Within A Dark Forest - Chapter 5

All of them were asquint In intellect in the first life, so much That there with measure they no spending made. – Inferno, Canto VII, Fourth Circle: The Avaricious and Prodigal; the Fifth Circle: the Wrathful and Sullen

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Dedicating this chapter to Erin, who is collidingkiss on Tumblr, and is one of the nicest people I've ever met. She's sweet, she listens to me, and she's a joy to have on my dash. I wish one day we could be friends, and I know that she reads and really enjoys this fic so…this is for her!

Santana felt her chest grow lighter as she ran out of the room, her back crashing against the door as she closed it and started taking deep breaths, trying to calm herself as she looked around her new surroundings, the new Circle.

She quickly ticked off her mental list. And if her calculations were right…she was now in…

"Avarice?"

Nobody answered, strangely enough. It was a large hall, marble, black and white, columned and arched. And nothing seemed cheap.

"Is this a bank?" she asked again, her voice bouncing off the floor and onto the walls and coming back to her, hitting her right in the ears. She looked behind her, at the door, and shuddered.

She'd just keep walking.

As she walked, she noticed how the floor seemed to be peppered with white figures on the marble, intricate drawings of hourglasses, bones and…

Skulls.

Her eyes caught the stare of one particularly large drawing beneath her feet, cloaked in black, with wings on the back, an hour glass clutched firmly between thin, long fingers. She was at its feet, her eyes travelling from the bottom right to the top of it, shuddering as she noticed that even though there were no eyes, somehow it seemed to gaze at her back.

"Hello?!" she called again, and this time a small echo came back, a female voice that yelled back, "Hello!".

Her feet carried her further up the marble hall, until she suddenly reached a desk, a small oak desk right at the end of the corridor, standing right before a large pair of statues. Two skeletons, holding swords that extended towards their middle, staring steadily forward as they guarded a large vault right in their centre, metal and closed and imposing above her…

"Money money money must be funny in a rich man's world!"

She blinked away the flash of song and looked at the woman sitting behind the desk, staring up at her. She looked like what you would imagine a woman banker to look like – frameless square glasses on the edge of her nose, a perfect bun of chestnut-blonde hair, a pair of stone cold business-only eyes, pursed lips and a drawn out face. She sat up straight behind the desk, and gave Santana a small, cruel smile.

Santana couldn't help but think she looked like a lizard readying itself to eat a juicy fly.

"Hello, Miss Lopez."

"This is Avarice, isn't it?"

The lady gave her a tight smile and gestured to the chair that had suddenly materialized beside Santana. "What was your first impression?"

"It's a bank. Avarice is Greed. And what's worse than material greed these days, huh?"

The woman nodded and opened up a large leather-bound book she had before her.

"So, Santana Lopez, let's look at some history, shall we?"

"Santana, can you afford all this?" Quinn asked worriedly as Santana came out of the changing room with her arms laden with five sweaters, three trousers, seven shirts and a dress.

The darker girl nodded enthusiastically and rushed to the counter, trying hard not to trip over her own feet (a feat proving impossible when she couldn't see her own face).

"My dad is one of the richest doctors in Ohio, Quinn. I think I can afford to buy these clothes, no?"

Quinn huffed. "You're such a Daddy's girl."

"Actually, I'm Daddy's Credit Card's Girl."

"Looks like you come from a family of…wealthy people."

"Dad's a doctor, Mum's a real estate agent."

"So I see you were raised without want for anything in your life?"

Santana shrugged, trying to prevent herself from being smug about it. She had to keep her cool; she had to get out of this level…

"I guess."

"Well, then, we won't have any real problems here."

She raised an eyebrow at the woman as she rose and walked towards the vault, turning the small lock on the thing. She pulled the metal door open effortlessly, and gestured to Santana.

"Go on. Get in."

--

The vault was not filled with money, as she had expected.

Inside, arising from the floor and up to the top of the invisible ceiling, where shelves that stretched for miles above and ahead of her. There seemed to be no end to the books carefully stacked in each shelf, and there was definitely no end to the names.

"Ah, here we are."

The woman handed Santana another leather-bound book, one that had her name firmly pressed into the front in imposing gold letters. Santana took it into her hands, then looked up at the woman as she watched her walk away, to the front of the vault.

"How will I know I've won?" she called after her. Won, what a silly expression…this wasn't a game…

"You'll know."

A loud clank filled the room as the door to the vault swung shut and Santana was left alone.

She looked around rapidly in the space and saw a small chair a few feet away. She clambered to it and sat down heavily, opening the book and staring at the first page's text.

Santana Lopez has been guilty of the sin of Avarice many a time.

Frowning, she looked down at the piece of paper before her and shook her head slightly. Her? Greedy?

"Daddy, please!"

"Santana, no! We can't afford to have that kind of contraption!"

"It's a car, Dad!"

Her father bared his teeth at her and she backed off. "Don't be greedy, Santana! The greedy are never satisfied!"

Each paper told a story, or a transcript of a conversation. Each paper stung at her fingers as she turned the page, cutting little indentations into the pads of her fingers, leaving her wincing with each turn of a page. She kept seeing conversations she knew were so superficial nowadays, so silly, so inappropriate…

"Puck, if you and I are gonna start dating, you had better be ready to fork out the hard cash."

