The Seven Sins, Joslinne Morgan [good fiction books to read .TXT] 📗

down guiltily. “I didn’t.”
“Well, I don’t think it was entirely your fault.”
“Really?”
“Of course not. We both know that your wits left you long ago along with your common sense.”
Pike’s expression wavered, uncertain about whether or not he had been paid a compliment. Phantom shook his head.
“I rest my case,” he stood up. “We better get going.”
“What sins were those?” Pike asked, trying his best not to look at the gruesome aftermath of the event.
“Envy and Avarice.”
“How did you kill them?”
“I didn’t have to. They killed each other.” He looked to the bulging leather bag Pike was dragging behind him like a sack of potatoes. “We’ll use that money of yours to get us food and lodging in the next town. That is, if we leave this place alive.”
“Bottle of laughs you are,” Pike reached for the flask on his belt, but remembered he had chucked that in favor of a strand of multi-colored crystals. Phantom carried a water bottle on his back, from which he drank from sparingly, but he refused to share as part of Pike’s punishment, he said, for dropping their food.
“The only problem now is getting out of this cave,” Phantom said. “Any ideas?”
“We could try over there,” Pike pointed towards a small door across the room, leaking purple light. A frown creased Phantom’s forehead.
“Odd how I didn’t see that,” he muttered.
Pike beamed, proud to be the first one to spot something that would help them.
“Well, I don’t see any other options, so come on,” he grabbed Pike’s hand and practically dragged him across the room over to the door. Close up, the could see the door was made out of silver, gilded gold leaves and vines twisted into elaborate patterns framed a a single budding rose in the middle. There was no handle, but rather the door simply pushed open. It was heavy and hard to move, but eventually they got through to the other side.
The other side was nothing but empty space on either side of a silver staircase. The staircase led up to another door, but beyond that there was nothing.
“Should we try it?” Pike asked, praying that the answer would be “no”.
“Yes,” Phantom said. “Or else we’ll be wondering the rest of our lives what might have happened.” He put his foot on the first step. It held firm, and he took another step.
Once he was five steps up, Pike began to follow him. There was no handrail, and the stairs were narrow. Pike couldn’t help but glance over the side every now and then and think of how if he fell it would be a dreadfully long way down.
The staircase spiraled on upwards. The climb itself actually felt shorter than it was. In no time at all, it seemed, they had reached the top.
The door, now that they were standing right in front of it, seemed to be made of amethysts. The purple gems glowed with a bright inner light. This one did have a handle, it was silver and shaped like a flower. Pike looked at Phantom, who shrugged and reached out, his long fingers wrapped around the knob. It was jammed. While he fussed with it, Pike took a peak around the side of the door and was surprised to see nothing behind it, just more black space. Were they going through all this trouble to open a door that led to nothing?
He pulled himself back. Before he could ask, Phantom had unstuck the door using a spell, and it opened without the hinges making a sound. To both their surprise and amazement, the door opened up to a room, a very odd room.
The room was a full 360º circle. The floor was glass, and the walls were paneled with mirrors. In the middle of the room was a raised stand, of course colored purple, and on top of it stood a woman, who was wearing all purple, from her long purple hair to her purple lips and flowing purple dress. She stood so still Pike wondered if she was made of wax. In her hand she held a small silver handled mirror. The only way they could tell she was alive at all was because every now and then she would reach up to touch a part of her face and mutter to herself about how perfect they were.
Who knows how long they stood there, just staring at her. She was beautiful, in her own odd way. Phantom’s reverie was shattered when Pike stood on his toes and whispered into his ear, “Is that Lust?”
“No,” Phantom snapped back. “Does that look like Lust to you?”
“Um, yes,” Pike answered.
Phantom snorted.
“It’s Vanity,” he said. “Can’t you tell?”
“Not really, or I wouldn’t have asked if it was Lust.”
“It’s so bloody obvious.”
Distracted by their whispered conversation, Vanity turned her head and studied them. She managed to force a smile.
“Hello,” she said to Phantom, although she was looking at the Mirror of Disillusion. “My, what a lovely Mirror. May I have it?”
Phantom covered the Mirror which now hung against his bare chest protectively with one bandaged hand.
“No,” he answered.
“So, so, so,” she purred. “May I see it then? It’s such a lovely thing.”
“You have plenty of mirrors,” Pike said, casting one eye over the room. “I doubt you need his.”
“I just want to see it,” she stretched out one white hand. Phantom hesitated, then lifted the chain from his neck and laid it across her palm. Pike looked at him in alarm.
“Are you INSANE?” he whispered.
“Shh,” Phantom put a finger to his lips. “Don’t worry, I know what I am doing.”
“Thank you,” Vanity cooed, cradling the Mirror in both hands. “I just want to look at myself once, and then I’ll give it back, I promise.”
“Yeah, right.” Pike scoffed.
Vanity shot him a black look that completely marred her beautiful face and lifted up the Mirror of Disillusion.
“AIEEEE!” she screamed. She dropped the mirror immediately, but Phantom caught it before it hit the ground simply by extending one hand and grabbing the chain. Vanity’s reflection still remained on the surface, and Pike saw what had caused her to scream. Instead of her beautiful face it had shown the face of a crone, old and ugly, with liver spots on her forehead and wrinkles within her wrinkles. Bushy gray eyebrows settled over a hawk-like nose with a wart on the end, and a few sparse hairs grew on her chin. Thin, nearly invisible lips parted to reveal crooked, green teeth. Pike looked away.
“That’s you, Vanity,” Phantom taunted. “Oh, you may be beautiful outside, but inside, you are ugly. Ugly as your reflection. That is what the Mirror of Disillusioning is, it shows your true self.”
Vanity, still screaming, rushed to one of the windows against the wall to assure herself that she was still beautiful and that the reflection had been no more than a horrible prank. But before she could reach it, the glass shattered from its frame and fell to the floor. Her screams grew more shrill and panicked, and she moved to another mirror. The same thing happened to all the mirrors she approached. A simple wave of Phantom’s hand was all it took for the mirrors to burst.
When all her mirrors had been destroyed, Vanity put both hands to her head in distress and sank down to her knees on the stand, groping about for the small hand mirror. It wasn’t there, of course, Phantom was holding it.
“Are you looking for this?” he asked. She looked up, real tears running down her cheeks along with her mascara. Her hair was disheveled and her face was red from sobbing and hysterical screaming. She wasn’t quite so beautiful now, but Pike felt almost sorry for her.
“Please, give it back,” she begged. Phantom taunted her further by tossing the mirror from hand to hand until Pike leaned over and said, “Give it back.”
Phantom shot him an annoyed look, but then he shrugged it off and looked back at Vanity.
“Here, catch,” he tossed it into the air and it landed in her lap. She snatched it up and her hand flew to her mouth when she glimpsed at her haggard appearance. She was still making attempts to smooth her hair back into place when she whimpered and fell forward, her blood streaming between her fingers as she clutched her chest.
Phantom walked over to her and placed his boot on the small of her back as he pulled his dagger out.
“Why did you have to do that?” Pike asked, looking at Vanity.
“You felt sorry for her,” it was not a question.
“Well, yes,” Pike admitted.
“I put an end to her misery,” Phantom said, wiping his dagger clean. “Trust me.”
“You cold, callus, unfeeling, uncaring…!”
“Are you quite finished?”
“Hardly,” Pike took a deep breath as if to continue on his tirade, but Phantom shushed him with a word.
“Come,” he waved his dagger in the direction of a dark hole in the wall that was behind a bent and tarnished silver mirror frame. “Our exit.”


