Adrian Blackhart

''A sleek black Rolls Royce Phantom pulls up outside the interview location, coming to a smooth stop, perfectly adjacent to the curb. To the eye of the unaware, the building opposite is that of Meredith, the headquarters of Time Magazine and all its subsidiaries, a modern monolith of clear glass plate in Lower Manhattan, 225 Liberty Street. The back left door of the car is opened, with Jason Couture, one of Adrian Blackhart's two bodyguards/drivers/personal assistants holding the opened door. There is a pause as the figure inside of the darkened car sits silently, before emerging and stepping out into the afternoon sun. Adrian, as per usual, is dressed immaculately, with a crisp black suit and matching tie, tailor made by Anderson and Sheppard and imported from London. Persol shades adorn his face, covering his eyes, as his shoulder length dark hair cascades and is augmented by his neatly trimmed facial hair. Behind the shades, his eyes analyse the building before him, the home of what some would argue is the world's finest publication, a magazine that has interviewed every meaningful celebrity and big name from the likes of musical titans such as Madonna, to Nobel Prize winning scientists such as Linus Pauling and controversial figures like Donald J Trump himself. Adrian's face is blank, as he reaches into a breast pocket and produces a time piece, flicking open the casing and bringing the face into his sight, before snapping the case shut and returning the device.''

"Will you be wanting either of us to come in with you Mr Blackhart?"

''Adrian acknowledges Jason's question with a simple turn of the head, Jason knowing his employer well enough to understand. He closes the open door of the Rolls and nods towards Adrian as he climbs back inside the driver's seat.''

"We'll be back waiting for you right here sir."

''The door closes and the Rolls engine comes to life, the car taking off an disappearing into the streets of Manhattan. Adrian walks towards the building, his very steps elegant and poised, with people coming and going stopping to stare at him, as if caught in a state of trance. Paying them no attention, he makes his way inside and heads to the marble front desk, occupied by three receptionists, two young women and a man not much older. Attracting the attention of one of the women, a pretty brunette girl with fair skin and a clear New York accent, Adrian stares down at her in silence. ''

"Can I help you sir?"

''Her tone is pleasant but with a clear ring of annoyance. Adrian calmly removed his shades and pockets them, his dark irises revealed, before his eyes briefly flashing of what could only be perceived as Hellfire. The girl seemed to stifle a cry, lest to attract the attention of her colleagues. ''

"My apologies sir, I'll call up and let them know you're on the way to them."

Adrian nods slightly, as she takes her phone off its cradle and punches in a quick internal code.

"Ashley? It's Kayleigh. Mr Blackhart is here to see Ms Olzon. He's on his way now."

She disconnects the call and places the headset back in the cradle, smiling up at Adrian.

"Please, go right on up, they're expecting you."

Adrian slowly nods once more.

"Thank you my dear."

''He speaks with an oddly clipped American-English accent, lingering briefly before making his way to the elevators. He presses the elevator button and patiently waits in silence before a 'ding' sounds out and the doors open. Adrian steps into the elevator and turns to face the floor buttons, pressing first sixty then six. The doors slowly close, the last thing before they shut a red flash emitting from Adrian's eyes. ''

"I couldn't care if was the ghost of Peewee Herman blowing on a tuba you were going to see at Madison Square Garden cause ya dead grandma had psionically sent you last minute tickets for tonight, I want that report on my desk by six!"

''Elizabet rolls her eyes as she waits outside the Editor's office, listening to him berate the latest employee. Clearly some people just couldn't cut it as a journalist. The tears start. 'Oh get a grip ' she thinks to herself as she waits, tapping her impeccably manicured nails on her clipboard. Turning the corner, an out of breath Eisley appears, almost running up Elizabet.''

"He's on his way Ms Olzon, Ashley just got the notice. What should we do?"

''Elizabet smirks and cups Eisley's cheek. ''

"Make sure to meet Mr Blackhart upon his arrival and escort him to my office. We cannot afford to keep him waiting, so no showing him to the visitors lounge or the sort. I'll head over there now. Are you clear on what I need from you?"

Eisley nods, albeit in her usual nervous way.

"Delightful. Now, hurry along."

