A Room of Steve's Own, or Give Us Some Space! (Circles in Hell Book 9) by A Room of Steve's Own or Give Us Some Space (epub)

Author:A Room of Steve's Own, or Give Us Some Space (epub)
Language: eng
Format: epub

Chapter 9

Feet-First Flying

W here are we?” Orson whispered.

We were standing in a dark and dusty space. My nose began to itch, and I sneezed. “In Einstein’s box, I think. Seems I’m allergic to theoretical physicists.”

“How is that possible? Not that you’re allergic, but that we’re trapped in a tiny box.” Orson made a sound that resembled someone being strangled. “Oh, wait. Silly me. This is Hell. If it’s unpleasant, it can happen.”

“Yeah, but as I was recently reminded, this isn’t the work of the Devil, but a consequence of the strange properties of Einstein’s soul stuff.”

“Well, I don’t care,” my friend huffed. “I don’t like it in here. Good thing this chest is roomy.”

“Or that we’re very small.”

My stomach fluttered. It was a feeling I associated with teleportation, as when Beezy had transported us from Gates Level a while earlier, or when I did it on my own, back in the days when I was a demon and could accomplish the deed under my own power.

“What just happened?” Orson said.

“I think we teleported.”

“To where?”

A light grew at our feet, as the black powder that was Einstein’s bad soul matter started to glow again. “I think we’re about to find out.”

As the lid opened, Orson and I began to stretch. Our feet remained on the bottom of the chest, but our heads and shoulders crested the top of the box. The ground before us was suddenly all too close, and our hands reflexively went out to absorb the impact of a collision. We touched earth, and as our bodies returned to normal shape and size, our legs and feet were pulled from Einstein’s chest.

“Oof!” I grunted, falling to one side. “I feel like a giant slinky.”

Orson stood, stretching to get the kinks out of his back. “A bruised slinky. I wonder where we are?”

We stood and discovered a broad, mostly featureless plain. The landscape was dotted with occasional scruffy trees, one of which was right beside us. Tumbleweeds, caught in the grip of a cold, dry wind blew across the earth. I shivered. “Looks like the Fourth Circle to me. Middle of nowhere.”

Orson grunted. “We must be miles from the Escalator. Best get walking.”

I held up a hand. “Let me get the box first.”

The lid to Einstein’s chest had fallen completely back, and bright light erupted from within it. I squinted. “Uh! That may be harder than I thought.”

“Maybe we can get around to its backside and grab it from there.”

“That’s a thought.”

Giving the box a wide berth, we attempted to get behind it … and found ourselves right back in the spot where we had, slinky style, landed on the ground. “The chest didn’t seem to like that,” I said. “Tell you what. You go that way, and I’ll go the opposite. Maybe we can confuse it.”

Once again, we tried to get behind the box. Once again, we found ourselves back in the spot where we had started.

Then the oddest thing happened. The light from the chest began to grow and twist, like a cyclone in a Kansas wheat field.

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