IV

The dark mist separated as yet another lost soul found its way in to the void. Enron watched, with mild satisfaction, from his iron throne. Beside him lay Plutus with his massive, ashen paws beneath his heavy head. He gazed up to Enron with sad, emerald orbs.

“Lugonu would have passed comment,” Enron began, “But I can merely smile.”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. From his reflection in the window, Enron could clearly see the toll this ‘life’ was taking on him. He hadn’t changed a bit; and that was the problem. His hair was still an ebony, dreadlocked mass, his skin was still a pasty white and his body was still as tall and slender has it had always been. No change; not even a fraction. In hell, like heaven, no one aged. Immortality was the trend and those residing in the underworld wished for death.

Even he, the new ruler of the level, felt as if he would die.

“Plutus, you know not of the stress we, as demon princes, bear upon our shoulders. You see not the work we do and the things we dream.”

“I know enough to know that you are much too young and naïve to be in such a position sir. I know you have much ambition and talent. You, as a soul, should not be dead at all, but used as the expert possessor that you are.” Plutus paused as his master gazed, nonchalantly, upon him, “I mean no offence to you sir.”

“None taken. In fact, although at first I took this on with ease and excitement, I no longer feel the drive. I just wish to back in the ranks, playing poker off duty and drinking sour whiskey. Alas I am not one of them now and leadership is my duty; and I must fulfil it.”

With that final speech, Enron turned from the glass and walked swiftly to the hallway. His metal boots clanked upon the flag stones while Plutus’ shard talons clicked softly. The sound was filled with authority, as if a king were entering a room, empathised more by the silence of the tower.

“Sir. May I be so bold as to imply where we are going?” Plutus barked.

Enron shushed him and continued to move forward. They descended stair way upon stair way, passed many a room and greeted many a demon in all shapes and forms. The hallways became darker and darker as the walked, the passageways more narrow and the stairs even steeper.

“Master, I insisted you tell me our destination.”

“The bowels of the tower dear pet. The catacombs have been locked to me for centuries but now, finally, I have acquired the skeleton key.” He reached below his waist coat and pulled out a long and silver key which dangled from ruby beads. The key had three ragged teeth upon the end; the body was dented with small, detailed images and the circled tip was engraved with Greek.

Plutus whimpered, “What is your purpose in the Catacombs? I-if I could be so bold?”

Enron shot him a dark look, the violet of his eyes deepening, “No, Plutus. You may not.”

Plutus asked no more and simply followed the sinister character deeper into the tombs.