Chapter Eleven: Remorseless as the Mala-Mundial

The abandoned church sat quietly under a cottony gown of snow. The storm had passed, but a light wind caught up some newly fallen snow and whirled in the air. The snow settled on the large Madonna statue outside the narthex. The Madonna had been defaced. Her newborn baby had been chipped out of her stony hands and replaced with a black sickle. And her face had been re-sculpted into the shape of a skull. A rosary of candy skulls was hung around her hooded neck.

From out of the city shadows a figure emerged. She was as white as death, with crystalline eyes that twinkled in the dark. She could not punish her father for Mateo getting caught in the crossfire, but she could focus her anger on the Doña Muertes.

Softly, she passed the defaced sign that now read “Our Lady of Refuge” and entered the narthex. Wrapping a grip rope around an icy column, Hel quickly scaled the column and leaped over a sister who was standing guard. She landed onto a window. At one time, a beautiful stained glass window adorned the entrance to the church hall. Now it was nothing but broken glass and boarding. Several fires were burning inside the main hall. The Doñas had, according to their customs, abandoned all modern conveniences. This included heating. They used a combination of firewood, mammoth oil, and ferventness to keep themselves warm in the ever-winter. This left plenty of shadows for Hel to move through.

The Doña Muertes were busy tending to their wounded sisters, who were bleeding all over the pews as they were treated with cragweed solutions to dull the pain. While Hel watched from overhead, Dr. Seguín moved among the wounded. He rolled the silver egg over their bodies while trying to stitch up gunshot wounds and remove bullets. He did not ask anyone about rebar. The tall Doña, who was Sister Diez Osos, had a bandage across her forehead. Most of the makeup had been removed from her face, revealing scarecrow eyes and haggard wrinkles.

“Dr. Seguín,”she said. The doctor turned to her, and she put a thick block of cash in his pockets. “Stay here until all my sisters are taken care of.”

Dr. Seguín said, “You know, every animal on this hellhole, including humans, has nanotech inside them. It helps the lungs not freeze in the cold and the body to absorb what little sunlight we get here. It can also help keep people alive. But it is absolutely useless if you keep getting shot!”

Sister Diez Osos stood over him. “I grant you some leeway because you are the only doctor worth a damn in San Malinche. But you say something like that to me again, and I will make sure this town is only seeing veterinarians for their gunshot wounds.”

Dr. Seguín raised his hands defensively. They were covered in blood. The sister he was working on groaned. Dr. Seguín returned to his surgery, exasperated and lucky to be alive. Sister Diez Osos left the nave and went into the sacristy. As all the sisters did, however, she stopped and kneeled before the Proverbs of Hell, which was left open on the alter underneath a view of more blasphemed religious figures, most altered with skulls, sickles, and reaper robes. The crucifix, of course, was completed removed. The shape of the cross still appeared on the stonework, though, as the stone was shaded lighter underneath where the cross had rested.

Hel hunched down on the one of the rafters and waited and watched the door to the sacristy. The door stayed shut behind Sister Diez Osos. Within an hour, Dr. Seguín had finished stitching up the rest of the sisters. The ones who were injured were passed out on cragweed. Calls for retribution had died down, and the church had become quiet as a tomb. By Hel’s count, it was the third hour before the never dawn.

Slowly, Hel climbed across the steel rafter beam and dropped down in front of the alter. She plucked the steel sickle off of the deformed Madonna figure and ducked as a flashlight scanned over her. She waited until the guard crossed to the other side of the room, then hunched down low and walked through the pews of sleeping Doña Muertes. T

The pine door of the sacristy was left untouched by the Doña Muertes. It was stained dark and covered in glyphs. Hel entered the sacristy, closing the door behind her. The leader of the Doña Muertes lay asleep on a mattress in the corner. On one side of the room stood the mannequins still covered in rotted vestments. A human skull rested on a golden dish on the vestments drawers.

Thinking of Mateo, Hel stood over the sister and raised the sickle. Sister Diez Osos woke up just in time to see Hel standing over her. She kicked Hel back and grabbed her own rifle-sickle. She lashed out at Hel, but being smaller and faster, Hel kept away from the sister’s violent swings.

“You’re Hel, the Frost Giant’s daughter, aren’t you? You may hide behind a mask, but I’d recognize those eyes anywhere.”

Hel stood back and pulled the black bandana off of her face.

