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  Hellraiser

  The Hell Chronicles, Book 5

  Tina Glasneck

  My eyes are now WIDE OPEN!

  The battle rages daily. Freedom is only one hashtag away. #salute #mytruth

  Tina Glasneck

  Contents

  Blurb

  Characters & Places

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Also by Tina Glasneck

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Hellraiser © 2019 Tina Glasneck

  Cover by Ravenborn Covers

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

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  Created with Vellum

  Blurb

  The Mad King has risen.

  Sif and her motley crew of Norse gods—Loki, Thor, and Heimdall—face off with a deadly enemy and no one is safe from Lady Hel's terror.

  War comes at a great cost and with even greater consequences.

  When all hell breaks loose, which side will Sif be on?

  Enjoy all of the books in The Hell Chronicles series:

  Hell for the Holidays, Book 0

  Hellish, Book 1

  Hellbent, Book 2

  Helltown, Book 3

  Hellbound, Book 4

  Hellraiser, Book 5

  This series is best enjoyed when read in order.

  Readers who like Norse mythology inspired Urban Fantasy and action and adventure will enjoy this fascinating series of gods, monsters and heroes by USA Today bestselling author Tina Glasneck.

  Characters & Places

  Alfheim: The realm of the elves (Light Elves).

  Asgard: One of the nine realms in Norse Mythology; the location of where the Aesir (the gods) live.

  Baldr: The god of light, previously killed by a mistletoe arrow. He now resides in Helheim with his wife, Nanna.

  Dark Elves: Reside in the realm of Svartalfheim, invaders of Earth; also called Dökkálfar. The Dark elves live underground and are often mistaken for dwarves.

  Dwarves: Dwarves are known as master smiths and the creators of many of the gods most cherished items, such as Thor’s hammer, Mjolnir. They are believed to live within stones or boulders; they are humanoid, but unlike the current understanding, dwarves were not considered to be short.

  Dis (plural disir): An ancestral spirit. Fyre is Sif’s dis.

  Elves: There are two different types of elves – light and dark elves. Light elves are connected to the gods and are considered by many to be demigods and extremely beautiful.

  Fenrir: Known as the “great” wolf, is the son of Loki, and the brother of Lady Hel.

  Freyja: Norse goddess, married to Odin, stepmother to Thor. She lives in Asgard. It is thought that both Frigg and Freyja are the same goddess, just two different representations of the same goddess. Freyja is the goddess of love, war, and sex. She is also the leader of the Valkyrie; while Frigg is seen to denote beloved.

  Garmr: Lady Hel’s faithful dog.

  Harley: The reincarnated Erlking or Alder King, and Lady Hel’s mate.

  Helheim: Also called Hel, is one of the places the dead are received. Lady Hel rules it. Helheim means covered and cannot be compared with the Christian Hell of torture, fire or brimstone. Instead, some sources reference Helheim as a cold place, but still where feasts are held (such as is the case for the god Baldr, who is now there).

  Heimdall: He is a Norse god, who is considered to be the gods’ watchman. He resides at the entry to Asgard.

  Jörmungandr: Also called the Midgard Serpent, he is the son of Loki and brother of Lady Hel. It is prophesied that at Ragnarok, he will kill Thor.

  Lady Hel: The ruler of Helheim, a final resting place for the sick, elderly, and those who have not died with honor.

  Loki: Loki is the god of mischief, the mother of Sleipnir, and the father of Lady Hel, Fenrir, and Jörmungandr, as well as Vali and Nari/Narfi.

  Midgard: Earth, is referenced as the term Midgard in Norse mythology.

  Naglfar: The ship made of the dead’s nails and hair.

  Norns: The three goddesses of fate.

  Odin: He is called the All-Father, king, and ruler of Asgard. He is married to Freyja, and the father of Thor and Baldr.

  Ragnarok: The final battle of the gods, prophesied to be the end of everything.

  Svartalfheim: The realm of the Dark elves.

  Siegfried: Lady Hel’s faithful servant.

  Sif: The incarnate celestial key; she is a college student trying to find her way in this brave new world, accompanied by her friends: Ola, Kristen, Chi, and Emily.

  Sleipnir: Odin’s eight-legged horse, and the stallion son of Loki.

  1

  Sif

  Germany, 10 years ago

  The square in the German town was busy as old and young people meandered in what appeared to be a Viking-like fair or whatnot. Tambourines, flutes, a harp, and hurdy-gurdy played as rhythmic beatings on the drum mixed with an almost celestial-like voice. The music played and drifted across the churchyard. Under the large towering green oak that was in the courtyard’s center, its green canopy rich with color as if painted in technicolor. The smell of freshly baked bread and sweets wafted. My mouth watered.

