text: "How long have we been slogging through this?" Bill asked, kicking the corpse off his sword. "It feels like we've been fighting and walking for days."
  
  Adriel laughed. "Time flows differently in Hell. It only seems longer."
  
  "Longer?"
  
  "It's only been about an hour since you fell into Hell," Adriel answered.
  
  "No it hasn't," Cynthia said, stepping over the corpses of dead Lemures from their latest fray. "We've been walking for at least a day."
  
  "Then why aren't you tired?"
  
  Bill blinked. He looked back at the terrain they crossed. The depression they had met Adriel lay in a pile of jagged rocks that were only a smudge on the horizon, barely visible. It would take at least a day to cross that going straight, and the terrain was dotted with crevasses and cracks that had forced the trio to detour around them.
  
  "I barely feel like I've broken a sweat."
  
  "Because you've only been active for an hour. Even if it seems longer and you've walked a greater distance then you could in an hour in the mortal world."
  
  "That doesn't make any sense," Cynthia spluttered. "Even if time moved slower, that doesn't change the effort we've been exerting."
  
  "We are beyond the temporal world here," Adriel answered. "And while you two are here physically, you are still subject to some of these rules. You do not eat in Hell, you do not get tired in Hell, you only exist in Hell. But for you, things are different, your bodies are still tied to the Mortal world, still subject to those requirements, so your bodies are metabolizing in synchronicity with that world. And be thankful."
  
  "Why?" Cynthia muttered, eyeing her with suspicious. She still didn't trust Adriel fully. But Bill felt it in his heart that Adriel was being truthful. The Fallen Angel had helped Cynthia see past her jealousy and accept Bill's relationship with Juanita, Rochelle, and Hikaru. "Why should we be thankful?"
  
  "There is no food in Hell. Or water. Eventually, you two will die."
  
  Bill reached out and pulled Cynthia to him, a chill flooding him despite the scorching wind. It was comforting feeling her next to him, and he drew strength from her love as she leaned her head against his shoulder.
  
  "We can reach this... Hall of Virtue before then?"
  
  "Oh, yes," Adriel nodded. "But first we have to cross the River Phlegethon."
  
  "That doesn't sound pleasant," he muttered. "It's from mythology, right?"
  
  "A river of boiling blood filled with those who acted brutally to their fellow man," Adriel said sadly. "In that churning mass, their humanity is boiled away until only evil is left. The pain puts them in such a frenzy they continually hurt each other and any who stray too close to the banks. It's also where Lemures are reborn."
  
  "And how are we crossing it?" Cynthia asked. "Are there bridges?"
  
  "No. Come on, we should get going."
  
  Adriel walked away, looking vulnerable and bedraggled, her left wing horribly twisted and broken from when she had stopped Bill and Cynthia's fall. Bill gave Cynthia's shoulder a squeeze, and they trudged after the Fallen Angel.
  
  The searing rocks gave way to a blasted plain empty save for vents that poured yellow fumes into the air. The wind died to a calm, and silence crept over Hell. Figures stumbled across the plain, weighed down by piles of black iron that left them bent and doubled over. Their mouths opened as if they were speaking, but Bill could hear none of their words. One, a woman — her hair scraggly, white strands — stumbled in front of them, her eyes pleading, and her lips moving in supplication.
  
  "Liars," Adriel answered his unasked question. "Weighed down by all the falsehoods they uttered in life, their voices muted so none shall ever have to listen to their treacherous tongues again."
  
  "What is she asking for?"
  
  "For you to take her burden," Adriel sighed. "If you could hear her speak, she'd spin you a tale as believable as a reflection in the mirror. It would be full of truths, but none would be hers. They're harmless, just walk around them."
  
  "How horrible," Cynthia muttered.
  
  "It's Hell. If you don't toe Heaven's line, then they cast you down here to suffer."
  
  It seemed to take hours to cross the Plain, and a slight thirst began creeping into Bill's throat. Ahead, a red fog grew on the horizon, and the sound of a mighty river roared like a pounding heart, mixed with cries of pain and rage. A coppery scent was thick in the air as the damp fog misted around them, making Bill's skin crawl.
  