Sister Diez Osos sneered lowered her sickle. “Have you come to assassinate me, daughter? Is this a final blow from the Nords? I don’t think so. They would have sent one of their Skölls. You don’t have the teeth of a Sköll. No metal claws on you, kitten.”

“I’m here because of Mateo.”

“Who is Mateo? The rancher’s kid? You must really like him to come here. Do you know that your presence here is risking a turf war between us?” Sister Diez Osos thought about it for a second, then said. “You don’t care. Santa Muerte, you’ve fallen hard for this nobody.”

“He ain’t a nobody. He’s maybe the only good person left on this planet, and I aim to keep him alive.”

The sister put down her rifle and lit some rolled up cragweed. She sat down in a chair and offered Hel one, too.

“Today’s your lucky day, kitten. I’m not going to kill you. In fact, I’m going to give you some advice. Take a seat.”

“I’ll stand.”

“I didn’t ask.”

Reluctantly, Hel sat down. A moment later, the door burst open with Doñas. Sister Diez Osos held up her hand to them. “Everything is fine in the underworld, sisters. I am having a talk with this young woman. Her name is Hel, and she is the daughter of the Frost Giant.”

“A Nord?” One of the Doñas yelled.

“Yes, and a traveler on the road to hell, so you will let her pass. For now. I will call you if necessary.”

“I don’t want anything to do with your religious crap,” Hel said when the doors shut.

“I hear that every day. And yet, our proverbs are everywhere. You remember what your daddy, your real daddy, said the day he died? Of course you do. I imagine you dream about it at night. I bet sometimes when you are all alone in your bed in the brothel you now own, when there are no slaves and no customers and no budget and no young Nords trying to squeeze into you. I bet you think of your daddy and you wake up screaming our proverbs.”

Hel looked away.

“That’s what I thought, kitten,” the sister said. She dragged from her cragweed and breathed out a cloud of blue smoke. “But before I give you my advice, I want to ask you a few questions.”

“Tit for tat. I answer your questions, you answer mine.”

A smile curled at the Sister’s mouth. “Oh, I like you. You have the cojones to break into my haven, and then when I say I will set you free, you start making demands.”

Cojones, by the way, means Sister Diez Osos thought Hel had balls.

“First question: why do you still run the brothel?”

Hel shrugged. “It’s all I’ve ever known. My father owned the brothel since before I was born.”

“And your mother?”

“I didn’t know my mother.”

“Was she one of the slaves? Did your old man sell your mother away after you were born?”

“No. My mother died in childbirth.”

“Well, at least that’s the story your father told you. I bet if you ask around, you might get a different story.”

“I was nursed by one of my father’s slaves, if that satisfies you.”

“Satisifies me? I came to this hellish planet twenty years ago. It has been my prison and my salvation ever since. Nothing satisfies me. What is it like working in a brothel. Or do you not work in the brothel?”

“I have men and women there who give customers comfort from the ever winter and forever night. I tend to the bar and the administrative matters. That is all.”

“So you are still a virgin?”

Hel flashes her eyes. She wasn’t going to say.

“Come now. You came here to kill me, kitten. Your secret may well die with me.”

“I tend to the bar and administration only. Now I have some questions for you.”

“I’m an open book.”

“Why did you come to Mala-Mundial?”

“I was sent here by Santa Muerte.”

“You’re being vague and not answering my question. I answered yours.”

“I’m not being vague, daughter. I was a Doña Muerte since I was a little girl. I am from Vulcan.”

“The man-made planet?”

“More like robot made and slave made than man made, but certainly man-run. I was born into the Doñas. My mother was a Doña, and I signed my name in the black book before I could write. When I was a young woman moving up the ranks of the Doña Muertes, the law caught up with me and sent me to prison on this hellish planet.”

“The Malbolge?”

“Yes. I was imprisoned there for ten years, and when they let me go, I came here like most everyone else trying to get offworld. But I never got the chance. The Doñas recruited me. I have been here ever since, doling out sins to sinners like a demon in the pit.”

“And you really believe this story about Saint Death guiding your path? You really believe what it says in the Proverbs of Hell?”

Sister Diez Osos contemplated Hel’s question before she answered. “I believe that life here is cold, and it is hard, and if you are lucky, a gunshot or a swipe of the sickle ends your life quickly. If you are unlucky, you live a long, hard life in this pressing cold wasteland until you are finally killed by some teen-age saber-tooth that only half kills you and leaves you to bleed out to death slowly and painfully while it carves through your guts. Do you believe any different?”

“No.”