"Not a problem, Lopez."

"Really? Because I've seen the clothes you wear…"

And another page…

"You sure you don't want to pay for dinner, Sam?"

"Santana, I don't have that much money…"

"Too bad. You're gonna have to pay somehow…"

And more yet…

"This is stupid…" she found herself muttering as she flipped past another conversation between her and her mother about some Versace heels. "What teenage girl doesn't want these things, huh? I was sixteen and stupid, do you blame me?!"

"Well…"

She turned rapidly, dropping the book and making the chair fall backwards, staring wide eyed at a wizened old man standing before her. He was leaning heavily on a cane, his eyes glazed over with age, his face carved into a thousand wrinkles. He was bent into a question mark, though he seemed anything but inquiring. He shuffled forward, and Santana found herself transfixed as she stared at him as he moved forward, his black black eyes capturing her own and keeping her in place.

"Avarice is greed, child. Not only material greed, but emotional greed too. You are guilty of both. How long has it been since you were denied anything in your life? You're beautifully sexy, you were probably always given whatever you wanted by anybody!"

"I was young!" she yelled out, hoping it was a good enough excuse to justify her actions.

"You still did it!" he yelled back, pulling his cane off the floor and pointing the end at her, grinning wickedly as she backed further away, her spine hitting the shelf slightly as she plastered herself against it, trying to get as far away from him as possible.

"You still had sex with whomever you wanted, got whatever you 'needed', convinced anybody you wanted about anything. You still did it. You are still guilty!"

"What about emotional then, huh? What about that?!" She had trumped him, she was sure of it. He had completely forgotten about-

Slowly, he pointed back at the book, hitting it with his cane and sending it sliding smoothly to her. "See for yourself…"

"She's beautiful, she's innocent, she's everything that's good in this miserable, stinking world."

"I was protecting my girlfriend…"

"You were claiming her as your own. You always did. It was the mark of a truly greedy person – one who does not even share people with others."

"I wasn't going to give her up so easily!"

The man narrowed his eyes, and a shimmer shook the air, transforming him into a younger version of himself. He was taller, a head full of luscious black hair, the cane still attached firmly to his side.

"So you'd be willing to keep her all to yourself, like a little bird that's cooped up in the palm of your hand?"

"I wanted her to be safe and happy! I was the only one who could give her that!"

"How are you so sure of that?"

She turned her eyes to her feet, feeling tears actually threaten her eyes. How dare he think that her relationship with Brittany was anything but selfish?! How dare he insinuate that Brittany could ever have been happier with someone else?!

"I was never greedy when it came to her. I only gave."

"Excuse me?"

She raised her head, a few lonely tears falling down her cheeks, tracing dark wet paths as they fell. "I only gave, I never took from her. Whatever she asked for, whatever she needed, I gave it to her. No hesitation. Ever. I never let her pay for anything, I never let her wait for me, I never made her wait for anything she wanted. I always said yes to her. She…" her voice cracked, and she covered her mouth with her hands as a sob fell from her lips.

"Anything! I'll pay for anything at all if you can keep her alive!" she cried out to the doctors as she followed them, ignoring the looks from other visitors and patients. "Please just keep her alive!"

"I'm sorry, Miss Lopez. There's nothing we can do. She got hit pretty badly. She won't wake up."

"I'll pay for the machine. I'll pay for the treatment. Anything! Please!"

"Where can an eighteen year old get that much money?" the doctor asked her as he walked away, pushing her to the side indignantly.

"I'm an almost-heiress here!"

"Miss Lopez, there is nothing we can do for your friend."

"I was ready to give her everything."

"Anything?"

"Why do you think I'm down here?!" she shouted out, her anger suddenly seeping into her eyes, forming new hot tears, tears of blood thirst. "I'm down here for her, only her! I came back for her! She didn't have to die and I'm going to give everything I've got until she gets her life back!"

Frowning anew, the demon moved forward slightly, poking her with the cane in her knee, hard. "Are you sure it's not just for you? You're not doing this because you're lonely, are you? Because if you are…then you're just as Greedy as the rest of them."

She backed down, her mind clouding over as the shadow of doubt he had placed there suddenly started to grow. Was this really all worth it.

"I'll give up anything for you. Anything."

"Santana, don't say that."

"I'd die for you, Brittany. I would."

"Would you be willing to never return to the surface if she had to live?"

"Yes."

"You answer so readily."

She looked him right in the eye, emotion draining from her face to be replaced by a stone cold cover.

"You underestimate me."

"Santana!"

She looked up at Rachel as she entered her apartment and rolled her eyes. Or at least, she tried to. But she was too weak. Her head was light, her body was disconnected. Something wet and sticky was falling to her fingers slowly, staining her red.

"Santana what happened?"

She tried to speak but she only found herself croaking. Rachel engulfed her in an embrace and started murmuring softly into her hair as she grabbed the telephone, punching in 911 quickly. "Santana, why? Why would you do this? Brittany wouldn't want you to do this…she'd want you to live on. She loved you, Santana. You have to live on, for her. She wouldn't want this…don't be selfish, please!"