  The plain ended abruptly at a cliff. The River Phlegethon boiled and churned below. Figures writhed in its current, screaming in anger and agony. The river was dotted with rapids and cataracts, frothing the blood to pink foam and battering the bodies of those suffering against jagged, black rocks. The chasm was as wide as the Grand Canyon, if not wider.
  
  "How are we crossing that?" Bill gaped.
  
  "Cynthia's illusions."
  
  "Am I supposed to imagine a bridge across that?" she demanded. "I don't have the power for that."
  
  "No. Imagine something that could carry us."
  
  "But my illusions aren't real. Our bodies just pass through them! This is stupid! I knew we shouldn't trust you. You just want us to fall down into that river!"
  
  "Why would I lead you all this way to trick you into the River Phlegethon?" Adriel asked, a hurt look on her innocent face.
  
  "Because you're a Demon!"
  
  Adriel flinched, her gentle eyes tearing up. "I'm a Fallen Angel. Not some foul Demon. Believe me, your illusion can carry us if you have faith!"
  
  "No it can't! My illusion of Sophia passed right through Bill!"
  
  "But she did cut down the Lemures," he pointed out. "So it can affect things."
  
  "Well, yeah," she faltered. "But... that's because Sophia's made of love. And that's the bane of Demons."
  
  "So why can't your love carry us across?" Bill asked, reaching out to cup her face. "What if you believed that your illusion could do that."
  
  "What if it can't?"
  
  "I believe in you. This is what Adriel means, right?"
  
  "Yes," the Fallen Angel answered. "Your power can be harnessed like this. It is a difficult skill to master, and I fear we do not have the time for you to learn how."
  
  "If there's not time, then how am I going to do it?"
  
  "If you were desperate enough, your well-honed, mortal survival instinct should force you to figure it out."
  
  "Desperate?" Cynthia glanced around. "Well, I'm not feeling that."
  
  "Dagon!" Adriel shouted. "Dagon! Dagon!'
  
  BOOM!
  
  "What did you just do!" Cynthia shrieked.
  
  "I caught his attention. He heard his name spoken thrice."
  
  "You bitch!" Cynthia hissed. "Why? You've killed us all."
  
  BOOM!
  
  "Imagine something that can carry us over. Anything. The human's capacity for fantasy and delusion knows no bounds."
  
  BOOM!
  
  Bill's heart hammered as Cynthia let out a moan, her blue eyes wide and rolling — panic was overtaking her. Her breath quickened, coming in ragged pants. I have to do something! He grabbed her shoulders and kissed her on the lips, putting all his love for her into the kiss.
  
  Feel how much I believe in you, Cynthia!
  
  Her hands grabbed his shoulders, her fingernails biting into his flesh. He ignored the pain and kept feeding her his love and faith. He trusted her. He knew she could do this. He relaxed his brain, letting himself get lost in the moment, lost in her kiss, lost in his fantasy.
  
  BOOM!
  
  Bill daydreamed...
  
  Nothing happened.
  
  Cynthia broke away, her chest heaving, but no longer with panic. "Thank you," she whispered.
  
  He nodded, dumbfounded. Why didn't I daydream? He had been on the cusp. He felt it. He had been lost in her lips and the feel of her nubile body. It had been just like when he had spanked Rochelle today. He should have become lost in his head, entering his fantasy, accessing his power.
  
  Is it Hell? Does this place have something to do with it?
  
  He couldn't worry about that now; Cynthia needed his help. She walked to the edge, concentrating. He took her hand, giving her a gentle squeeze, sending her all his positive feelings. He couldn't doubt her. She couldn't doubt herself.
  
  BOOM!
  
  His skin crawled and itched.
  
  Light gathered in front of her, weaving together in a rectangle about four feet by ten. The light rippled and undulated, and then there was a Persian rug, an intricate pattern of gold, crimson, and blue lines wrapped about each other and fringed by gold tassels.
  
  BOOM!
  
  "A flying carpet," Bill laughed. "Brilliant." He gave her hand a squeeze and, with complete faith in her, stepped onto it.
  
  "Bill!" she gasped.
  
  His foot touched the illusion, and the carpet dimpled beneath him, wavering. He fought to keep his balance, planting his second foot on it in a wide stance. It was like standing on a waterbed. The carpet kept undulating with every slight movement he made, forcing him to correct his balance which created more ripples.
  
  "It works," she sighed.
  
