speaks, but Isabelle decides to not mention it.
"OK, so, I'm gonna go upstairs, you keep them distracted—"
Peter frowns — well, the mask frowns. Freaky. "How?"
"Uh," says Izzy. She tilts her head. "Try and, uh, round them up, in the ballroom, then I'll get Eve to go in there."
He snorts. "She's called Eve?"
"I know," says Izzy, rolling her eyes.
And then the front door opens, all on it's own.
"Well it didn't do that before," says Izzy with a frown.
Peter's eyes widen.
Izzy pulls a face. "Ghosts can't kill us, so we're fine?"
"Uh, yeah...?" says Peter.
The two of them walk through the door together. Isabelle can't see any of the ghosts yet; she knows they've escaped that one room, she knows they'll appear in a second, all around her and Peter...
The door slams shut.
"It wasn't like that last time," says Isabelle, frowning.
"Izzy," says Peter. "You know the, uh, tingle?"
"Yeah?" says Isabelle.
She glances up at the stairs, at the landing — at the open door, the one leading into the bedroom the bride had been in. Izzy's stomach drops, figuring that Eve has managed to move on...
So what's the plan?
"Oh, no," says Izzy. "I'm so sorry for getting you into this, Pete—"
And then the ghosts appear around them.
They look more grotesque than before, gaunt faces and unphased gazes fixed on her. An old man with a tattered hat is standing right in front of her, his skin so cold it's grey, his yellowing teeth exposed in an awful grin. The voice in the back of her head mutters something about this grinning man, and the instances he's practiced greed...
All of the ghosts are standing around them, and suddenly it makes sense.
They must've done that on purpose, because all of the ghosts are surrounding them, Isabelle especially. They must've made the door open, to lure them in. Isabelle, one of the few people to leave this house alive, now returning...
"Moroi," the grinning man says. "You will pay for your actions."
Oh, Izzy knows exactly who's after this bullshit.
The grinning man tries to tackle Isabelle, but Peter grabs hold of her, to pull her out of the way. Isabelle can see the grinning man fall to the ground, and slowly clamber back up.
"Uh — I'll think of something?" says Izzy, and she turns into a bat, to avoid the grinning man tackling her again. She sees Peter get out of the crowd, using his webshooters, landing upstairs on the banister.
"Where's the bride?" he says.
Izzy turns back into herself to speak, whistling out for Cerberus. "The winged thingy came here — it must've made her move on!" she shouts back at him. A little kid tries to stab her, and Izzy winces, trying her best to fight off this child, without hurting it... But the voice in her head tells her, this girl stabbed her baby brother, she's a murderer...
A man, who's shirt is soaked red with blood, swings the edge of a shotgun at Isabelle; she ducks, and grabs it from his hands, using it to hit him in the throat, hard. She uses her super-strength to snap the shotgun in half, worried they could use it to shoot Peter. She glances up to check on Peter — that's when she hears the voice in her head speak about the ghost with the bloody shirt. He poisoned his business partner, he stole money, he lied his way through everyday...
So the angel, the piece of shit, managed to get into here, send Eve away, and turn the whole fucking house against her. Well. They already hated her, but now, they really hate her. This is so unfair. What did Izzy do to deserve this?
But these things, this voice in her head is telling her... Things like this man was greedy and this girl is a murderer. Is she being told, what their sins were...?
This is so freaky.
Isabelle turns back into a bat, to get into the ballroom. She whistles against for Cerberus, and this time he appears, in all of his hellish glory; he isn't full-grown, but he's taller than Isabelle, his heads brushing against the bottom of the chandelier. The ghosts stop in their tracks when they see Cerberus, snarling, one of his tails circling around Izzy, keeping her safe.
"Hey," says Peter, and he lands next to Isabelle. "An angel did this?"
"There's this one that's really getting on my case, right now," she says.
"So why are they—?"
Isabelle frowns. "I don't know."
"Uh, maybe if they do this, it's like, a good favour," he says.
She purses her lips. "That's not very moral, though, for a winged thing..."
"And you're evil, right?" says Peter.
Her eyes widen, and a grin spreads across her face. "You're a genius, Pete!" she says. This makes sense — how she can hear all of these people's sins. "They're all destined to go to hell, for what they've done. And this winged thing must've known that — he's blackmailing them!"
"How do we use that, though?" says Peter.
She remembers her visit to hell.
"They're not going to hell," says Isabelle. "But... How can helping the winged thing, in the afterlife, excuse them for any sins?"
Peter shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know..."
Isabelle crosses her arms. "Did you know, in like, medieval times, there was this massive thing, where people would leave a load of money to churches, so they'd get sent to heaven? Kinda like, buying their way up there? But like, they're already dead, so it didn't work... They all have to go to hell, no matter what."
There's a sword at her feet, and she remembers the last time, when the same one was used to attack her. She picks it up, thinking.
Her dad said she could send people to hell. If she, like, wills them into going there, then surely, that'll work?
She feels terrible, doing this. She doesn't want to send anyone there, but then, what else can she do? Let them suffer, in this hell? Isabelle makes sure Cerberus keeps an eye on Peter, and Isabelle appears in the crowd of ghosts, a hellish force stopping them from going any closer to Cerberus. She sees the grinning man, who this time, grabs onto her neck, to strangle her — but Isabelle turns into a bat, stepping to the side, away from his grasp. She holds tightly onto her shoulder, and thinks, Send this man to hell, but Dad, be nice to him, and like that, he goes.
Oh.
Isabelle spins around, to look at Peter, who gives her a thumbs-up.
