Hell. Pentagram City, the Silence District. March 23, 1949.
Carmila Carmine was hardly an ordinary woman.
An ordinary woman of her time wouldn't have led a mafia clan, turned an entire family into a criminal enterprise, or engaged in countless illegal activities… An ordinary woman wouldn't have been a Godmother with so much blood on her hands. An ordinary woman…
Wouldn't have made sacrifices, striving to keep her family safe, protecting and preserving them as best she could. It didn't always work out, but that was life…
And Carmila was certain she was no saint. Her hands were stained with blood up to her elbows—both innocent and guilty. She wasn't Mother Teresa; she knew full well she'd never make it to Heaven. And she was right, just… not in the way she expected.
Carmila certainly didn't expect to open her eyes again in a place where the main difference from some "dark" neighborhoods would be the red sky, a strange smell, and countless red eyes staring from the walls.
One way or another, the place Carmila found herself in wasn't quite what she had imagined. She had thought she'd become a restless spirit, her grave avoided even by dogs on the Day of the Dead, or that she'd be trapped in this world forever like La Llorona, a local legend doomed to eternal suffering…
Instead, Carmila ended up… in Hell.
Real Hell, a mix of everything. Catholic or Christian, Islamic… Maybe even Buddhist, though Carmila wasn't sure about the last two.
After her death, Carmila found herself in a place where she was almost immediately robbed, attacked, and assaulted—all within the span of an hour, as she was still coming to her senses. Not the best first impression, but exactly what you'd expect from a place like this.
But as for others…
"Mrs. Carmine, is everything alright?" Zephyr, the Lord of Silence, interrupted her thoughts with his long-familiar voice. The man was shorter than her, though he was tall by human standards.
"Human"… Carmila still wasn't used to separating such concepts. After ending up in Hell, she had "sort of" ceased to be an ordinary person, becoming a Sinner—an immortal martyr.
"...Everything's fine, Lord Zephyr," Carmila shook her head, giving a short nod as she continued to follow Zephyr. At the moment, they were in one of the many new alleys of the Silence District…
A truly beautiful place, especially compared to the rest of Pentagram City, as Carmila admitted, along with the other Overlords and Sinners who might have heard of this peculiar spot in the Damned City.
Pleasant-to-the-eye stonework, sprinkled with falling leaves from the trees whose branches formed the arches of the alley itself. Not to mention the small "firefly" lanterns scattered here and there, adding to the atmosphere and giving the scent of foliage a certain… waxy undertone?
Carmila still found this place, the entire District, astonishing and vibrant. It was as if she had stepped into a fairy tale. The scent, the air, even the sensation on her skin—everything felt as though… she were alive again, back on Earth.
Something that shouldn't have been physically possible, this place, this district within the relatively small territory of the Damned City… Carmila wasn't an architect or a builder, let alone someone who knew much about Hell, but… she knew the approximate area of the Silence District, the size of the "star's peak"… This part of the district, like the couple of previous ones she and Zephyr had passed through, shouldn't have existed physically. There simply shouldn't have been enough space. But they did exist, and Sinners even lived here.
And Carmila had some suspicions as to why Silence had invited her here…
"...I'd say your suit, Lord Zephyr…" Carmila finally couldn't hold back, seeing such an unusual outfit on her familiar Overlord. Zephyr simply turned around, smiling that slightly eerie smile of his. Carmila tried to find the right words, but nothing came to mind that wouldn't offend… this particular Overlord.
He was… dressed in an unusually gothic style for Silence. A dark blue frock coat with long tails, adorned with dark, translucent frills along the edges. The coat was left unbuttoned, revealing a dark vest full of intricate patterns resembling crow feathers, dark trousers in a similar style, and matching shoes. But what stood out the most were the blue roses on the left shoulder of the coat, emitting a faint glow.
"Oh," Zephyr's voice grew calmer, and his bright blue glowing eyes within the dark sockets of his pale face scrutinized what Carmila had pointed out. "Lost a bet to Asmodeus, so now I'm forced to wear this outfit his servants crafted for a while," Zephyr shrugged, to which Carmila simply nodded.
Asmodeus? No, Carmine had heard that the Lord of Silence was acquainted with the Morningstar household, but to know the Sin of Lust himself? Carmila didn't understand how this strange system worked, but... weren't the Sins the Kings and Queens of Hell? How did an entire Sin end up in the Morningstars' personal residence? Shouldn't they be...?
