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  Loving Her

  Unleashing Hell, Volume 2

  Viola Tempest

  Published by Viola Tempest Publishing, 2022.

  Loving Her

  UNLEASHING HELL BOOK TWO

  VIOLA TEMPEST

  Loving Her

  Unleashing Hell Book Two

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  © Copyright 2022 Viola Tempest

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  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination.

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  Cover Design by Burning Phoenix Covers

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 1

  It’s time. We’ve waited for five thousand years for this very moment. Five thousand years trapped inside this treacherous body, haunting me for millennia. But now, now is the time for our redemption, to take back what rightfully belongs to me and my family. The ground rattles and shakes, a sight I’ve longed for, for more years than I dare to count.

  It’s time for the humans to suffer like we have. I walk closer to the surface of the Earth, listening to their mundane conversations above me, and I chuckle. That light vibration, barely a quiver in the grand scheme of things, and they’re already whimpering like the dogs they are. All that money, all that pride and pretense, I’m surprised the little earthquake hasn’t sent them running for their rockets to jet off toward the stars in fear.

  I don’t hate humans, not entirely. They’re an ignorant breed, but I can’t hate them when I was once one of them, walking through life as oblivious to the universe as they are. If I hadn’t fallen to the tragedy of living in the Underworld, I would never have come to the realization that it’s important not to make enemies of others.

  I’ve spent centuries regretting my actions. Why had I been so rash? Why didn’t I just keep my opinions to myself? If I had, none of us would be in this mess. I ruined my life, and the lives of my family; they’re paying the price for my mistakes. I was young, I was impetuous, but they were persecuting us because we were different. Didn’t that mean anything to them?

  Of course, I was going to defend my people; of course, I was going to scream bloody murder. Should I have known better? Yeah, of course, I should have. I didn’t help my family in the slightest; I only made things a hundred times worse than they already were.

  I proved those ignorant human fools right; I proved their point… but could they have maybe had a little compassion for us as well? Was that too much to ask?

  “Charlie! Grab the keys! Grabs the beans and the chicken! It’s happening! The apocalypse is nigh!” I hear an elderly woman shout above my head.

  “Goodness, Betsy, how many goddamn times have I told you? It’s not an apocalypse; it’s just a little earthquake!” The elderly man, Charlie, replies.

  “Whatever it is, I’m not about to stand up here and risk it. We need to get to the bomb shelter. Did you go to the Nova’s? Are they coming?”

  “I tried knocking on their door, but no one answered. Come on, before it gets any worse.”

  “I thought you said it was just a ‘little’ earthquake?!” Betsy snaps back, their voices growing dim as they move away from where I stand.

  I chuckle. Just a little earthquake. I can understand why they might think that. I mean, who really expects the beginning of the end? Their innocence is amusing to me. Betsy’s right, though. She’s one of the few lunatics who actually aren’t as crazy as the world thinks they are.

  If only they really knew what happened every thousand years; if only they remembered or even believed the stories their ancestors left behind for them. If only they knew; if only they believed that every thousand years, the ground reopens, and the creatures of the Underworld travel to the surface to reclaim what had once been theirs. The ultimate battle between two species, where neither side is guaranteed safety. Maybe if they knew, they would be more forgiving… or at least, more repenting.

  Anyone who wants to become immortal doesn’t know anything about living forever. Life becomes monotonous, meaningless, when they’re forced to relive the same events over and over again with no end. Always the same outcome, always the same result, because no one ever learns. A perpetual cycle, an endless loop.

  I used to lie awake at night and wonder about the creatures living outside the realm of Earth, wondering what the species living in other dimensions live like. Wishing, dreaming, that I were one of them, something other than human. They always say be careful what you wish for, and they’re right. Because now, I’m living that life, and I have regretted it ever since.

  My mother always told me not to be afraid, that the creatures I felt wanted to hurt me might actually have something else going on, and might actually need help themselves. A bit like bullies. Sometimes, people hurt others because they’re being hurt themselves, and it’s their way of dealing with what they’re going through.

  I didn’t believe her; what kid would? I shunned the idea, as all humans do, refusing to trust anyone or anything that might hurt me. I guess this is karma, giving me a taste of my own medicine.

  I stand guard, holding my ground as the layer above me continues to shake. The black ground beneath my feet feels softer than usual, like stepping into wet or loose soil, threatening to suck me down into it and never let me go. Never, in the five thousand years of my life down here, have I ever experienced this. I don’t remember it ever feeling this way, and it strikes me as odd, but I have bigger things to deal with — much more important things. Like my freedom.

  I have a mission, and I owe it to my family not to get distracted by something as trivial as the ground feeling weird. It’s probably nothing, after all.

  “Get ready!” I call over my shoulder to my family as they stand behind me, holding hands, alongside other members of our coven.