She runs back towards Cerberus, the ghosts growing angry.
"I did it!" she says. "But we need to do it quicker!"
Peter points at the sword. "Can you make things, like, magic?"
"Uh, I guess? Wait! No!" Isabelle feels an energising sense of confidence possess her. "Hell yeah it will! I'll make it!"
She grabs the sword, sparking tendrils of her own energy circling around her arm, her wrist, her fingers, until they light up the blade. "Let this sword, ah, send beings to hell!" she says. The energy lighting up the sword burns brighter, like blue fire outlining the blade. Wicked. She looks at Peter. "You shouldn't do this, Peter..."
"Why not?" says Peter, sounding a little like a teenage who's not allowed to do something... Oh, wait. "I wanna help!"
"You're not sending them to hell!"
"I want to help you, Izzy!"
He takes his mask off, to look at her.
"I wanna help," says Peter. "Mr Stark hasn't spoken to me since Berlin, I haven't been able to stop any big crimes all summer — please let me be useful, for once."
Isabelle wants to say no, but she knows how frustrating it is, to be in his position. So she sighs, and puts her hand out. "Pete, give me your hand."
He puts his hand out, and she holds onto it. "Let Peter's webshooters send the ghosts, here, to hell," she says, reluctantly.
Nothing happens to his stuff, but the sparks around her hands jump onto his suit, for a second, before disappearing.
"You good?" says Isabelle.
"Yep!" he says.
"Are you fine with, you know, sending ghosts to hell?"
"Uh, yeah!" he says. "It's what being a hero's all about, right?"
Isabelle tries not to show her displeasure. "Uh, totally...!"
With that, the two of them split up, Isabelle running into the crowd, swinging the sword like a madwoman, and Peter, into the air, perching on the chandeliers and windowsills, moving through the hoard of ghosts, piling on top of each other, trying to grab Izzy. Cerberus turns small, and runs at them, clearing room for Isabelle. Izzy ducks to the floor and dodges a particular nasty ghost with a shotgun, and Cerberus tackles them over.
Izzy can finally see gaps forming, the awful level of ghosts slowly decreasing — and then, there's a bright light coming from outside, getting closer and closer...
"Oh, no," says Izzy.
She looks up at Peter. He can't get hurt, and he will, if that thing gets here...
Izzy turns into a bat, to get up to Peter. "Change of plan!" she says, holding onto a curtain to keep upright. "The winged thing's back! Stay here — don't follow me!"
Peter shakes his head. "But what if—?"
"Stay here, it'll kill you!" says Isabelle.
She punches the window and jumps out of it, flying as a bat to get over the haunted house's hedges. She lands in Central Park, already in a run.
If the winged thing gets to the house, then she's putting Peter, her friend, in danger. She doesn't know how or why this thing has summoned, whether it's the demonic energy Izzy's letting out, or the fact he was using that house as bait for her, but there's one thing for certain — the winged thing isn't hurting Peter.
"HEY!" she shouts, the light brighter now. She stops running once she's past the lake, in the Ramble, a large green area in the middle of the park. It should be safe here; people won't be around, not as this hour. Which is a good thing. She doesn't know what the winged thing will do to others. She's gonna confront it, sure, but she isn't doing a thing until she's somewhere secluded.
"HEY!" she shouts again. She doesn't know if the winged thing can, like, sense her, or anything, so she frowns. She's out of breath, but she puts her hand to her throat, realising the only thing that's going to work, is by saying an up-there word. It's gonna hurt, but they'll sense it.
So she takes in a breath, her throat already burning, already being punished for what she's about to say.
"HEY, MR ANGEL!" she shouts. She almost can't finish the word, but she forces it out. She holds onto her neck, for some form of relief to the awful scratching she can feel. "OVER HERE, SHIT-FACE!"
The light is growing now, plummeting towards her. Isabelle can feel her heart in her throat, nervous as shit. She braces herself for the immense pain she's going to feel, her trembling hand clutching the sword from the house.
"I'm not scared of you," says Isabelle, her voice croaky from saying angel.
Her voice is shaking. She takes a step backwards, almost falling over the uneven terrain. Blood runs from her ears, down her neck, drying immediately from the burning heat her skin's radiating. Just like before, her skin is burning, from the thing in front of her...
"Yes, you are," he says, a perfect grin across his face. The gold sword appears in his hand, and he moves closer. "Don't lie to me, Moroi..."
He raises the sword, but this time, Isabelle throws her in front of herself, to stop the blow. She blocks it, and the angel seems to roar with rage. The angel moves closer to her, so much that her skin is peeling, like the fifth day of a Hamptons trip.
The angel moves his sword, and the sudden lack of force weighing her down catches her off guard. Isabelle falls backwards, her back scratching against a rock. Her hand loses its grip of the sword, in an attempt to shield her face from the bright, blinding light...
"I haven't done anything!" says Isabelle.
"You're the devil," he says. "You deserve eternity, burning in hell."
Why didn't she think of that?
"You're right!" says Isabelle.
"Wha—?"
She thinks of the chamber she was in earlier, her chamber, the one she was unknowingly trapped in all summer. She thinks of Cerberus, napping on the rug. She thinks of her father, Lucifer, in all of his hellish might—
—And like that she's back, in her bedroom in hell, her evil dad sitting on her ottoman.
"I knew you'd come back," he says with a grin.
Isabelle rolls her eyes. "Shut up."
i think i'm off my hiatus now!!! updates might be a wee bit slow for a while but i'm back!!!
sooo let me know what you thought, and thank u so so much for reading!!! <3 xxx