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Chapter 1

Author: Renée Ripman
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

Indra will soon die, but not yet. For her inner vision, she sees Lucifer standing above her with a glowing iron in his hands. Have I slipped up? she thinks.

"No," says the voice inside her. "You haven't said anything." It's her mother's warm and comforting voice. "You've done well."

She doesn't know how many days, weeks or maybe months she's been lying on the damp, cold dirt covered floor waiting for death to relieve her from the pain in her body. For a while she was convinced that she was already dead and buried in a dark grave, but her immortality causes her body to slowly heal the open wounds time after time, enabling Lucifer to cause her more pain through his continuous torture.

A sharp pain in her waist stops all thoughts and causes her head to pulsate against the damp floor. It's not over yet. Reality comes back like waves rolling on an ocean and as she drifts out of consciousness, she can hear water trickling down the stone walls before spilling out onto the stomped earth floor.

She also hears the rats as they scratch and fight for the remains of pieces of moldy bread. She can feel their long tails stroking against her legs making her stomach turn in disgust, but there's nothing she can do. Panicking is not an option.

Instead, she shuts out reality and thinks about her mother. She can still see her face in front of her, standing at the edge of the black cliff. She remembers how her mother's lips felt cold on her forehead when she kissed her daughter goodbye.

"Indra, we will be with you!" she cried out, her words carried through the wind, but there and then Indra felt far too sad to answer back and only gave her mother a small nod, as she disappeared in the dense fog.

Indra also remembers hearing a bird's scream and how she raised her gaze to locate where it came from. Far away in the distance, she saw a huge eagle. Riding on its back was Vishnu, she knew that. He steered his eagle in circles around the cliff. Vishnu had been watching her ever since she was born, to find out if she was evil or good, but he had never interfered in her actions, only observed her from a distance.

Indra puts her arms around her to protect herself from the gale force wind, which rips violently at her thin coat. She leans forward and looks down over the edge of the cliff. Down there on a ledge, she can see a black spot growing bigger and bigger, as if the black substance wants to embed the weathered gray rocks in its cover of dark colored blood.

She ponders for a moment over the question, how much of the blood is her own – or is it just his?

Because below the cliff lies her father's motionless body. Julien's face looks innocent, and almost peaceful, and for a brief moment she can understand why her mother still cared about her father after all. But she didn't – and that's why she killed him.

Indra thinks back to that fateful day when she chose to take her father's life. Throughout her childhood, her father, Julien, had persuaded her to go back to hell time and time again. There she had been manipulated and brainwashed by her father and grandfather Lucifer, into choosing a side. You cannot be both good and evil, her grandfather had said, before forcing her to commit atrocities against his subjects, in an attempt to make her believe that evil always prevails. Over and over again, their message had been imprinted into Indra's consciousness. There were times when she just wanted to give in and let darkness take over, but the lingering desire to do good had constantly made itself felt.

Indra's upbringing in Asgard with her mother, stepfather and younger brother had been filled with good times and hard work. The Vikings were ruthless and did not hesitate to use force, if necessary, but in the midst of their rampage there was also love. The Vikings were always ready to stand up for their loved ones, their friends and neighbors, whenever someone was in need. They had shown Indra that the choice was not just between black and white. Her path in life wasn't mapped out yet – it was up to her what she did with the earthly life she had been given.

But deep inside she already knew as a child that her biological father and grandfather had been on a mission: to claim her powers, so the two of them, Julien and Lucifer, could rule the world with her by their side. All the gods knew that Indra would ascend into her powers on her twenty-first birthday. Julien and Lucifer needed to get her on their side before that happened, because that day she would hold the whole world in the palm of her hand. Odin would have long talks with her as a little girl. He instilled in her the importance of making your own decisions and being in control of your own destiny. Not to let others dictate what she was going to do, because in the end, she would have to live with the consequences of her own actions. If she used reason, it would make her a good leader for her people.