  My heart had been pulled toward Germany at the tender age of sixteen when the heavens opened and provided me a chance to visit. After all, it soothed my parents’ conscience to send me to the land of the Reformation, and since the trip would also provide me with extra credit during summer school, they splurged.

  On this tour that included medieval churches and castles, my heart fluttered to be in the land of the Brothers Grimm, to be so close to the highway of fairytales where this land gave fodder to the stories of my youth. I tapped on my satchel, and the heft of the thick travel book inside gave me some peace.

  Today, the group of ten comprised of American teens and two adult chaperones would visit the place I couldn’t get out of my mind: Geismar.

  In the German city of Geismar, located in the state of Hesse, where the red clay roofs dotted the picturesque landscape view, I stared at the surrounding rolling hills of green, while some tall trees of the once-ancient and-sacred grove remained, at least, that was according to the well-worn travel manual in my possession.

  With a gro
up of ten, the tour guide droned on, but when he mentioned the name of Donar, better known as Thor, I leaned in, not wanting to miss a word.

  Mr. Lashwell, our tour guide, turned to me as if noting my interest. “It is said that Donar’s Oak was chopped down around 723 C.E. and that the remains of the tree were then used to build a Christian church.”

  “How did they know it was Thor’s tree? Did he come down swinging Mjolnir?” one of the teenage boys asked while swinging his arms as if he held a baseball bat.

  “Bishop Willibald, a Bishop in Bavaria at the time, wrote about it in his book, Life of Saint Boniface,” Mr. Lashwell happily said. “But where the exact location was, and which church it truly was, was up for question.”

  I frowned at that.

  The group made their way further into the vestibule. Sadness seeped in, where there was once excitement. Soon, they would make their way into the sanctuary and have a look at all of the stained-glass windows depicting biblical scenes. Standing still, I allowed the others to move around me.

  “Are you okay?” the tour guide asked, and I simply nodded.

  “Just need some fresh air.”

  “Magical places do that, I hear, especially to those who carry the gift. Head outside and sit on the bench.” The church bell rang as if punctuating his sentence.

  I walked outside and down the stone stairs back to the courtyard. The church was part of the old city, where pedestrian traffic was the only one allowed on its aged cobblestone streets. An open-air market was to the left, with vendors selling their wares—fresh bread, vegetables, chicken eggs, while others sold jewelry and the like.

  Under the large towering oak that rested outside of the church’s gates was an empty bench, and next to it was a table, where an older woman with flowing yellow hair sat—dressed in a frock made for a renaissance fair. Her heart-shaped face was fresh and almost glowed. She could have done skincare commercials. At her feet rested two large cats—they were the size of medium dogs. There must have been a light breeze as her hair danced on it.

  “Dear child, why are you not in the church learning of how the pagans were destroyed?” Her eyes had a mischievous twinkle in them as if she wanted me to respond.

  “I don’t think much of the tale,” I said. “If that was really Thor’s tree, I’m sure it wouldn’t have been as easy to destroy.”

  “Ha, it wasn’t easy at all. It took them hours of labor to get it down. However, that is the thing about a sacred grove. What some acknowledge as being holy, sacred even, others cast it away as if it was garbage. But what they didn’t understand is that the gods did not live in that grove, or in those trees, but in the hearts and prayers of the people. “

  “You seem to know a lot about this stuff.”

  The woman smiled. Although I didn’t see her put something in her hand, she opened her closed palm, and in it, was a necklace that had an amulet of Thor’s hammer, Mjolnir, on it.

  “A magical amulet?”

  “It is more than magical. It is a direct way to speak to the gods. I have already seen the role you will play in our grand future, dear Sif. And I know you won’t let us down.”

  My eyes watered. What could this strange woman see in me? I was just a kid with a family who didn’t accept her, heck, even my brother moved as far away as he could to escape the crazy parental unit.

  This was my truth.

  If children were impressionable pieces of glass or art, then I was surely destined to be screwed up. Over the years, the sermons in the youth group had gone from that of love to that of self-hate. According to them, I wasn’t supposed to read anything, as sin was a trap ready to pounce on each one of us and drag us down to a fiery pit where a fallen angel sought to torment us for having free will. I also wasn’t supposed to dance, sing, fall in love, date or desire anything that meant more than not becoming a breeder, the ultimate goal of the splintered-off cult of the non-denominational denomination.

  I didn’t connect with their version of the gods.

