Hell's Fury



  Hell’s Fury

  Shannon Tripp

  Copyright 2012 Shannon Tripp

  This book is a work of fiction

  The characters are productions

  of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Hell’s Fury

  “You need what?” The words popped out of Jasmine’s mouth before she could stop them. Her blue eyes wide, she stared at her boss hoping he was joking.

  “I need you.” Charles stared back at her; not understanding what was wrong. He needed her to finish his experiment. Why was she being so difficult? “The machine is ready and you’re the only one who can run it.”

  Understanding filled Jasmine’s eyes as she realized Charles needed her for his science.

  She sighed as she pushed her chair away from her desk and rolled it over to the door behind her. This was no place for a Fury to be. If she could find a way home without this machine, she’d use it, but Charles was brilliant. If anyone could get her home, it would be the scientist. Too bad he insisted on trial runs. Nothing he does can hurt me, but it’s not like I can tell him I’m a Fury from Hell. If the machine was ready, then Charles wouldn’t want to run it the full spectrum. She‘d have to do something to pique his curiosity. She pushed the button next to the door and waited for it to swoosh open, before rising from her chair. She kicked it back toward her desk and entered the next room.

  Snarling at the whole situation, she shoved her arms through the two holes in the surface of the machine. Wires wrapped around her wrists and elbows. She let her mind drift and reach for the magic filling the hole behind her heart. Closing her eyes, she felt currents of energy roar down her arms and empty into the machine.

  If it wasn’t for that idiot shoving me into a wall, I wouldn’t have missed my portal home and I wouldn’t now be pretending to be human. Someday, she promised herself, revenge will be sweet.

  The wires loosened and the machine clicked on and began humming. Time for a little twist, she thought. She knew if she opened her eyes she would see reds and yellows, greens and blues swirling beneath the clear surface. She waited for the machine to start clicking before shaking the wires off and removing her arms from the holes. As her arms cleared the holes, she sent a burst of energy into the heart of the machine. That should do it.

  Sighing in relief, she reached for the door, ready to return to her pretend job. She had her hand on the knob when the speaker beside her head crackled to life.

  “Wait a minute, Jasmine. Something’s off with the machine.”

  Jasmine grinned as she turned back to see the colors swirl into a tight ball. “What do you mean ‘off’? Do you want me to start shutting it down?”

  “No. No, I’ve never seen it do this before. Just back away and let it run a bit.”

  “Easy for you to say,” she muttered under her breath, but she flattened her back against the door hoping she was far enough away from the machine so she wouldn’t get sucked in prematurely. She didn’t know what Charles intended it to do, but she was sure it wasn’t supposed to be a transporter. She almost felt sorry usurping Charles’ machine like this, but she really wanted to go home. Besides, to Charles, she was just a power source. He was the brain.

  “What’s it doing now?” The speaker crackled again and Jasmine jumped.

  “Can’t you see it?” Jasmine wasn’t sure she could describe what the machine was doing.

  “The camera is just showing static and the screen just tells me that the numbers are climbing high. This is so frustrating. It’s not supposed to do this.”

  “Just what is it suppose to do?”

  Charles continued muttering about the machine, ignoring her. “Maybe if I tweak this, add a few more … and maybe a little…There, it‘s stable.”

  Jasmine watched the machine, half listening to Charles’ rambling.

  “Jasmine? What’s it doing?”

  She hadn’t taken her eyes off the machine but she still couldn’t describe its activity. She’d have to try or Charles would shut the thing off. “I don’t know. It’s glowing, with a ball of color hanging about ten inches above it. The wires are all glowing and the box is rotating.”

  “Rotating?” Charles interrupted her. “Clockwise?”

  “Counter. It’s started to hum, almost a high pitched whistle. Maybe I should get out of here.”

  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. She reached for the doorknob again, feeling her heart slam against her rib cage. Sweat trickled down her neck and her hands shook. She closed her fingers around the knob only to have them slip off. She reached out again, missing the ball of light drifting toward her.