  Any minute now. Any minute, and the ground above us will crack open and reveal the world above our heads, always just out of reach, until now. The doorway to our freedom.

  This isn’t the first time the door has revealed itself to us; in fact, it’s the fourth time that I can recall. Unfortunately, as life would have it, none of the previous times have been successful. Climbing onto the surface and taking back what’s rightfully ours isn’t as simple as killing a few humans to regain control. Even if we prove victorious, despite many fallen victims, the curse they put on us forces us to remain in these wretched bodies. Without the amulet and the power of the Chosen One, nothing we do will ever give us salvation.

  The last war was the worst by far. We had such high hopes for the human that we found, the one obsessed with my people and the Underworld we are forced to occupy. We should have known that he was blatantly lying to us about being the Chosen One; we should have known better.

  He’d constructed his own amulet, convincing us that it was real, that it would finally set us free. How naïve we were. All our combined years, and we’d let a fake fool us, so desperate for our freedom that we happily believed it was real, purely because we wanted out of our cage.

  When the day finally came, when the portal opened, that was when we learned that it was all a lie. The amulet, the Chosen One, all of it was a lie. He’d been studying us for years, learning how we came to be, where we were, and he waited for his chance to prove that he was our king. And when he realized that he wasn’t special, that he wasn’t anyone at all, he had no choice but to lie. So desperate to be something, anything, in a world where he could be a little more than just a maggot.

  That lie cost the lives of so many of my own kind, including family members who’d sacrificed themselves for the chance to save the rest. Lives lost for nothing. He didn’t survive. Of course, he didn’t. Before we were thrown back into the Underworld, we made sure to break his neck to teach him a lesson. It was less than he deserved, but it was all we could do.

  This time. This time will be different. This time, I will find the Chosen One who can break this curse and save us all. But first, I need to break through this barrier.

  “Stand back!” I warn my family.

  I have to make sure the coast is clear first. The last thing we need is to breach the surface, only to be ambushed by armed humans waiting to kill us. I can’t risk losing anyone else. Not after the loss of my father, not after he sacrificed himself the last time.

  It’s a tragedy I will always remember. I resent myself for not stepping up, taking his place. I failed him that day, but never again. I will keep the others safe in his memory and make sure no one else dies on my watch. Not if I can help it.

  I reach a hand above my head, placing my palm against the concrete as I wait patiently. Or as patiently as I can when all I want to do is free myself of this living hell. I can feel the vibrations through my body, and as soon as I see that first crack of light, I move. I reach for it, fingers curling over the edge of the crack as I pull myself through, leaping out onto the surface and spinning around, motioning for my family to follow me.

  The moment my feet touch the black asphalt, I’m
struck by the feeling that this was how the ground used to feel like in the Underworld, solid and safe. I take a moment to look around. Everything is so different from the last time I was up here, and nothing is as I remember it.

  The homes are more developed, stronger than they had been before, and a lot more of them. Made from red brick, an interesting choice. Metal contraptions with wheels cruise along well-paved roads, and large pyramid-shaped poles stick out of the ground, connected with wires from one to the next. The people walking around all carry small devices in their hands, staring at them intently as pictures move upon the faces of the thing they cradle, as if it’s their own child.

  I breathe a sigh of relief as I finally see something I do recognize. The familiar yellow and purple tones that have plagued my mind for centuries are still prevalent on the streets, despite how strange everything else looks and feels. It’s almost comforting, almost, except I know what it means.

  Something, other than the homes and how the people are acting, is different this time. Strangely quiet, like an animal waiting to pounce on its prey, leaving the weaker animal terrified of what is inevitable.

  It strikes me as being too quiet, and I quickly look back to the doorway, realizing that none of my family members had joined me on the asphalt. The door is sealed shut.

  “No, no, no!” I cry, clawing at the place the door had been mere moments ago, hoping to pry it open again and free my friends and family. But it’s no use… they’re still trapped down there, and I’m alone, left to face the humans alone. What have I done?

  “Daddy, look! That man is all black!” I hear a child’s voice call out, and I know he’s talking about me.

  “Kevin, stop that! Don’t be rude.” The father hisses.

  I know what he’s thinking, and I don’t blame him, but it’s not what the kid means.

  I dart for the bushes that line the street, hiding out of sight and waiting until the father and son move away, grateful for the man’s embarrassment as it means he doesn’t want to linger longer than he has to. I look down at the dark skin on my hands, repulsed. I look as though my skin has been covered in oil. Thick, slick, and sickly.

  This isn’t what we planned. Centuries of organization, and everything has gone wrong; none of this was meant to happen. My family is supposed to be here with me, by my side, finding the Chosen One and destroying the humans. I can’t do this alone. I don’t have the strength to fight them all by myself.