  "I never doubted you," Bill smiled and held his hands out.
  
  She took it, stepping out to join him. "You should sit down. It's probably safer."
  
  Bill sat down then pulled her down onto his lap, making room for Adriel. The Fallen Angel stepped onto the carpet, unaffected by its undulations, and sat down with grace.
  
  BOOM!
  
  "This is eating through my energy fast," Cynthia said, the carpet moving slowly away from the cliff.
  
  Her warm ass was on his cock, and he couldn't help hardening as she shifted with the carpet's wavy motions. He kissed her neck, licking up to her ear, and said, "I think I know how to solve that problem."
  
  She gave a little giggle. "Do you?"
  
  "Mmm. Can't you feel how strong I believe in my solution?"
  
  She shifted her weight, scooting back into him and his cock popped between her thighs and rubbed along the length of her damp pussy. "You do seem to feel pretty strongly about it."
  
  "I love you, Cynthia."
  
  "You better," she moaned, rising up, her hand grasping his cock, then sinking on his girth, "because we're going to need all your love to get across this pit."
  
  Bill could only groan as her wonderfully hot pussy engulfed his entire dick. She was so tight and wet, her pussy squeezing and relaxing about his girth. His hands slid up her side, grasping her small breasts and finding her delightful nipples.
  
  "Oh, Bill," she gasped, rising her hips up and sinking back down. "Mmm, play with my nipples."
  
  He gently rolled her nubs, not pinching or pulling like he would with Rochelle, but with all the tenderness and love he could. Her back arched as she rose up again, her pussy massaging his cock. Every inch of her tunnel that slid up him increased the boil in his balls. Her hips added a wiggle when she reached the pinnacle, stirring his cock around inside her.
  
  "Oh, fuck, that's good," he groaned. "Keep doing that."
  
  "You like that?"
  
  "I love it!" He sucked her earlobe into his mouth. "I love you."
  
  She came down, then rose up faster. "Yes, yes! I love you, too! Make love to me, Bill! Fill me up with your love!"
  
  "I live to please you."
  
  "Me and those other women?"
  
  "Yes! That's all I want is for the four of you to be happy!"
  
  "Oh, yes! Make me happy, Bill! Stir my little pussy up! I'm gonna cum on your cock!"
  
  She rose faster, silk sliding around his cock. It was getting so hard to think of anything but the sensations in the tip of his cock. Her head tossed back, blonde hair brushing his cheek, and she let out a loud shout. Her pussy tightened about his dick, clenching and unclenching, massaging his cock, trying to draw his cum out of his balls.
  
  "That's it!" Bill hissed. "Cum for me! I love it!"
  
  "Me, too!" she shrieked. "Oh, Bill! I need your cum! Flood me! Give me every drop of your love!"
  
  His balls ached, his body tensed, so close to cumming. He only needed a few more strokes of her pussy. Up and down she moved, her pussy convulsing and relaxing about his cock. Up she rose, his eyes squeezing shut as another wave of pleasure surged through him. Down she fell, his balls erupting his love thick into her depths. One, two, three hot blasts flooding her pussy.
  
  "Oh, Cynthia," he groaned.
  
  "We're gonna make it," she purred.
  
  "Make it?"
  
  "The carpet," she smiled, leaning against him. "We're gonna cross the canyon."
  
  "Right," Bill smiled. "I forgot."
  
  "How could you forget?" she giggled.
  
  "Well, you try having a cock, the most sensitive and demanding part of your body —"
  
  "So my clitoris?"
  
  "Yeah, imagine your clit buried in the warmest, tightest, wettest, softest, most wonderful place in the entire universe, totally engulfed by love, and I bet you'd forget such petty details as the mortal danger we're fleeing or how we're doing it."
  
  She giggled, turned her head, and they kissed over her shoulder.
  
  "There is the Hall," Adriel said.
  
  Bill jumped. He had forgotten the Fallen Angel was with them.
  
  Her arm pointed to the far shore where a mountain rose up, a cone of black on the dark horizon. At its pinnacle shone a white light. It was second most beautiful thing Bill had seen in Hell. The first was in his arms.
  
  "We're going home," he whispered into Cynthia's ear.
  
  "We just have to defeat the guardian," Adriel added. "Cerberus."