''The elevator doors slide open, as Adrian steps into the Out Of Time foyer, immediately greeted with the reception desk several feet in front of him. As he makes his way to stride, he is approached from the side by a young woman with long brown hair, dressed in a white blouse, a dark pencil skirt and a pair of black heels that Adrian observes she seems uncomfortable walking in, raising an eyebrow at her.''

"Mr Blackhart. My name is Eisley, Eisley Haylock, Elizabet.....ummm.....Ms Olzons assistant. She's been made aware you're here for the interview and umm.....has sent me to bring you to her office."

''Adrian stays silent for a moment, with a growing expression on Eisley's face of panic, as if she is going to be the victim of some unfortunate circumstance at such a prominent figure being ordered that he will be received rather than met. ''

"Very well my dear. Lead the way."

''Eisley nervously nods, before making her way slowly through the building with Adrian in tow. Should any normal human step onto the sixty sixth floor then all they would see was a normal productive office, full of people that they wouldn't give a second thought to if they were to pass them on the street. But for one belonging to the supernatural, the true natures of the staff was revealed: the horns, the tails, the fangs. As they walked, Adrian looks down at Eisley, seeing nothing remotely uncharacteristic of a human about her, save her darker eyes.''

"And pray tell my dear, what might you be?"

''The answer is obvious to him, and as what he is referring to, but it only felt like polite conversation. Eisley stifles nervously, before quietly clearing her throat.''

"I'm.....ummm.....Ms Olzon's personal assistant sir. I make her appointments, fix her schedules, make, umm....tea...."

Adrian chuckles lightly, albeit with a sinister ring, Eisley apparently picking up on the meaning.

"Oh, I'm......I'm a Cambion, sir. My umm.....father was an Incubus, and my mother is human."

"They do say all Cambion are born beautiful, and their looks only develop as the grow. You are clearly no exception to the myth my dear."

Eisley turns bright red at the words, before turning into another hallway and coming to a door on the left hand side, knocking upon it.

"Come in."

''A pleasant silky voice comes from the other side of the door, as Eisley opens it, motioning Adrian to step through. He nods to her before passing into the room at her gesture. The office is not especially large but well decorated and modern, with the entirety of the back wall being the same plate glass used to cover the building, looking out and down onto the city below. Elizabet is not seated at the usual chair at her desk, but on one of the two leather sofas facing one another, casually laid out in an informal manner.''

"Mr Blackhart, so wonderful to finally meet in the flesh."

''She stands, offering her hand, to which Adrian quickly offers his own. Surveying her up and down, he notes her most immediate features; the pressed grey blouse, loose dress pants and heeled boots present a woman of business, but not one who takes herself so seriously. Her black hair cascades down in ringlets, complimenting her pale skin, while her icy blue eyes seem to almost stare inside him. And then the ultimate giveaway of what she truly is, the curved horns protruding from the sides of the head. She and Adrian sit, with her resuming her more informal position upon the sofa, placing her legs and feet up beside her as if on a chaise lounge. ''

"Would you care at all for a drink Mr Blackhart? Water, juice, coffee, tea? Or perhaps something more? Eisley, would you be a dear and fetch us some refreshments?"

Adrian pulls a cigar from his inner suit jacket and producing a flame from his own finger, lights the end, taking several puffs on it.

"I presume we may be here for some time Ms Olzon, so I would appear rude not to indulge. Perhaps a Cheaval Blanc 1947 St-Emilion would be fitting?"

He looks towards Eisley, once again seeing the panic setting in upon her face.

"Harvested from the finest grapes in the vineyards of Bordeaux, France. 110,000 bottles are all that has ever been produced, the cost per bottle...if my math crossed with inflation is correct.......$135,125.00 a bottle."

''At this point, Eisley again turns bright red, looking to Elizabet for help. Adrian once more chuckles.''

"I see young Miss Haylock here is perhaps unfamiliar with sarcasm. Just a glass of water if you please my dear."

Elizabet matches Adrian's chuckle.

"I was never told what a sense of humour you have Mr Blackhart. And I'll have the same Eisley dear, with a squeeze of lemon juice."

''She gestures Eisley leave to sort out the beverages, with the girl nodding and leaving the office, closing the door. Elizabet casts her gaze upon Adrian, relaxing back into the sofa.''