  Chapter 2

  I hear a whistle, and I whip around, my gaze fixing on a man walking in my direction, alone. I smile. The perfect prey for my disguise, some good luck at last. I check that we’re alone; no need to alert anyone as to what I’m about to do… or to the fact that I’m even here. Not yet, anyway.

  Confident that we’re alone, I lunge at him from behind the bushes, tackling the man to the ground. He screams and cries at my appearance as he struggles to free himself from my grasp, but I’m far stronger than he is, and his struggles are futile. I can see the way he’s looking at me, but I can’t say he looks much better, with his balding head and the beach ball barely contained by his hideous garments.

  “Who are you? Wh-What are you?” He whimpers, eyes wide as he stares at me. “Please, don’t hurt me. Someone, anyone, help!” His whining voice scrapes against my skull. For a man who looks like he could be a wrestler, a sumo wrestler anyway, he sure doesn’t scream like one.

  I try to conceal the disgust and pain that the shrieking tone of his voice causes me. I’m not willing to show any weakness to my prey, but that voice!

  Even my little sister sounds less squeaky when she tries to summon an army of the dead, only to have that army turn on her seconds later. I’ve told her hundreds of times to not conjure an entire army when she can’t even manage one hellhound. But she never listens. She has the strongest power out of all of us, but she can’t control it.

  Melanesia isn’t like the rest of us. When the ground swallowed us five millennia ago, we didn’t find ourselves alone. We stood in the presence of real demons, fire-breathing demons with claws sharp enough to rip open a grown human being and fling him into another universe entirely.

  We were terrified and confused at first, faced with these creatures we’d only heard stories about for years, watching as they killed off so many of us. Those of us they spared, they accepted, molding us into their own. We learned to live with them for five thousand years, plotting our next move to take down the humans, but our goals were very different from theirs.

  We wanted to redeem ourselves, to reclaim what was rightfully ours, and achieve our salvation. For them, sparing us and helping us was in exchange for our help when they asked for it, though they never did tell us what they wanted, and we didn’t really care since all we wanted was to get our lives back.

  That was how my sister was born. After my father died during our last attempt to overthrow the humans, my mother chose to remarry. To him. I’m not even really sure if demons have genders, or the known body parts that usually go with genders, but if any of them do, it’s him. They’re creatures of destruction, with magical abilities to reproduce in ways I’ve never really understood.

  Asmodeus, my step-father, isn’t exactly a saint. Other than Lucifer himself, Asmodeus is the most ruthless demon in the Underworld. He has no shame in eradicating anyone who crosses his path, or even looks at him weird. I remember once when one of my own dared to joke around and call him “Lord Ass” rather than “Lord Asmodeus,” and I swear, I’ve never seen anyone liquify so fast before that moment. One snap of his fingers and gone, nothing left but a puddle of red goop that had once been someone I’d known. I learned to fear him, in my own way, and respect him in another.

  It wasn’t long before Melanesia was born. Half-human, half-demon. Powerful enough to levitate a small town after just one year of training, which is more dangerous than some of the fully-trained half-demons I’d been around. In a way, it’s fortunate for this world that my sister still has a lot to learn. But then again, it isn’t because we would have been able to beat the humans with ease if she could control her own powers. But we have a long way to go before Melanesia is going to be able to blink an eyelid and wipe humans out in the way her father wants her to.

  My fist slams into the man’s face, knocking him out cold with one hit. Maybe a little too cold… since he stops breathing immediately. I shrug; I don’t care that he’s dead.

  “One less human to kill later,” I mutter, throwing his limp body into the bushes behind me once I remove the items that I need.

  Putting on his yellow coat and picking up his purple umbrella, I roll my shoulders until the coat settles on me more comfortably. Hopefully, it will be enough to keep me unnoticed for a little while, until I can figure out how to open the door and let the rest of my kind out and onto the surface.

  My family, my entire family, is still trapped in that abyss, and I’d much rather be there with them than here alone in my enemy’s territory. It only takes one wrong look from someone, and I’ll be as good as dead.

  I’m strong. I like to pride myself on that, but without any real powers other than looking like a freak, there’s no way I can defend myself on my own, let alone take out the humans. I don’t think even Lucifer has the power to take on this town alone, not with the curse. It’s why he needs us. I can speak telepathically through dreams, but then again, everyone in the Underworld can. It’s how we learned to communicate without Lucifer finding out.

  He’s a tyrant and a dictator, and most of the conversations involve wishes to overthrow him and take over his kingdom. But sometimes, it’s better to suck it up and do his bidding, rather than risk combustion. The phrase “better the devil you know” is pretty accurate. As awful as Lucifer is, we know who, and what, he is, but if someone like my step-father were to take over? Well… who knows what will happen to us?