But over the years, her father Julien had been more influenced by Lucifer than she had been. She had witnessed Lucifer turn her father against her as he forced her to carry out evil acts against her will. Julien's empathy had faded over time and her tears had gone unnoticed as she begged to escape her grandfather's orders to harm his loyal subjects.

Indra thinks back to the first slap in the face her father gave her. How the stinging sensation burned in her cheek and stained her bright skin into a deep red. The pain spread through her body and shot straight into her heart. How the shame soon brought her tears to an end and got replaced with sheer determination. She remembers turning off her emotions and letting her rage take control of all reason.

By the time she woke up from her trans-like state, it had already been too late. Around her there had been dead bodies, paying with their lives for her uncontrolled wrath. The shock had paralyzed her and with forcelessness she had met her father Julien's gaze. And for the first time, she saw fear and uncertainty flicker in his dark eyes. She knew then that he was afraid of her.

In the corner of her eye, she caught a content smile creep across her grandfather Lucifer's face. There and then, a decision started to form within her. She would avenge her grandfather for what he had subjected her to – and that revenge also included her father, for what he had put her through during her childhood.

It was the last time she saw her father and grandfather, until that fateful day she took her father's life. But as Julien lay dead below the cliff ledge, Lucifer suddenly appeared behind her and clutched his iron clad grip around her body. It all happened in a split second, and before she could react, he had dragged her into the underworld, down to hell.

Indra hears steps approaching in the tunnels outside her cell. She is snatched back into reality and filled with horror – is it Lucifer's creatures coming to put down a bowl of dirty water and throw her a piece of moldy bread? Or is it Lucifer himself who will continue his torment of her?

Torture begins suddenly and without warning. It can go several days without anything happening, but then followed by continuous hours of inflicted pain. While he beats and burns her skin with the tip of a glowing iron, or cuts into her soles of her feet until they become bloated and inflamed, he asks the same questions over and over again.

"How did you kill my son? What powers do you have, that I don't know about? Who's helping you? Tell me the truth, and I'll stop – Indra, I promise you that."

She hasn't said anything, and he won't stop until she starts sliding back into the soothing state of unconsciousness. Sometimes he waits until she wakes up, and then it starts all over again. She is tired of hearing her own agonizing whimpers and screams as he burns deeper into her skin leaving his marks all over her body, scars that she knows she will carry with her forever.

Her fingers are broken in several places. Her index finger is also severely infected and the sweet rotten smell from the wound makes her feel sick. Lucifer's favorite method of torture and Indra's greatest horror is when he places a nugget of gold under her back and pushes his knotty hands against her chest, until the gold cuts into her spine and almost breaks it in half. She can sense the smile in Lucifer's dark voice as he repeats the words:

"Only the best is good enough for my grandchildren. You get to feel gold against your body, that's more than I give any of my other prisoners. Indra, think about it. Give me the answers to my questions, and it'll all be over. I promise you that."

Lucifer has provided her with a small iron mask that covers her eyes; he knows that her greatest powers lay behind her golden orbs. He has had the mask forged in Svartheim's hearth and only the main blacksmith, Sindre himself, using the specially made key forged in the roaring fires of his hearth can open it.

With every day that Indra approaches her twenty-first birthday, she can feel the strength of the yellow light, in her eyes grow stronger within her. But she also finds it harder to control the force, of the light arising behind her eyes. Some days are worse than others, on those days the inner sunshine gives her severe headaches. When she has been under stress or feeling upset, the floating yellow specks of light can accidentally cause her to set things on fire in her surroundings.

But the more Indra understands and learns about the inner works of her powers, the easier it has become to control them. As a child, it was harder. She once accidentally set fire to Odin's silver thatched throne making the sheer silver melt into a puddle. As usual, he had had a temper tantrum and had carried on yelling and screaming about random things in a burst of anger, but since the yellow light in her eyes also gives Indra the ability to read the thoughts of others, she immediately discovered that even he himself thought he had gone too far in his fit of rage against the Vikings. However, he had never confessed to this out loud, and Indra had found Odin both foolish and unfair, and her anger had grown to an unprecedented proportion.