"So Mr Blackhart, I am so glad you agreed to this. While there are undoubtedly few who have not heard of you, I feel as if, as a person, we hardly know you at all. And we here at Out Of Time pride ourselves on uncovering truths and getting to know the man, or woman, behind the myth. We've interviewed some of the greats here, from past world leaders, to high profile actors; Keanu Reeves, a vampire, who knew? But somehow, you've proved more elusive than any to tie down. Why come to us now?"

''Adrian maintains a relaxed, but still proper form as he sits, noting Elizabet's ease into the furniture, the position in which she was sat. It was not surprising. She after all, was only a creature of her base desires being a Succubus, flirtation and sexuality was to them as blood was to a vampire.''

"I am aware I, as well as my family, have been a popular request to be interviewed by your readers for some time now.Before, I will admit I had little interest, but I also had a family to protect. I had to think of my girls, especially of my youngest. But they are all old enough now to make up their own minds about these things. I am not as young as I once was Ms Olzon, and I seem to have....mellowed over the ages. Perhaps it is time I make our community more aware of just......who I am."

The intrigue is clear upon Elizabet's face.

"Please, call me Elizabet. And I am sure our readers will be delighted to hear the news, and that they can expect full blown interviews not only from yourself but from your family, and perhaps even more."

At that moment, Eisley arrives back with two glasses of water, handing them out in turn, before taking a seat beside the sofas, anxiously holding a clipboard and seeming to wait.

"Please Elizabet, then I insist you call me Adrian. And thank you dear. Will you be joining us?"

Eisley once again blushes deeply, almost attempting to hide her face with her clipboard before realising she is a professional work environment.

"Eisley is currently learning what it takes to become a successful journalist, so I occasional let her sit in on my interviews and take notes. I thought this one in particular would not be an opportunity to miss for her, unless of course you have any objections?"

''Adrian shakes his head softly, before taking a sip of water and another puff of the cigar, blowing out convoluted rings of smoke. ''

"The pleasure of helping Miss Haylock to reach her goals would be all mine, it is always a gift to help one achieve their potential."

''Elizabet smiles softly, motioning with her gaze at Eisley to begin taking notes. Grabbing the pen in her hand and setting it to the paper, Eisley hastily obeys.''

"Wonderful. Now that we are all settled and topped with refreshments, shall we begin?"

"I thought you would never ask."

What is your full name, including any titles, aliases etc?
A: "If you are referring to the name given to me by my mother and father, I am afraid it is largely unpronounceable to all but those who speak the Black tongue."

E: "The black tongue?"

A: "The language spoken among the highest tertiary of the Underworld. Including my father, mother and myself, there are very few who do."

E: "Interesting, something I was not aware of. Do you have any official titles as such, being the son of the Devil himself?"

A: "Oh, many. Heir to the Brimstone Throne, Son of the Devil, the Antichrist, Prince of Darkness....."

E: "I thought Satan was the Prince of Darkness?"

A: "A common misconception. How can he be a Prince, when he is the ruler? If anything, father would be the King of Darkness, or the Lord or whatnot."

E: "Are you aware that for several decades now, Ozzy Osbourne has been the self-proclaimed Prince of Darkness?"

A: "Indeed. A blasphemous offence for which he will suffer eternally in the vilest of ways. Very soon."

E: "I see. So, why Adrian, and why Blackhart?"

A: "I've gone by many names over time. Adrian seems to be one that both fits in with modern society, but denotes a hint of devilishness. As for Blackhart, well, that came about due to the need for such a name. A play on words you see, the colour black, and a heart, suggesting a blackened heart, something often affiliated with evil, menace and the like."

E: "So was it a choice to miss out the E in heart?"

A: "Well, I didn't wish to make it too obvious."

Where and when exactly were you born?
A: "In what context are you asking when?"

E: ".....as in.....when.....a length of time...."

A: "Ah, of course. Well, the concept of 'time' does not exist beyond the realm of Earth."

E: "Oh. Well, I...."

A: "In the timeline of Earth, I have visited on and off for a good few thousand years, though more or less settled here around the mid seventeenth century. So I cannot confirm to you when it was exactly I was born. I can confirm however, that I was born and raised within the Ninth Circle of Hell."

E: "Ninth? I had no idea that Hell was divided into, circles?"

A: "Quite so. Nine in total. If Hell was just one giant pit, it would be somewhat disorganised no? Whatever faults my father may have, he is impeccably organised."

E: "So what are these circles?"

