“Where are we?”
“Pretty sure we just found hell.” I waved a hand in the direction of the silent city, proceeding down the small hill we’d emerged on.
“Hells not real.”
I didn’t dignify that with a response. I could see a map near the beginning of a new path. That’s exactly where I needed to start. Maybe going through Goetia wasn’t such a bad thing after all. I wasn’t completely clueless about what to do this time. The map had the same interactive look to it as the ones I’d seen before, glowing with a list of names positioned in the upper right corner.
That’s where the similarities ended.
DEVIL’ S PLAYGROUND was displayed at the very top. That was one of the first things I noticed. A second was how much bigger this city was than Goetia.
“Which one are you?” I asked my newest travel companion, looking over the list.
“Dion, third in the second column. My girl’s sixth.”
Morrigan, I read silently.
“What kind of name is Devil’s Playground?”
“One that more than likely describes exactly what that city is like.”
“That city?” He pointed.
“Do you see any other cities around here?”
“…no.”
“I’m Liliana by the way. Lana for short.”
He stepped closer, and I caught whiff of his cologne. It reminded me of Colgate—a strong minted scent.
There was no relief in seeing the girls’ names on this map when I didn’t know what was going on or where they were. All I could discern thus far was that they were alive, unlike two other people that’d been newly listed.
Ciaran’s name wasn’t on here at all. Neither were Maverick or the twins. I wasn’t sure what to make of that. I studied the map’s surface more diligently, taking small mental notes for later.
This was an entirely new layout and I wanted to have it as down pat as possible. When I was satisfied, I took a step back and looked over at Dion.
“You ready?”
He turned his head at an angle, brows dipping. “Ready for what?”
“To go find your girlfriend.”
That got him to perk up. “You’ll help me?”
“She might be with my friends.”
“Do you know where they are?”
“Nope, but I’m about to go find out.”
Weaving around him, I started down the next path. He followed less than a second later. After a few twists and turns, a weathered pair of iron gates came into view, serving as a barrier.
I stepped forward and wrapped my hands around the cool iron bars, peering through the gap so that I could get a better look at what lay ahead.
“How do we get through?” Dion asked, looking over my shoulder. “And why is it so quiet? Where is everyone?”
“This isn’t that kind of city. Just keep your eyes and ears open. As for how we get in, we’ve got this.” I pointed to a small black recorder that’d been attached to the upper portion of the fence, reaching up to hit play before Dion could ask any of the one million questions written all over his face.
There was a whirring noise, and then a familiar voice began to speak.
The jester.
Her petulant tone was undeniable.
“It’s a penitentiary full of rhymes and riddles.
A place where dark and light go hand in hand.
Blood and sin will drench your skin.
Fuck, kill, sacrifice, those are your only options.
Countless heirs have come before you, they’re rotting corpses shall be your sole companions.
Trust no one.
Question everything.
Pyscho versus psycho let your true self emerge.
Servatis a Maleficium, something wicked this way comes.
Welcome to the Devil’s Playground….”
As soon the recording clicked off, the gates unlocked and swung inward.
Dion instantly started shaking his head back and forth. “That sounded like a whole-bunch of bullshit to me. We can’t go in there.”
I brushed aside his minor freak out, more concerned with what was said on the recording.
The initiation comment from my abuelo and now this. Why did I feel as if she was speaking to me directly?
For the first time since I’d woken up, a small trickle of apprehension worked its way down my spine. I took a deep breath and shook the jitters from my hands. I knew as soon as we stepped inside it was game on.
Could I do this?
Yes.
But I sure as shit didn’t want to.
I knew what going in here would cost me. I knew there was about to be a lot more blood on my hands. That’s not what bothered me.
Choosing the moral high ground wasn’t really a feasible option at this point. I didn’t care who had to die or get hurt for me to see this through. In fact, there was a part of me eagerly looking forward to it.
That was precisely the problem.
There was this thing inside me that never bared its teeth in fear, but out of eagerness to rip something apart and happily watch as it bled out.
Ever since we got to Goetia, all the effort I put into being a decent member of society had all but slipped away. There wasn’t much I could do to change that anymore. I had to finish this. Not just for me or the girls, but because someone was going to pay for every fucked-up thing, they put us through.