6
Wrath

“Can I have him?” Wrath asked viciously, turning to Lust. Her sister yawned, uncaring.
“Go for it,” she replied. “We both know the master is in no condition to make a decision right now.”
Wrath fingered the whip on her belt.
“I’ll be back soon,” she vowed. “And I’ll have the Mirror with me.”
Lust smiled but didn’t reply.

“This place stinks,” remarked Pike, scrunching up his nose. The walls of the tunnel were coated with a slimy residue that rubbed off on whatever had the misfortune to scrape against it and then clung to whatever it could grab hold of. Pike tried to rub the stuff off on his pant leg, but that only worsened it. “It smells like someone dumped out the contents of a loo.”
“Decay and death, you’ll be used to it by the time this is all over,” Phantom replied, sweeping aisde a cobweb with one hand.
“Marvelous,” Pike said sarcastically. He had shed his cloak not long ago due to the increasing warmth of the tunnel and now it lay draped over his arm. Phantom, still shirtless, did not seem to be having a problem.
“Don’t worry, my dear Pike, it’s almost over. Only two sins left to go.”
“And then, food,” Pike began dreamily. “And none of that stringy Crawler meet, either. I want venison and ham smoked over coals and I want bread rolls as big as my face, golden-brown and fresh from the oven. I want sweet, chilled strawberry wine…”
“That’s enough, Pike.” There was a subtle warning in the words. Pike clamped his mouth shut.
The tunnel was warming up. The walls began to glow brightly like live coals and