Almost everything important in my life started with an L, Ghost began. Love, lust, Leila--I've been told that even Judith was once called Leslie. For now, I'll tell you about the L who was almost my friend.
-- -- -- --
"Say hello to the new girl, everyone," Judith told the gathered figures. "Her name's Ghost."
Ghost stumbled to one knee, dizzy from shock as much as from teleportation. She opened her human eyes to improve her depth perception, but she succeeded only in fragmenting her vision, and she was forced to rely on the new eye she was so far incapable of closing.
The air here was warmer, but not by much. The sky was the same as before, save for a sort of hole--blacker than the black--from which liquid endlessly fell. It splashed into a lake, far to her left, which led into a river that trailed off out of sight. At the edges of the spray, mushrooms grew as tall as a man.
"Fresh meat, eh?" someone said. The speaker advanced towards Ghost, who recoiled to see that two of her three eyes were sewn shut with thread. "Oh, don't look at me like that," the stranger continued. "I look much more human than you do."
Later, Ghost was to observe that the stranger looked remarkably like a demonic version of a storybook princess--long hair, luscious lips, that tiny nose Disney had probably trademarked . . . At the moment, however, she was still monosyllabic.
What is this thing?
"I'm one of Judith's demons, and proud of it." She gave Ghost a very human smile. "And yes, I know what you're thinking, because you're broadcasting it to everyone here. I'll teach you how to muffle yourself, but first, you need to get some liquid in you--you must be starved."
Ghost wondered at the mix of terminology used, until the speaker led her to the liquid, and she knelt again to drink. "That stuff's both your food and your water," she was told. "It's raw emotion, straight from Earth--you can eat the love and the lust from it. If you live through your first battle, and Judith closes your eyes, I'm authorized to ration you a swig of purified love. Best thing you've ever tasted, I assure you."
There were many questions Ghost might have asked, ranging from
Who are we fighting?
to
How do you purify love?
The one she actually asked was much simpler.
What's your name?
"They call me Lilith, so I assume that's who I am. It's nice to meet you, Ghost."
-- -- -- --
There is little point to speaking in great detail of the days that followed. Ghost trained alongside the other tempters, preparing to fight with claws and tongues against what both Judith and Lilith called "the sinners." She mock-battled, ate, slept, and mock-battled again, the days a blur from both activity and residual shock, and Lilith was always close by with an encouraging remark.
At first, she wondered why Lilith mothered her so, but she eventually realized that Lilith mothered everyone--she had a very tender demeanor that contrasted with her regal appearance. "I'm the oldest one here," she once explained, "and Judith didn't really know what she was doing when she made me. That's why I'm the most human of us--just the third eye and the long tongue for me--but it's also why I'm so much weaker than the rest of you. I can't fight, so I'm something of a mediator here."
How'd you wind up here, anyways?
Ghost had asked.
"After twenty-five years," Lilith had replied, "I can't even remember for sure. Not that I can say I mind--it's guilt that makes people into lesser demons, though it's greater demons who bind them to this world. Whatever I did, it must have been horrible, and I'm happy to atone for it under Judith. She's special, you know."
What do you mean?
"Only the worst of the worst become greater demons. Belial murdered dozens of people, Azazel raped and tortured little boys . . . I don't know how Judith wound up in this place, but she's got a sense of honor you don't often see here, and she has a decent chance of making this a proper Hell. Learn to fight, and you'll be able to help her make bad people pay."
But as the weeks passed, it became clear that Ghost couldn't fight well--or at all. When performing routines, she was perfectly coordinated, but she couldn't improvise in response to an attack.
Her talents, she found, lay elsewhere.
