Chapter 3: Finding Mother
When Delilah made it back to her chambers, she locked the door and removed her knife from her waist. She looked around her living space, and for the umpteenth time chuckled at how different the Underworld was to the landscape pictured in human drawings.
Humans believed that Hell/The Underworld/or whatever other name they had for it, was some dark fiery land, made up of caves and vast deserts and lakes of fire. This was, of course, absolute nonsense. True it was dark all of the time, and yes there was fire, but only in the form of lanterns and fireplaces to light the way and perhaps burn a soul or two. After millennia of demons, necromancers, and warlocks living (for want of a better phrase) and working down here, it looked an awful lot like the Surface. There was no sky, just a ceiling of earth that stretched on forever, but across the vast landscape they'd built homes and workplaces, just like the mortals. There were no towns or cities, but districts separated by invisible boundaries. Most inhabitants stuck to their own district, only the higher level demons and necromancers dared to venture into unknown territories. Of course some of the areas looked exactly like the pictures. Demons who tortured souls did so in fiery pits or cages hanging over jagged rocks. They all had a good laugh about this, saying it should surely make the humans feel more at home.
Delilah laughed aloud as she struggled out of her dress and petticoat, tossing them aside and pulling on her robe. Humans were so silly. Her living quarters were akin to an apartment. One floor with bedroom, bathroom, living room, and kitchen. The kitchen always made her laugh, as technically demons did not need to eat. Many chose to though, purely for the flavour. They were simply souls without a vessel, so they needed no sustenance, but humans had developed some incredible foods over the years, and it could be hard to resist. Most demons were not ones to even try to resist temptation.
She made her way to the bedroom, flopping down on her king sized bed in dramatic fashion. Though she had the body of an eleven year old, she had developed the taste of a Victorian Lady over the many centuries (512 years to be exact). She found that human Victorian styles worked perfectly with the darkness of the Underworld, and the candles, lanterns, and fires made her rooms look quite spooky. She liked that.
She did not need sleep, no demon did, but she liked to lay on the bed and think. Today she thought about the job she had just finished, proud of her work. In so doing, her thoughts naturally wandered back to the events she had been recalling as she burned the bodies.
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It had taken a lot of begging, bargaining, and bribing to get her Father to tell her where her mother was. It had taken even more work to get up to the Surface. Only the higher level demons knew how to travel up there, and none of them were very giving. In the end she ended up trading far too many souls for the journey, but she would make sure it was worth it.
She'd never been to the Surface before, and for a moment she forgot her mission as the sights took her breath away (figuratively of course, demons don't breathe). She'd heard stories about the brightness of the sun, but she hadn't been prepared for all the colour. In the light, everything seemed more saturated, and she saw colours she hadn't even known had existed. She'd read of them in books, and always wondered what they actually looked like. She knew they were greens and yellows and pinks and so on, but she had no idea which was which. All she knew is that they were beautiful.
She shook her head and got back to business. She could marvel later. It did not take her long to locate her mother. Humans were so easy to manipulate. Put on the crying little girl act and they'll tell you anything you need to know. Like most other demons, she was more comfortable in darkness, so she watched her mother from a distance until night had fallen. She seemed like such an ordinary, boring human, but Delilah knew her secret, and it was time she was punished.
She waited until the last light was switched off in her mother's house, then picked the lock on the back door and slid silently inside, closing the door behind her. She could see her mother at the bottom of the stairs, about to go up to bed. She skipped into the lounge, and put on her best little girl voice.
"Mummy, don't go to bed yet." Her mother froze on the bottom step, heart racing at the familiar voice. For a moment she couldn't move, then she turned her head slowly to look into the darkened lounge. She could see the silhouette of a little girl, and her voice shook uncontrollably as she spoke.
"Delilah?" She couldn't believe what she was seeing. She knew she must be mad, or dreaming. Maybe she had fallen asleep on the sofa after all.
"Yes, mummy. Don't you remember me?" Delilah moved over to the sofa, and flicked on a lamp. The light was dim, it wouldn't shine through the curtains, but it was enough to light her features and reveal herself to her mother. She stood by the lamp in her cutest red dress, black petticoat just peaking out from underneath. The black bow tied around her waist hid a small but sharp knife, and her smiling face and pigtails hid her wicked intentions.
"But… you died. You can't be real, you're dead." Suddenly instead of not being able to talk, her mother was rambling. She repeated over and over again that this couldn't possibly be happening. That Delilah had died ten years ago. That she saw it happen. Delilah simply raised a hand and her mother was silenced. Gone now was the cute little girl voice, gone now was the smile.
"That's right. I died, and it was you that killed me." She took a step forward. By some miracle her mother's legs seemed to be working again, and she ran up the stairs as fast as she could go, terrified of whatever that thing downstairs was. Delilah giggled. She loved it when they ran.
"I'm coming mother!" She called up the stairs, not too loud as she did not want to alert any other humans. Much as she enjoyed torturing souls, she'd never actually practised on a living human before. She'd be in so much trouble back home if someone survived and started telling stories.
She walked slowly up the stairs, after all, where could her mother possibly run to? She'd already been outside and seen that there was no fire escape. She'd also cut the phone line, just in case she had a phone upstairs, and noted that the silly human had left her mobile on the sofa. Though she'd never been to the Surface before, she'd read plenty about it, and talked to dozens of demons who worked up here regularly. She knew enough. This was going to be fun.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone