Detail Writing

We all remember.

And that is the worst torture.

*~*~*~*~*~*

It's strange, isn't it?

How even in the brightest places the few shadows seem to hold a dark awareness, as if they are consciously fighting the light.

An even more terrifying thing to imagine, though, is the opposite situation. That in the dark, cold places of the world, shadow rules the heart of a place, while light and brightness must fight to keep hold.

I am in one such place now.

I walked along the ground slowly, feeling chills, not of fear, but of eagerness falling through my body like rivulets of cool water. The disquieting noised of nothing pervaded the air, the silence only disturbed by the odd crackle of flame.

My feet made no sound against the ground- no surprise there, it was covered in a least two feet of soot and sulfur ash. My steps were firm enough to move me forward, but light enough so that I barely made an impression in the soft powder. My longtime friend-of-convenience, Sherdach, was not so lucky.

"Malachi!" He yelled, my name muffled and separated into a dozen syllables by his hacking coughs. His feet were sunken into the ash, up to his knees. The soot was flying around his face, irritating his eyes, skin, and flying into his throat.

I paused, heaving a sigh of annoyance, and turned around, flicking my shoulder blades about to brush the dust off of my deep crimson robes.

"Yes, Sherdach?"

"Do you not think that you could allow me one moment of rest? I cannot breathe through this blasted ash!" He gestured wildly, stirring up a large cloud of dust, not helping his breathing situation any.

"No, Sherdach." I answered curtly, preferring my usual short answers.

"But why?" He whined. He knelt down and tore off a few inches of rough fabric from the foot of his robe. I winced as the loud ripping echoed through the vaulted catacombs.

"We're late." I returned, my ever-present shortness the only thing keeping my temper at bay.

At that, his eyes widened and he started picking up the pace, slugging through the soot like it was water. I smiled grimly, turning to face the darkness in front of me once more.

Down the tunnel, the soot gently washed away, revealing a beautifully smooth but cold marble floor. Sherdach mumbled appreciatively under his breath.

The rough-hewn stone walls gradually changed into the same black marble, though this was unpolished. Pillars began to appear, changing the marble cave into an ancient temple. The pillars were beautiful; the polished black columns were shattered by white veins of crystal ran through the black stone. These pillars though, were soon forgotten when we reached the end of the hall.

A gigantic door, created of the same black marble, towered over our heads. The white crystal was far more noticeable, with deep seams spidering through the dark background. An elaborate bronze locking mechanism sealed the door.

The mechanism alone was an artistic masterpiece. Twining bronze gears and wires and levers stretched across the entirety of the door. The spider-silk fingers of the lock creeped like ivy across the black background, and some found their way into grooves in the marble, and some crawled over other wires, clearly a distance away from the marble, though they left no shadow. I sucked in a breath when I saw this, for the bronze must have been mixed with the blood of demons-who leave no shadows, being creatures of shadow themselves- creating an incredibly strong alloy with a bloody shine and a nasty bite.

I frowned when I reached the door, searching it for a place to knock. The bronze mechanism seemed to coil across most of the marble, and, knowing that if I touched the nasty metal I'd lose some valuable part of my anatomy, I refrained from going within two steps of the door.

My frown deepened when I saw that the pseudo-delicate bronze formed a thin web across the entirety of the door. I tilted my head to the side, as if hoping that seeing the door in a different way would help me make my way through the bronze riddle.

"Lord above, Malachi," Sherdach sighed. His reedy voice grated against my ears, and I shuddered against the condescending tone he used. I saw him move forward and for a very brief moment I considered letting him grip the alloy. Just to teach him a lesson.

Instead, I grabbed the scruff of his robes, wincing when my hand brushed against the cool, sweaty skin on the back of his neck. He grunted a little, falling back onto his butt hard.
He looked up at me incredulously, anger and surprise mixing in his expression.

"You dare?" He accused furiously.

I simply pointed to the bronze, and muttered, "Demon Blood." As soon as he heard the words pass my lips, his eyes opened wide in shock.

"I-I thank you, Malachi," He muttered in reluctant gratitude. After frowning for a moment, he asked sharply, "So how can we enter?"

I shrugged, a confused expression lingering in my eyes. I turned to the door once more, as if staring at his hard enough would force it to open. I closed my eyes, frowning ever more deeply, when a deep, haunting echo whispered through the door.

"Ye may enter, if ye so wish," The voice was hollow and dead sounding, like the life had been sucked out of it. Out of the shadows behind a pillar to my right came a small creature, hardly up to my knees.

"Though if ye should pass, I envy ye not." Another voice, identical to the first, echoed from the left pillar. A nearly identical creature stepped out, to stand out next to the first.