“The difference between you and me is that I focus my actions on principles. You focus yours on what? I mean, what gets you up in the morning to work as a Nord?”

“They are my family.”

“If they are your family, then why are you here ready to kill me over a rancher’s kid and not one of them? I killed two Nords today. So no, I don’t buy it. They’re not your family any more than I am. So what gets you up in the morning?”

“My father’s legacy. I keep the brothel he built up.”

Sister Diez Osos made a sound like a buzzer. “Aih! Try again. Your father was a scumdog like the rest of us. He had a slave raise you. He probably made you see and deal with things no teenager should have to see or do.”

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

“You’re here to kill me, right? That’s why you stood over me the sickle, isn’t it? It’s the most honest, most ultimate thing a person can do to another is kill them. And now you sit here dishonest as a dire dog. Stop being pathetic and answer the damn question, Hel. “

“I do it because I feel trapped. I feel like if I stop doing it, the Frost Giant will kill me.”

Sister Diez Osos leaned back in her chair. “Now we’re getting somewhere, daughter. Welcome to the show. For the first time, your pretty little head is in the game. You are thinking like a criminal mastermind.”

Hel looked down. Sister Diez Oso reached across the space between them and punched her in the face so hard that Hel fell out of her chair. The Doña grabbed the sickle from her and stood over her.

“Still let your emotions get the best of you, though. We can work on that.”

Hel looked from the curvature of the sickle’s blade to Sister Diez Osos. “What do you mean?”

“I want to offer you a job, Hel. I see potential. Hell, I even see a bit of you in me when I was your age, no pun intended. You’ve already proven yourself capable of running a criminal enterprise, and you’ve shown me today that you have the talents to be a great assassin of Santa Muerte. I just had to make sure you were a virgin, first.”

“You want me to be a Doña Muerte?”

Sister Diez Oso led Hel back out into the nave, where the other sisters were waiting, weapons drawn.

“We have a new sister!” Sister Diez Osos announced. The Doñas that were still coherent cheered.

“Is Sister Margarite dead?” Sister Diez Osos asked a candy-skull faced woman, who nodded solemnly.

“Then prepare Sister Margarite for Sister Hel’s inauguration.”

“Wait. What? I haven’t agreed to anything,” Hel said.

“But you already have agreed in your heart, daughter. You agreed when you reached out to attack me without notifying the Frost Giant. You want free of the Nords? Then the ritual de lo habitual is the only way out. You will eat Sister Margarite’s flesh, and we will drink from her blood, and then you will be a true Sister of Santa Muerte.”

Hel looked around at the women and said, “Hold on. I mean, I get it. Everybody knows the Doñas are a giant criminal organization spanning many, many planets. But here on Mala-Mundial, especially after all you’ve suffered, you’re what? Twenty women with guns and giant razor blades?”

“This is an opportunity to start something big, daughter.”

“No. I say no. Keep your meat and your blood and your cult. I’m out.”

Hel started to back out of the church.

“Before you go, I said I would give you some advice,” Sister Diez Osos said. “Come into the sacristy.”

Back in the sacristy, Sister Diez Osos nodded to the bottom drawer holding the priest’s vestments. “I have something in there for you. Something that may change your mind about joining the Doña Muertes.”

Hel reached into the drawer. She pulled out a shotgun. Carved into the gun’s shoulder butt were the initials V. W. Hel recognized her dad’s shotgun instantly. He used to keep it under the bar.

“Have you ever fired your father’s shotgun?”

“No.”

“Then you probably don’t know this, but it doesn’t work.”

Hel looked at Sister Diez Oso incredulously.

“What I’m trying to tell you is that your father could not have killed that saber-toothed tiger. I did. I was paid by your adopted father so that he could get control of the brothel.”

Hel threw the shotgun at Sister Diez Osos. She reached for the sickle and grabbed it from her. Hel’s first hit was a pummel to the legs that knocked Sister Diez Oso over.

“This is for Mateo and my father,” she said. The second hit was a swipe that removed Sister Diez Osos from this world.

As Doñas came rushing into the room, Hel held up Sister Diez Osos head. The mouth was still gasping for air. Then Hel did something she did not plan on doing and had no idea why she did it. She just did it. She held Sister Diez Osos’ head over hers and let the blood drip down her throat. Then she tossed the severed head at the sisters and ran out of the nave. They didn’t chase her. They were looking at what she had written in the blood spilled out of Sister Diez Osos’ body: Remorseless as the Mala-Mundial.