  “Jasmine? The numbers are moving. Get out of there.” Charles’ panicked voice barely registered over her thumping heart.

  She felt triumph flood through her as her fingers managed to turn the knob. She’d started to pull the door toward her when she was swamped by colors; reds, greens, blues, yellows and colors she had no name for. A screamed ripped from her throat as she was drawn to the machine. Holding her hands out in front of her in protest, she screamed again as the holes in the machine grew.

  The colors overwhelmed her and as darkness descended, the last thing she heard was the crackle of the speaker. “Jasmine? Jasmine!”

  * * *

  Jasmine woke slowly. Aching and tiredness argued against the need pressing on her bladder. Deciding her body wasn’t going to leave her alone, she rolled over, setting off a new set of pain. Sitting up didn’t improve her situation any, so she let her head hit the pillow again, sending up a cloud of green into the air.

  Coughing and choking, Jasmine curled on her side. Holding her breath wasn’t working, so she heaved her body up. She swayed on her hands and knees, afraid to wipe the tears from her eyes in case she lost her balance.

  Sounds drifted to her ears, distorted. She strained, trying to make sense of them. A hand landed on the small of her back, collapsing her arms and legs. She landed with a thud and a swirl of red and blue clouds. Deciding moving was a bad idea she closed her eyes and let darkness take her.

  * * *

  “Are ye awake, lass?”

  Jasmine blinked her eyes open. Something was missing. Her mind seemed empty.

  “Give it a minute. They’ll come back. Some times the transfer messes up memories.

  “That’ll be a trick and a …” Memories slammed into her. She hissed in pain as they knocked her off her bed. She landed in a heap on the floor as the memories washed over her: a flash of a woman sobbing and a man walking away. Then the memory morphed into the same woman with an evil grin plaster across her face as the man writhed in agony at her feet. The man and woman vanished and a view of the street approached. She was walking toward a glowing portal hanging in mid-air when something hit her side. She flew across the street, back and head colliding with a building. The next memory was Charles leaning over her; asking if she was alright.

  “I see the memories are back. Tell me girl, did you at least finish your mission?”

  She nodded. Yes the woman had been more than satisfied.

  “Good. Dear old dad is waiting.” He picked her up and carried her over to the door. She shrieked in surprise and wiggled, trying to loosen his grip, but caught sight of her furry feet. She felt her mouth gaped as they approached the door. The portal slide sideways and he stepped through. Setting her down he said, “Welcome home, Fury Jasmine. Ye’d better get going.” He stepped back inside the room and the door swished shut.

  Jasmine sat back and took stock of what she knew. She had finally returned home but she no longer wore the costume she was used to. She’d had hands for so long that she kind of missed them, but this constant costume change was part of the job. She glanced down the hallway and noticed that all the doo
rknobs were out of reach. So, this time I’m something short and furry and looking at my feet I’m guessing it’s a cat.

  With that conflict out of her mind, she turned back to the hallway. The thought crossed her mind that this hallway looked like a nightmare--never-ending doors lining both sides and no door knob in sight. She stepped forward, counting the doors as she passed. All she had was time to kill.

  She stared straight ahead, knowing there was no corner in this never ending corridor. She stopped in front of door one hundred, sat back and curled her tail around her feet.

  “Fury, come.”

  The corridor swirled, bent and twisted around her, spitting her out at the feet of her father.

  “Report.” He turned on his heel, swirling his cape around his shoulders.

  Jasmine pushed away from the floor and sat with her tail wrapped around her feet again. “Success, Father, two souls, as promised.” She lifted her arm, paw-pads up and concentrated. Magic flowed down her arm and pooled between her claws. Two balls formed, one red and the other yellow. When they were slightly bigger than marbles, she released them and they rolled across the floor.

  She watched him lean down and scooped them off the floor. Without looking, he shoved them in his pants pocket. He turned again and headed back across the floor, cape swirling around his ankles as he paced.