The two creatures were small, about the size of a five-year-old human child. Both creatures' skin was the sickly, sallow color of candle wax. Their ears had achieved points, and their eyes' sclera had a yellow tinge. The facial structure of each differed though; the first creature, a male, had high cheekbones, exotic, almond shaped eyes, and a thin, petty mouth. Raven black hair stood, spiky and untamable, on his head.

The second, a female, it seemed, had a pretty, heart-shaped face and big red-black eyes that hinted at a cynic sarcasm unsuited for the size of the creature. Silver ear piercings peeked through blue-black hair that hung down straight as night time silk down her back.

"We must pass, young ones," said Sherdach kindly, mistaking the small creatures for children.

Both stiffened, a hissing noise escaping the mouth of the cynical-eyed one. The one with the petty mouth nudged her, and then turned his fierce glare on Sherdach.

"I wouldna call us 'young' if I were ye, Sherdach of the Fifth Legion. We are far older than ye have ever dreamed of becoming," He spat, cruelty twisting his small features. Sherdach jolted back in shock, surprise reaching his eyes. I rolled my own, turning to the one with the cynical eyes.

"Tristis, may I and my unfortunate friend pass?" Tristis turned to eye me, interest reaching into her small features.

"Ah, Malachi, I ne'er though I'd see ye passing this way 'gain," She hissed, her spiteful tone piercing my ears. Her speech was old and musty, grating against my memory.

"Aye. Nor did I," I answered ruefully. She laughed then, a cold, high, evil laugh.

"Atrocitas, shall we?" She asked of her small friend.

"Aye, sister." They turned in tandem, moving to either side of the door. The placed their long-fingered hands on two small, and previously invisible metal levers. In unison, they twisted a cap off the top of the bars, pulled a stone from inside their robes, and dropped it inside the hollow tubes. They turned the breathed words into the hollow tubes, and a loud clicking began to emanate from the center of the bronze lock.

Instantaneously, the bronze mechanism started whirring, turning, twisting, and moving about in all different directions. A sound similar to glass on granite could be heard if I stretched my ears. The small creatures turned back to us, a cruel grin marking each of their faces.

"We wish ye luck," Atrocitas grinned nastily.

"You'll be needin' et," His sister finished. Her face mirrored his.

"We thank you, Tristis, Atrocitas," I nodded to them in turn.

"Ye are welcome, Malachi of the Bright Star," They acknowledged me in unison. They, true to form, turned, perfectly in sync, and walked back to their respective shadows.

I turned back to the wall the lock had once crawled over. The bloody bronze seemed to have melted into thin air, leaving a stark, black marble wall in its place.

We walked forward, towards the now bare marble doors. I frowned slightly, and I placed my hand on the dark stone, shivering as the freezing cold shot straight through my hand to the bone.

I pushed forward, my hand sinking straight through the marble. Sherdach gasped as the black marble liquefied under my hand, and slowly started creeping up my wrist and forearm. Wasting no more time, I stepped into the stone, taking a deep breath before allowing my face to sink into the marble. I continued to hold my breath, instinctively blocking the cold magma from going up my nose.

When I finally passed through the entirety of the liquid stone, I took a deep breath, my heart pounding like crazy. I felt the muscles on my shoulder twitch unhappily. I ran through a mental list of body parts, twitching them all experimentally to ensure they were all there.

Suddenly, a hacking sputter shrieked from behind me. I sighed deeply; my moment of peace was gone.

Sherdach was coughing up small droplets of liquid onyx that melted into the marble floor immediately after hitting it. He hissed at me, his voice breathy and squeaky, "Warn me next time, Malachi!"

"Yes," I replied absentmindedly, turning again to face the next stretch of dark marble.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As I padded down the hallway, my soft leather boots made very little noise against the cool floor. No carpet softened the harsh coldness of the marble, nor did any paintings or tapestries interrupt the solid blackness of the walls or ceiling. Overall, the marble hallway gave the feeling of a black hole, unending and cold.

Unless the horrifically loud tap clunking of Sherdach's metal-soled army boots is an unusual sound in the context of a black hole.

Yes, I'm pretty sure it is.

We walked and walked, for what seemed like hours. I do not know how long we walked in that hallway, but I was anxious for every inch between my destination and me as well as thankful for every minute that passed before I reached.

I spent my time thinking hard, planning and examining every word I intended to say to my new… employer. Sherdach, however, spent his time a little less productively.

"Don't believe it…gotta follow him to Hell and back…creep…scary little bastards… gotta get outa this place… something is so wrong with that guy…"

His speech had turned modern now, an unfortunate habit of his. Speech of modern day was so sharp and almost clackety, like the dry buzzing of rock against steel.