Maybe it was some Overlord or demon? Carmila shook her head gently, brushing away the unnecessary thoughts and returning her expression to its usual impassive state.
"Thank you for clarifying, Lord Zephyr," Carmila nodded as Silence waved off her words, continuing to follow him down the well-kept and clean alley. "But... I must ask another question to satisfy my curiosity." Carmila tried to mimic the speech style of Zestial, who was... supposedly a good friend of Silence. Zephyr turned his head toward her again, walking on her left side. "Please remind me... Why do you need me... here?" Carmila gestured with her snow-white hand to the surrounding street, where Sinners were just beginning to emerge, as it was six in the morning.
Though, Carmila had already grown accustomed to the peculiar reputation of the Overlord, where Sinners either scattered or hid in advance... or tried to blend in with the surroundings. Not that it bothered Carmila much, but even for her, a "mid-tier" Overlord, this rule already applied, especially since she was under the "patronage" of two "Ruling Overlords"...
The Lord of Silence seemed to ignore her question, though he definitely heard it—no matter how strange that feeling was for Carmila, who was somehow sure that this indifferent behavior of the almost bouncing Overlord definitely meant he was listening.
"Why can't one friend invite another over for a visit?" Zephyr shrugged, shaking his head, a dark smile etched onto his white porcelain face, as if "drawn" on a mask, if not engraved. The dark sockets of his eyes, with their light blue stars, looked at Carmila, causing the Overlord of Weapons to suppress a shiver.
"...We've never invited each other over for a 'visit' before," Carmila said cautiously, trying to keep pace with Zephyr, subtly glancing at his behavior, which remained unchanged. He seemed to pay no attention to the tone of her voice. "Don't take this as rudeness, but... it's hard for me to believe that the Lord of Silence, known for his reclusiveness and detachment from general politics... would simply invite a mere Overlord over for a casual visit."
Carmila's voice was stern, devoid of unnecessary emotion, fear, or reverence. She remembered well the many pieces of advice Zestial had given her about Zephyr's communication style, which surprisingly required nothing more than simple respect as an equal from "lesser" Overlords.
The fact that she "owed" Zephyr, that he had "fulfilled her wish," didn't make Carmila any more confident in the purity of the Lord of Silence's intentions.
Carmila couldn't verify for sure, only trust in Zephyr's honesty and his word... Just like Zestial's, as the Spider had assured her that Zephyr had never once deceived or twisted his promises. But... Carmila had learned the fate of her children, her family, both as a clan and personally.
Carmila didn't know how to process the rather... calm reaction of her two eldest daughters to the fact that their mother had not only ended up in Hell but had also "hired" some "demon" who could contact them on Earth...
"The important thing is that you're alright, Mother." That was what both her daughters had said in one way or another... Names Carmila was afraid to even think about near Zephyr, given the stories about how he might somehow know them too...
Carmila had deliberately used different names, ones used "for work." "Clara" and "Odette" had responded to her, and Carmila had been able to talk to them when Zephyr "called them," and they...
God, she hoped they didn't wish to come to her, to this pit, this cesspool. Carmila knew her daughters, knew their attachment to her, their desire to protect even her—a trait they had inherited from their mother... Carmine wished for her daughters to reach Heaven, not eternal torment, which she had desperately tried to describe back then, hoping against hope that she was speaking to her real daughters and not some illusion conjured by Zephyr.
"Then, let's just say Silence wanted to make a real friend!" Zephyr clapped his hands, then loudly tapped the tip of his cane against the pavement before pointing it toward a small building. "I suggest we continue our friendly stroll, where we amiably stay silent and ignore each other," Zephyr nodded, making Carmila bite her lip, though no rebuttal could escape the young Overlord's mouth.
Carmila had tried to strike up a conversation earlier, but... to no avail.
Carmila Carmine could at least admit to herself, in her thoughts, that she was afraid of this Overlord. Truly afraid, like a small child afraid of a soldier or a frightening man.
Carmila had dealt with Alastor, the Radio Demon, spoken with that strange Sinner obsessed with violence... Even that "strongest" Overlord didn't instill as much fear in her as Zephyr, the Demon of Silence.
Alastor or Zestial. Carmila knew what to expect from each. Mask upon mask, both sadists to some degree, both with some form of personality distortion, both incredibly powerful, rightfully occupying the top of the food chain in the Damned City. The first condescendingly allowed her to act, the second took her under his wing, allowing her to "stand beside them," with unspoken motives.