  A smile curled on her face as she watched him brush Soul Crumbs from his fingers, leaving streaks of yellow and red on his dress shirt. Father is dressed to kill tonight. I hope he has fun.

  “At least you’re ready for your next assignment. Here are the details.” He snapped his fingers and an index card appeared in a puff of smoke. Jasmine could never figure out how he could summon stuff that way without it bursting into flames.

  He flicked it and the card sailed through the air to land at her feet, face up. She leaned down to read the cramped handwriting. There were four words scrawled across the card: Leona Baxtin No Where Oregon.

  She glanced back up at her father and opened her mouth. Before she could ask any questions, her father flicked his fingers again and the room spun crazily. She gasped and splayed her legs, trying to keep her balance. She lurched into a wall and banged her head against one of the endless doors before the world stopped spinning.

  Fighting off her need to leave a hairball in her father’s hallway, she hurried passed the endless doors until she came to a bright pink one. Ramming her shoulder into it, she managed to pop it open. She eeled through the opening and looked around her bedroom. Not knowing when her father would decide she should start her new assignment, she quickly readied herself. She slipped a collar on that had a tag that read Fury dangling from it. The next part was tricky for her because she had to see what she was doing. She ran across her bedroom and plopped in front of her full length mirror.

  Oh, a Siamese, she thought absently as she used her paw to press the different gems adorning her collar. Each one sucked a little of her magic out of her, but each was necessary for her assignment. She touched the ruby, feeling it store the magic need to activate the other gems. Then she moved on to the emerald. That one was a locator spell. She’d trigger that one as soon as she reached this No Where place. The next she filled was a diamond, the ‘see truly’ gem. It showed her who and what was really around her. Unnecessary if it's someone from this level of hell, they're easy to spot without the gem. Too bad it’s a demerit if you interfere with another demon’s mission. Sapphire was next and that one allowed her to understand human speech. The final gem, a citrine, caught the soft glowing of the four already charged gems and multiplied it, casting light into the darkened room. This gem was the most important. It allowed her to hold a soul. This time it was going to hold the soul of whoever scorned Leona Baxtin. And maybe Leona’s, too. It wouldn’t be the first time she scored a two for one deal. She felt a grin stretch across her face as her father’s magic swirled around her, pulling her into darkness.

  * * *

  Jasmine opened her eyes to a grey sky. She was sprawled on her back, the fur on her legs waving in the cold breeze. She sneezed and rolled to her stomach, staring in dismay at the white caps breaking on the sand inches from her nose.

  “The beach? Really?” she aimed the words at the sand under her feet but she tossed them at her father.

  “At least you didn’t end up in the water,” a voice hissed behind her.

  Arching her back and spinning on her back leg, she faced this new and unexpected threat.

  A small brown and white cat with dark ears and tail flinched outside of striking range. Crouching in the damp sand, the new comer watched Jasmine, waiting for the attack.

  “Who are you?” Jasmine hissed back.

  “I’m who you’re replacing. Missy calls me ‘Furry.’” The small cat crouched lower on the sand, scrapping her belly and flicking her tail nervously.

  “‘Furry,’ huh? Well, let’s go see where I’m going to be staying, and then you can go to your safe house, or wherever.”

  Furry jumped to her feet and sped across the sand, over the dunes and through the beach grass before Jasmine had even climbed to her feet. Thinking it was going to be a long assignment, Jasmine trudge through the sand after the disappearing Furry.

  * * *

  The little blue house, surrounded by two and three story buildings, seemed to huddle in the middle of the street. The peeling paint and the cracked, crooked windows did not fill Jasmine with anything except dread. Something was off here. She reached up and touched the emerald. A map sprang up with a bright pink dot hovering over the hovel. She closed her eyes and spun in a circle, hoping the ramshackle house wasn’t the one she’d be living in for the foreseeable future. It’s got to be a joke or an illusion. She stopped and cautiously opened her eyes. The peeling paint and cracked windows had not magically changed and she was still standing in the weed choked front yard.

