Page 12 of Satan's Son

“Why can’t I use yours?”

Ethan’s eyes snapped open, and he shook his head. “I’m Satan’s son. I don’t need a key to get back into Hell. I can pass through the worlds without it.”

“Well, aren’t we lucky, Mr. I-don’t-need-a-key!” I walked past him and sat down on a bench. “Looks like I am stuck here then.”

“No, looks like you have, yet again, made more work for me.” Ethan glared at me. “I really dislike you.”

“Care factor zero.” I yawned and covered my mouth.

“You know,” he pointed a finger at me, “you’re making my life difficult.”

“How?”

“If you had been at home when your fa—” His mouth snapped shut, and he cut his own words off. “Don’t worry about it.”

I frowned. “Keeping something from me?”

“Shut up,” he snapped. “Stay here and I’ll go get the key. Do. Not. Move.”

“Wait, Ethan?”

“What?”

“What is Heaven like?”

He inhaled sharply and exhaled slowly. “If you do your job as a guider right, come retrial you can experience it for yourself. Now stay here.”

“You should have told me.” I crossed my arms smugly. “You knew I didn’t know the importance of the key. You are only pissed off because it’s your own mess-up.”

“I’m not an instructor!” He waved his hands in the air: “I’m Sat—”

“Satan’s son, I know.” I arched both eyebrows. “Which only makes me wonder why you’re my instructor.”

“No more questions.” He closed his eyes. “Do not move. And if you do, you will regret it.”

“Blackmail, nothing works better.” I watched him slowly fade and disappear into the night air.

I was alone sitting on a park bench. Dead. Invisible to the human eye. I jumped to my feet and began to walk up the deserted road. I’d already been sentenced to Hell, so what more could Ethan do to me?

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