Carmila had worked with this type of person before. She had overcome similar challenges many times in her life, and Carmine was confident that sooner or later, she would become a real threat even to Zestial, a clearly more experienced Overlord.
But Zephyr...
Carmila glanced again at this Sinner, who lazily turned his head, observing the empty, well-kept streets, searching for something or nodding at nothing before slightly turning his head to continue doing whatever it was he was doing again.
"An enigma. An unknown," Carmila voiced her long-standing thoughts once more, unable to find any other words. One of the "Three Gentlemen," the "Destroyer of the Black Plague" that had swept through in the forties, alongside Zestial and Alastor...
What scared her the most was the ambiguity and uncertainty, the inability to fully grasp the strength and capabilities of this Sinner, who kept revealing more and more.
A brash newcomer who, just under fifteen years ago, had managed to stand alongside the former "Elder Overlords" who had ruled the Damned City before Alastor arrived and slaughtered them... And Zephyr had also "paid a visit" to the Deer, "terrifying" him, "nearly killing him," right after Alastor finished his massacre.
The ability, if not to travel to Earth, then at least to retrieve things from there—something Zestial and others had repeatedly told Carmila was impossible for an ordinary Sinner. Strange powers of creating matter or something similar, which was why Silence had such immense popularity, as it was truly beautiful compared to the rest of Pentagram City. A multitude of diverse servants, appearing out of nowhere, possibly created by him, possibly the "unfortunates" who had tried to disturb the Silence of Silence...
If Alastor could incorporate the screams of his victims' souls, why couldn't Zephyr do something similar with the souls of his own victims? That's what almost every Sinner Carmila had questioned thought, those who didn't try to dodge or lie, repeating roughly the same thing.
"And that's not even mentioning the undefined power described as some kind of energy or magic that struck down the fascists in the forties," Carmila pursed her lips, surveying... a vast white marble hall, designed in the Greek style.
Carmila blinked, losing her train of thought, distinctly remembering how they had entered a small museum-like building... only to find themselves in a space nearly fifty, if not more, meters high. Everything was white, the marble floor reflecting their figures as they passed towering, bulky white Greek columns forming an archway leading to a giant statue, as tall as the ceiling, of a man in a toga.
"The hall is empty for now, but soon it will house something like historical exhibits, so that Sinners..." Zephyr's face twisted, and his hands gripped the top of his cane. "Can become enlightened and educated," he exhaled, nodding to Carmila, who instinctively nodded back.
"Is this the influence of the Princess of Hell?" Carmila wondered, trying to ignore the loud echoes of their footsteps...
Wait, the echoes disappeared after a few minutes of walking.
Carmila shook her head, observing how lazily Zephyr examined the room, almost indifferently, as it seemed to her, muttering something under his breath that even Carmila's enhanced hearing struggled to catch.
This was strange for her, as she already had about five thousand souls under her command, which, as Zestial had said, was still a modest number. All these souls had made deals with her, trading their souls for protection, patronage, or peace... But Silence, standing beside her, didn't own a single soul, if the rumors were to be believed.
Sinners claimed that his "servants" were other Sinners who had sold their souls to Silence. Others said that Silence was even more terrifying than Alastor, and that all the "captured" souls, which never returned after threatening Silence, had become his servants through extremely cruel means...
"...a lot of unsubstantiated claims, the inability to verify them, and the general secrecy of the Overlord himself..." Carmila continued to ponder, lazily examining the massive columns, the statue, and the white rock that seemed to be made of marble as well.
Not to mention the fact that the daughter of Lucifer herself...
"Allow me a bold question, Mrs. Carmine," Silence's voice pulled Carmila out of her thoughts. He was glancing at her, oddly fixated on the statue at whose base they now stood. Carmila felt her cheek twitch.
"As if I have a choice..." a quick thought crossed her mind, to which Zephyr, as if hearing her, tilted his head, turning toward her. Though, Carmila was starting to feel a bit of paranoia that he might somehow be able to read her thoughts.
"Of course, Lord Zephyr," Carmila nodded, staring just as intently at the Lord of Silence, who was almost swaying on his feet, his posture so relaxed.
"Ah, could you tell me, Mrs. Carmine..." Zephyr rubbed his chin, speaking in such a strange tone... Carmila was already starting to dislike this... "Have you had sex since you ended up here?" Zephyr abruptly changed his tone, staring directly at Carmine.
To be continued
patreon.com/Kotvslape