We came to an agreement, Frank and I, about how we were going to proceed now that I was free from that room. I did think it funny that I had longed so badly to get back there, to sleep in my own bed again and one of the first things I do once I'd got back was find a way to break out; my life had begun to confuse even me. Getting around Hell unnoticed was now imperative, the last thing I needed was for some underling to spot me and try to get in good with the big-wigs by turning me and my Whisperer 'friend' over to Malick, or Lucifer. But, as my legs were still feeling rather shaky from the effects of the curse, swiftness wasn't going to be my strong point.

In the end we decided that Frank would scout ahead. In his shadow form he could move quickly and virtually invisible, and in Hell there were plenty of shadows for him to travel through. He would travel ahead of me, rounding corners and ascending stairs to check out the hallways beyond for any other demons lurking there. If all was clear he would extinguish a number of the orange balls of flame that lit the tunnels - leaving only enough ablaze so I could see to place one foot in front of another – if the nearest ball of flame remained glowing, I should take it as a sign the tunnel was occupied, and finding somewhere to hide would probably be a good plan.

So in some strange and uncomfortable imitation of teamwork, we proceeded to make our way through the labyrinth that was Hell. I was nervous. It may have been a big place, but it was also densely populated and, in my experience, the tunnels were never deserted. My one, potential, saving grace was if there really was a spate of executions going on at that moment, then a very large number of Hell's demons would probably be in attendance. I was putting a lot of stake in Frank's words, essentially placing my fate into his taloned hands, which was a pretty drastic decision considering I knew there was no real reason I should trust him. If he came to decide that my plan didn't have anything in it for him, I didn't doubt he would turn on me in a second. I finally fully understood the phrase 'desperate times calls for desperate measures'. I had few other options, and Frank was thoroughly enjoying having all the power in his hands. Though I wasn't about to let him keep it.

Malick's official offices and personal chambers were located together, on one of the higher levels of Hell. This area housed all of the Clerics and, probably most importantly, the Hall of Records. It was my hope that he had a record of the prophecy about me kept somewhere in his own personal files – the most recent and most pressing of dealings generally were – because, although I knew it would certainly be in there, I did not relish the thought of rummaging through a Millennia worth of prophecies inside the Hall of Records.

The demon was meticulous in his record keeping. The position of High Cleric had been his for far longer than I cared to think about, and he was still as pedantic about his work as ever, for once it might actually work in my favour.

If I could only find the real details of that prophecy and not just the abridged version Frank had been fed, just maybe I could figure out once and for all why I had been set up to fail. What was it about me that had gone on to create so much chaos, and perhaps I might even find some way to get myself out of it. Here's hoping.

We managed to make it quite some way through the tunnels without encountering another living creature; although I was certain that at times Frank was testing my nerves as it took him quite some time upon rounding a corner before the lights would dim and signal it safe for me to continue. There may of course have been another creature in the tunnel I supposed, taking their own sweet time about leaving, but most of the time I felt he did it just to wind me up. As if I wasn't panicky enough already. But I should have known our good luck wasn't going to last forever.

I waited at the junction of one tunnel, waiting for Frank to signal the all clear and we would finally find ourselves ascending the stone staircase to the upper levels, and the Cleric's offices. I stood, somewhat impatiently, casting quick glances up and down the tunnel for any sign of movement and willed the lights to go out, but they continued to flicker. At first I took it for Frank having me on again, but then I heard the sound of footsteps. In his shadow form the Whisperer made no nose and had virtually no physical presence, it couldn't have been him making the sound, and as I listened more closely I managed to pick out the sound of more than one set of marching feet.

It was difficult to tell how many for they all moved in such a perfect rhythm, but the body and depth of the sound spoke of at least two, probably more. I held my breath and clapped a hand to my mouth to stop any sound from escaping. They may be able to just stroll right by Frank and never notice he was there, but I was very visible, and they most certainly would not just pass straight by. I recognised those footsteps. The heard heavy thud, the sound of some kind of armour plate hitting the stone floor, the slow but rhythmic procession of their steps. Demons so immense in size they would be passing through the tunnels in single file, hunching their backs and bowing their necks so that their helmeted heads did not hit the roof. Frank may have been huge in his corporeal form, but he was skinny, skeletal even, these demons were powerful, hulking masses of muscle with their own natural armour plating growing through their skin. The warriors of our kind. Berserkers, as they were fondly known, and the stuff of nightmares.

