Getting Out Of Hell

Ivanka did not say anything. I've never heard her talk. I'm not entirely sure that she can talk or what language she talks. In Hell, I've never had any problem understanding anyone, and Ivanka seems to understand me. She didn't even nod.

"I need to get out of here," she said. Ivanka just looked at me, her large hand caressing the inside of my bicep on my right arm. It tickled a little, and excited me a little.

"How long has it been since I last saw you?" I asked her, without much hope that she'd answer. I sat up and wondered why Ivanka had clothes but I didn't. I tried to think how long it had been in my time since I'd seen her. But I couldn't. Time flows differently when I'm awake and when I'm asleep or in Hell or both or whatever.

Ivanka stood up and stretched and started rearranging her clothes. I hadn't had much of an effect on them. Valkyries are sort of set up for sex. Or Ivanka was. I hadn't met any other Valkyries so I guess I sort of stereotype them by Ivanka. I wasn't even sure how I knew she was a Valkyrie. Or how I knew what a Valkyrie was in the first place.

What I mean is: Ivanka's clothes were ready for sex anytime and didn't need much adjusting. They were loose and open and you could get to the good parts without much trying. I figured watching Valkyries fight would be exciting.

I looked around. I had no idea where I was. Most of the time when I appear in Hell I didn't care where I was and it's almost always somewhere different and I spend most of my time trying to hide and not get caught by the various people and things that populate Hell. This time, though, spurred on by Reverend Tommy's rants, I had an idea.

I was going to get out of Hell, and Ivanka I figured would help me.

"Where's your horse?" I asked her. Valkyries, I figured, always had horses. I don't know how I knew that, either.

But I was right. Ivanka turned towards me again as she pointed; she had one breast still a little outside of her armor. Think of Brigitte I told myself and as I did, I pictured Brigitte, kneeling over my unconcscious body and hoping I was all right and also I pictured her baby, which I wasn't yet ready to say was my baby. But that distracted me while Ivanka tucked her nipple away and pointed.

I turned in the direction she pointed and looked where I'd just been looking a moment before, before I'd turned towards her, and saw a horse materialize. Ivanka crooked her finger and the horse looked up and came trotting over.

"That's your horse?" I asked.

The horse nodded.

"Can you understand me?" I asked it.

It nodded again.

"But you can't talk?"

It shook its head, no.

"Just yes and no."

It tapped its hoof.

"What's that mean?"

The horse tapped its foot once, paused, then twice, paused, then three times.

"You can count."

It nodded.

"What's your name?"

It just looked at me.

"Right. Dumb."

Ivanka was walking around the horse and stood on the opposite side of it. She leaped up on top and sat there. I walked over, and she held out her hand. I reached up and grabbed it and she hoisted me onto the horse's back. I put my arms around her and tried not to think of what we'd just done, but it was hard what with my breasts pressed into her back and the fact that I was naked and had my legs pressed up tight against her.

The horse began trotting forward along the seashore, staying well clear of the boiling water but otherwise seeming unaffected by the rocks and pointy stuff and heat and general atmosphere.

Ivanka looked back over her shoulder at me. Her eyebrows raised up.

"Um. Out of Hell," I said. She nodded. The horse nodded, and began galloping. Then it took off and flew, running, up into the sky.