The soft shi-shi my shoes made against the floor continued, growing almost deafening in the increasingly loud silence. The hallway grew tunnel-like, the polished marble walls and floor returning to rough stone. However, the décor became much more elaborate. Crimson silk hangings began to appear on the walls. Unnoticed by either Sherdach or me, the harsh appearance of the floor was suddenly softened by a plush rug made of some rare and expensive material.

Mirrors made appearances often, all shapes and sizes appearing once every few feet. All were of excellent make, be they a small, electrically lighted vanity mirror or a polished metal disk from ancient Greece.

Elegant yew tables took their positions in alcoves in the walls; both ancient and modern baubles stood on top of them. Everything from snow globes to Ming vases could be found in that hall.

The tunnel, which had previously been lit by the master's will, now held hundreds upon hundreds of candelabras. They brightened the tunnel, sending a flickering light to all corners of the hallway. The candles themselves scented the air with a cloying smell; like the taste of a very sweet, thick frosting.

Eventually, the rock walls gave way to elegant mahogany paneling, giving the hall a look of scholarly dignity. The hall itself widened, as did the alcoves, making room for the cushy armchairs that were scattered in an organized, yet haphazard way.

Now, the alcoves became home to shelves of books; some held music, in some charcoal and paper for drawing could be found. All of it arranged with such an old-fashioned and comfortable feel that it gave off the impression of an old, rich professor's library.

Now, we came upon the second door. This one was much less small and grand than the previous. It was a simple wooden door, and it fit in with the general décor of the room. Lacquered molds were carved into the wood, and the whole thing was polished to such an impeccable sheen it looked more like honey-brown metal than wood.

It held no semblance of the elaborate lock that guarded the last door; in fact, the only warning the door spoke of was the small gold knocker in the middle of the wood.

The knocker was elegant and seemingly simple. At first glance it looked just like a simple bronze ring and clapper, but on closer examination I saw that the way the gold had been melted and fired, the simple loops and the weave of the metal gave off the impression of flowing water. Intricate knots and twists were worked masterfully into the gold, and yet it gave an overall feel of effortlessness.

Sherdach eyed the lock nervously, his beady eyes glancing back and forth between the lock and me, my head cocked.

I regarded the knocker.

And, rather surprisingly, the knocker, in return, regarded me.

"Well, wot choo standin' 'round for?" The knocker Spoke in a nasally, rasping voice. The voice carried a sharp cockney accent.

"Oh, um…" I said, speechless. I was dealing far better than Sherdach, though- at the sound of the knocker's voice he had stumbled back, looking frantically around the room for the source.

"Well?" The knocker insisted.

"Can we… that is… may we?" I trailed off. This was Animation- I'd never seen Enchantment like this before. It was fascinating.

"Spit it out, pretty-boy, Oi hain't got all day," the knocker said irritably.

"May we pass?" I finally asked, relieved that my tongue actually worked.

"Identification, please. State you name, rank, status, and business." Gone was the nasally, annoyed sound the knocker had produced. Its voice now rang with authority, and I unconsciously understood that whether it was Living or Not, the knocker could throw some nasty Curses my way.

"Name, Malachi of the Bright Star, Rank, Dominion, Status, Fallen, Business, Faustian Deal."

"Aye, you may pass." The knocker announced, after some minor contemplation. The gold ring turned itself over without a squeak, and the door swung silently open on its hinges. I padded forward, sighing in relief. I passed through the door, then paused and turned to see Sherdach arguing with himself.

"Hey, you," The knocker addressed him. He ignored it. "Hey!" Again, Sherdach didn't seem to hear the lock. "OI! Beans for brains!" He finally jolted out of his trance.

"Huh?" Oh, my eloquent friend, such a joy you are to have on road trips…

"He- She- It, needs to know your information," I told him exasperatedly.

"Uh, krhm," He looked utterly bewildered.

"Just tell it your name, rank, status, and business, Sherdach." I rolled my eyes.

"Ah," He nodded. "Um, I'm Sherdach of the Fifth, I'm an Infantry Standard, my Status is Fallen, and my business is…" He looked at me imploringly. I hadn't yet told him exactly what our business was, only that if we were late both of us would lose our fire.

"He's with me, Knocker." I sighed.

"Ah, all right then. You can pass, then too."

Sherdach slowly approached the door, his eyes monitoring its activity warily. the Knocker , however, seemed to sense no threat from Sherdach and it appeared as if the Knocker had fallen asleep- if that's what Knockers did.

After approaching the door with all the caution of a deer skirting a snake, Shrach darted through the door as if Lillith herself was hounding him.

After passing me up in the hall, he jerked to a halt, brushed himself off, and in a completely calm voice, told me, "Well, what are we waiting for?"

I rolled my eyes and followed him down the corridor.