My eyes frantically scanned the tunnel in search of somewhere I might hide, but there were few prospects. We'd made our way out of the living quarters, where the majority of the 'grunt' breeds of demons were all housed amongst each other – those of us who did the dirty work on the surface – and the tunnels from here were little more than transitional corridors until we reached the upper levels. All that marred the bare stretch of stone wall was the occasional alcove, from inside which the orange flames would usually burn, though now all but one in the very centre of the tunnel lay in darkness. It wasn't much of a hiding place, but with the Berserkers advancing down the tunnel it was the only option.

I crept across the tunnel on quiet feet and sank down into the darkness of the alcove; pressing myself into the corner as tightly as I could. If I was lucky they would turn right at the end of the hall and not pass me by at all. If they did happen to turn left I was confident they wouldn't see me before they reached the alcove, I just had to hope that one would not happen to look back and spot me cowering in the corner once they had passed.

The footsteps strutted closer, the ground beneath me physically shook beneath the weight of their marching. I sucked in a breath and held it; though their hearing was exceptionally keen, they probably wouldn't hear me breathing above the sound of their own movements, but at that time I wasn't one to take chances. It seemed to take such a long time for just one of them to pass the alcove by – I hadn't been lucky enough for them to turn and head in the opposite direction – though I wasn't about to be fooled by their slow and steady march and monstrous size, they could move damn quickly when they wanted to.

My lungs ached as I struggled to hold onto my breath, still feeling raw from the effects of the curse, I couldn't hold onto it much longer, I would have to risk taking a breath. The second Berserker was passing as I let the air out of my lungs as slowly as I could, taking care not to gasp in a lungful of breath even though my body craved the oxygen. Slow, steady breaths, and the second one was gone.

My heart was beating such a frantic rhythm as the third, and I hoped final, berserker stomped into view. So far they had taken no notice of me, their vision staying fixed on the path ahead of them as they advanced, and I allowed myself to feel a small fluttering of hope that I could get away unnoticed. I supposed I should be thankful for their regimented, almost robotic nature. They were good at following orders, and cared little for what happened around them. Unless it crossed their path or drew unnecessary attention to itself they paid it very little attention. They had nothing to fear what might be lurking in the shadows, so they did not care to examine them.

Once the third demon had passed, and the only footsteps I could hear were those advancing further down the tunnel, I pushed myself back to my feet. My leg muscles screamed in protest as I moved them, complaining of the cramped squat I'd stuck them in for too long, and I let out an audible whimper as I stumbled to the other side of the alcove. I knew the instant I moved that I'd made too much noise as my legs, already not at their best, felt the return of blood flow and the numb tingling that came with pins and needles. I gripped the wall to steady myself, breathing hard as I fought not to give in to the fear that had me trembling.

Peering around the wall I held my breath once again. The Berserkers were almost to the end of the tunnel, but they had stopped in the midst of their march. One looked around, squinting down the tunnel with its beady black eyes that appeared far too small for the size of its head. Though I knew it was listening more than it was looking. Keen hearing made up for what it lacked in sight, besides Hell was a pretty dark place anyway, unless you had some specially adapted night-vision, the other senses tended to serve you better, and this was very much how the Berserkers had developed as a breed.

One looked straight at me, cocking its head like a dog as it listened out for the slightest of noise. Now that they weren't marching the silence in the tunnel was thick and I was very conscious of how easily I could break it and be discovered. I slipped back into the alcove, pressing my back against the wall, a hand to my mouth as I listened and tried to keep a hold of my breath.

Go, please, just turn around and leave, I thought to myself, pleading that on some level they might feel the compulsion in my words and continue on their way. After a few tense and silent moments the footsteps began again, and I made a drastic choice for myself. The shock of fear and adrenaline buzzed through my veins and I feared if I stood for too long I would collapse into a dead faint, I couldn't afford to give up now. Without so much as a glance back at them I ran. Ran out into the tunnel as quickly as my shaky legs would allow and as quietly as I could manage without breaking pace.

Don't look back, just keep going, don't look back. The words ran over and over in my head like some kind of mantra. I don't know whether I was talking more to myself or to the demons behind me, but either way it applied and I didn't so much as slow down even as I rounded the corner and hurtled past the spot where Frank still lurked in his shadow form.

“Hey. Slow down, love, you don't know what might be coming down those stairs,” he called after me, stepping out from the shadows and taking back his solid form.

But I shook my head. “No, that was too close for comfort.” I'd slowed down just a little, but I didn't intend to lurk in tunnels any longer. “We're nearly there now, let's just get this the hell over with.”