It was the first time that her eyes displayed their immense powers. Nowadays, she has learnt to control her emotions and can more easily keep the yellow light in check. So far, she can only imagine how strong and powerful she will be on her twenty-first birthday, when she reaches the maximum strength of her powers.

Indra has other abilities too, but Lucifer doesn't know about them. So, up to the time he finds out her secrets, the torture will continue until he obtains the knowledge, he needs to destroy her forever.

She is proud that she has not slipped up or disclosed any details that could harm anyone. However, the satisfaction quickly fades when she realizes that an end to the torture would mark the beginning of a new form of suffering – even for the people closest to her. Death is the only thing that can bring an end to all of this, but Indra doesn't want to die.

The time floats into, endless days of starvation and pain, but it is loneliness that is hardest to endure. She hasn't talked to any of the other prisoner in the months she's been incarcerated. Sometimes she presses herself against the damp walls and listens for the slightest sound that will bring her hope that someone has come to save her. She often imagines hearing breathing, and sometimes she thinks someone is coughing or talking in the dungeon next door.

"Is there anyone there?" she whispers, pushing her ear harder against the roughly textured stone wall. But she never gets an answer. She is met by the ever-pressing silence and only her own shallow breaths and tormented moans filling the small cell.

The pain in her waist is getting worse, she is exhausted and sweating profusely from the fever that is ravaging her. All of a sudden, the room feels colder, like someone's opened the door and let the winter seep into the compact dungeon. From a distance, she can hear the sound of rattling keys and deep male voices.

Indra raises her hands to cover her face and curl up into the fetal position to braze herself for the encounter with the immortal creatures approaching. A key is turned in the lock to her small cell and she forces herself to lie completely still, without trembling or displaying any signs that would reveal that she is still conscious.

The footsteps approaches, where she lies on the stomped ground floor. She prepares herself to endure the hard blows, but instead the men stop in the middle of the room. They are disagreeing over something. Indra tries to hear what they say, but can't make out the low whispering voices or even recognize what language they speak.

She tries to lift her head slightly in order to be able to hear properly, but instead feels a hand touch her, she shrugs to free herself from the unwelcome contact. For months, touching has meant pain to her, but this man's touch is warm and friendly, she notices this but she doesn't have the courage to trust her gut instincts.

Is he really kind, and who is he? Lucifer has no well-meaning people in his dimension.

She hears one man say, "Don't take off her mask, we don't know if she can be trusted."

The man closest to him gets down on his knees and strokes her cheek gently.

"Sch," he whispers, pressing a finger against her lips to make sure she doesn't make any noises. "Indra, we're here to help you."

Indra slowly shakes her head and tries to say something, but it turns into a raspy croak. She feels something cold on her lips and becomes immediately aware of the cold water running down her chin. She quickly opens her cracked lips to drink some of the refreshingly clean liquid.

The man laughs softly and urges her not to drink too much, to not become nauseous. He removes the bottle and she tries to reach for it to get more of the vital drink, but he ignores her attempt. Instead, he places a cold hand on her forehead and gently removes a few strands of hair that has glued itself to the dry blood on her cheek. The gesture is thoughtful and she nods to thank him.

His clothes have a faint scent of salty ocean and roses in full bloom. The scent brings back a childhood memory and she reach for his coat as he tries to stand up.

"Indra, it's all right. I'm going to get you out of here," the man says, but she doesn't have the energy to believe that this nightmare is finally over.

He leans over her and whispers: "Sorry about this, but unfortunately it's necessary."

Fora split second, Indra feels the pain of the blow to the back of her head, before she sinks back into the deep, merciful darkness.

Comments (2)
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Renee
Thank you :-)
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Nygren Isabelle
Really well written!
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