  And the more this woman spoke to me, I wasn’t sure I ever had.

  “Who are you?”

  I knew the stories of the gods, having snuck many nights to read the old tales in the Eddas. Everything I could get my hands on, I devoured, from the simple myths to their Old Norse retellings.

  “The magic of Yggdrasil is in that amulet, carved from the holy shedding bark. It is infused with magic, but it is only a symbol. My dearest Sif, you have been called, chosen. For the time shall come when I shall need you, too, to save me.”

  She moved around the table and placed the necklace over my head. The cool metal of the amulet comforted me.

  I cupped the amulet in my hand and stared at it. It shimmered. Maybe it had pieces of meteorite in it. That thought made me smile. What better gift from the gods than having a goddess present me with hope for my fragile face?

  “In fact, dear Sif, you shall one day save us all.”

  2

  Sif

  Present Day

  Like a horror movie serial killer, I advanced on Arma, the dark elf commander.

  Her skin was black and bruised as if fire had lapped at it, but it did not burn in the red-and-brass-colored armor. Stretched out behind her were charred black-and-white wings. One gold horn jutted from her head, covering the burned part of her face. Cracked, the charring ran from head to toe, her flame doused by fear.

  Wide-eyed, she stared at me. Her flames did not hurt me. She shook her head. Instead, she looked scared and foolish. I gripped my battle-ax’s handle. It and I were one. It was an extension of my rage, my grief, my sheer hate.

  There would be no apologies accepted, despite her sniffling. The old Sif might have extended grace and mercy, but not this one. No, she’d taken someone from me, someone I could never get back.

  Actions could not be erased. Even now, despite the smoke and burning of wood, and flesh, I could still catch a hint of Chi’s perfume—vanilla. She’d always liked vanilla, be it in a latte or just ice cream. “Vanilla was something you could mold into what you wanted,” she’d always said.

  And now, here on this street of death, beneath the towering skyscrapers, before City Hall, on top of the burning black asphalt, I sought to mold something new and fresh—revenge. She’d killed Chi and desecrated her corpse on the altar of war.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could still see her stretched out on the wooden rack; her body bloodied and bruised—Chi rested, prone, and her back was flayed open with her ribs severed, and her lungs pulled through.

  “You have committed treason against the gods, and your sentence is death,” I spat out beneath clenched teeth.

  “You are not judge and jury; only Odin can do that,” she countered and took a step back.

  “Well, you can take it up with him.”

  “I will,” she began, “I will make sure that you—”

  I raised my ax, and with one quick swing, I efficiently separated her head from her shoulders. It would be a nice apology gift to Odin for my betrayal—not obeying him.

  Although silence was all that should have remained, I noticed the sound of approaching footsteps. Lady Hel and I were alone.

  “That was quicker and better than expected,” Lady Hel began, “but I’m not quite done with you yet.” She then swung her arm and stabbed me with one of her enchanted daggers.

  3

  Lady Hel

  Danger could be beautiful.

  After crossing into Niflheim in her black carriage pulled by nine of Helheim’s strongest steeds into the arctic cold of the land of fire and ice, where the river Elivagar created the border to Helheim, Lady Hel hummed a tune. The first step of many was ending to usher in the new age. While those in Midgard focused on the infantry troops of the Dark Elves, she’d ensured that the next wave of malice would rise to clench the power from their Dark Elven comrades.

  Here, all things had a wild appeal. Even the majestic yew trees grew in twisty and beautiful ways. The hills were spotted with bright yellow aconite
and rich violet lavender plants.

  “Are they expecting us, dearest,” Harley asked and took her skeletal hand in his, placing a chaste kiss upon it. Harley, or rather Herle the Alder King had finally awakened, and this meant the next step in their plot could unfold. She’d never call him it, but he was the embodiment of a mad king. Behind those kind eyes lurked every bit as much craziness.

  “Love, I assure you, Hekate has watched over and cared for our realm as though it were her own. She is our daughter and more than capable of keeping the reins tightly in place.” She reached out and petted Garmr’s head, as his tail banged against the carriage’s floorboards. “Do you have the bouquet for her?”

  Harley raised the colorful bouquet of dandelions, hemlock, poppies, and Belladonna.

  “Her favorites.”

  Hel could see the slight strain around Harley’s glowing green eyes. It had been centuries since he’d seen his daughter, centuries of wondering, missing important dates as he was lost in Midgard, trapped in one human body after another until she could free him.

  And unlike the other children, Hekate was the eldest, the one who’d they’d tried so hard to conceive. She did not disappoint, becoming a goddess in her own right.