  “This is where Leona lives?” Jasmine winced at how high her voice was and how it cracked at the end. She didn’t know what was worse. That her assignment brought her to this little backwards town or that her assignment meant she’d have to stay in a place like that.

  “We didn’t always live here. This was all Missy could afford after He came into our lives.”

  For the first time ever, Jasmine felt something other than eagerness about her revenge job. A fury to match her title filled her from the tips of her furry ears to the end of her tail. Before she could question the little cat, a screen door banged open and a young woman in baggy clothes stepped into the front yard.

  “Furry? Little Furry? Where are you? Dinner time.”

  “That’s Missy,” Furry hissed as she slipped out of the yard.

  Jasmine, watching the little cat slip away, missed Leona’s approach. Hands slipped around her middle and her feet left the ground. She found herself crushed against Leona’s chest as the woman hugged her.

  “There you are, Furry. Are you ready to come in?” Then to Jasmine’s disgust, the woman kissed her on the side of the face. Laughter trilled out as Leona saw Jasmine’s look. She turned back to the front door and carried the cat inside.

  Now that she was inside and had apparently passed the inspection stage, now all Jasmine had to do was figure out what happened to Leona. But more importantly, she thought as her stomach rumbled, what’s for dinner?

  * * *

  Early the next morning, they were roused from bed by loud, angry knocking on the front door. Afraid it would fall off its hinges, Jasmine scurried to the living room. Skidding to a stop behind the door, she stared up in dismay at the door knob hanging over her head. She’d forgotten she was a cat.

  “I’m coming. Hold your horses and please stop banging on the door.” Leona shouted from the bedroom.

  Jasmine scampered away from door as the knocking increased. Alarm shot through her when the wood bent inward with the force of the blows. She slipped under the couch holding the windowed wall up and poked her head through a hole in the ruffle along the bottom.
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br />   Leona crossed the room with her arm outstretched, ready to grasp the knob and swing the door open. Jasmine hissed when Leona’s fingers closed on the knob. Her tail fluffed out and her ears flattened. Something was wrong on the other side of that door.

  The door swung open and Leona confronted the man on her doorstep. She blocked the entrance, hands on her hips and her head tilted up. “I don’t have your money, yet. I’ll get it tomorrow.”

  Jasmine was impressed. This was no wilting flower. Whoever hurt her was going to get what he deserved.

  “That won’t work, Leona. The money is due, now.”

  “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. But that doesn’t change anything.”

  “Then hand over the money or hand over your knee caps.”

  Jasmine inched closer, trying to see who was standing in the doorway. She glanced up at Leona’s laughter as she slipped between the woman’s legs. She moved her gaze from Leona to … Jefftik?

  Jasmine gaped at the red spiraling horns sticking out of a mess of burnt-orange colored hair. He was built like a building, straight and wide. He favored Hawaiian shirts and this week’s disaster was missing a few buttons.

  She blinked and he was a normal human. His fur covered legs were replaced with denim and his horns had disappeared.

  “That is so 1920’s Jeff.” Leona laughed. “Your money or your kneecaps,” she mocked.

  “Leona,” Jeff growled. “This is no laughing matter. You know what happened to the last person to ignore a due date.”

  “I know. I know. But that still doesn’t change a thing. I don’t get paid until tomorrow, so you can’t get paid until tomorrow.” Leona threw her hands up in disgust and turned away from the door.

  Jeff took that as an invitation and ducking his head, he stepped through the door. “Haven’t you got anything to placate the boss?”

  “Other than Furry? No.”

  Jasmine froze when she felt eyes on her. She looked up into Jeff’s startled face. “Fury Jasmine?” he whispered at her.

  Jasmine blinked at him. “Meow.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  Jasmine watched the color drain from his face and imagined she read the thoughts behind his eyes. “Meow.” She stared at him, unblinking and unmoving.