A: "Well, when one arrives in Hell, they find themselves in Limbo, the first Circle."

E: "But isn't Limbo a sort of, waiting room for souls to be organised into Heaven or Hell?"

Adrian chuckles.

A: "It is what those that wish to soften reality would have you wish. Heaven, is a very empty place. If one finds themselves in Limbo, then they are indeed in Hell, merely waiting to be assigned to a Circle, awaiting their everlasting torment. It is quite a boring place, not a lot going on. We also keep the Pagans there. Technically, they never did anything wrong."

Elizabet cocks her head curiously while Eisley furiously scribbles down notes.

A: "Then we have the second Circle, Lust, where souls are blown about in a violent storm, without hope of rest or respite. It is here that we put adulterers, sexual opportunists and predators. Then we move on to Gluttony, the third Circle. The gluttons are forced to lie in vile, freezing slush, guarded by Cerberus."

E: "The three-headed guard dog of the Underworld? He's real?"

A: "Very much so, and the very same. I would visit him often in my youth, he was, well, is such a good boy. Very fond of playing catch."

E: "With what exactly?"

A: "A ball. A rock. Body parts. Anyway, moving on. The fourth Circle is Avarice and Prodigality, or Greed. Lots of bankers, politicians. The miserly and spendthrifts much spend eternity pushing great weights up a hillside, only for the weight to prove too much and crush them. Over and over, again and again. Now, onto one of the favourites. The fifth Circle, Wrath and Sullenness. The wrathful spend eternity locked in combat with one another atop the River Styx, while the Sullen forever drown in it. Some marvellous shows, we have all the best warriors from history down there."

E: "So you view is as if in some Roman coliseum?"

A: "No, but that is an excellent idea, I will have to suggest it to father next I see him. I was always intrigued by the Romans, such an efficient bunch. And true believers to. Well, later on in their days. Anyway, onto the next. The sixth Circle is Heresy, where heretics and blasphemers are entombed in flaming coffins. I will make sure that a particularly special one if reserved for Mr Osbourne. Seventh Circle, Violence, another delight. The Circle is actually split into three rings as it were. In the outer ring are murderers, rapists etc, violence against others, sinking into boiling blood. The middle ring is reserved for suicides, violence against themselves, turned into bleeding trees. And the inner ring is for those who commit violence against my father or aunt. They reside in a burning desert, and are scorched by acid rain which constantly falls."

E: "It sounds.....delightful."

A: "Indeed. Moving on. The eighth Circle, Fraud. Now, this Circle is divided into ten 'bolgias', or stony ditches with bridges between them if you will. Each bolgia has a different kind of fraud and punishment, such as being whipped by Demons, steeped and buried alive in excrement and so on. And then finally onto my favourite, and of course, my birthplace and home away from home. The ninth Circle, Treachery. Now. The Circle is comprised of a lake of ice, with four levels, depending on the severity of the treason. But my father and his home reside beyond the bottom level, ironically where the ice ends and the Brimstone Castle begins. A most marvellous view from it I must say, able to see the entirety of Hell, as well as the victims of the fourth level of the lake, Brutus, Cassius and Judas, all stuck there in an icy monolith clinging to their skin."

''Elizabet tries to maintain composure, but looks rattled. Eisley looks as if she may be sick with horror.''

E: "And Mr Blackhart, if you don't mind my asking. You mentioned Heaven was rather empty. Are we all destined to go to Hell?"

A: "All? Yes. Humans? Definitely. See, there is a twist that my father had imposed. As all supernatural creatures, minus of course the Angels, are a creation of Hell, you will be sent there once dead. However, unless you are a particularly vile creature, and/or have immunity from eternal torture by being of Hell's Inner Circle, you'll live a fairly comfortable afterlife. Personal opinion, but Hell is a far better place to spend eternity than Heaven. Heaven is so.....white. And barren. And my aunt isn't much of a conversationalist."

E: "Well, that's a relief to know. Though, I do have a question if you'll indulge me?"

A: "By all means Ms Olzon."

E: "What happened to Hitler?"

A: "Oh, he's residing in the outer ring of Violence. As a particularly noxious individual, he is not only constantly sinking into the river of boiling blood, but there is an on-hand torturer to throw him a life ring, which upon contact spawns into several vipers whose venom delivers acid that could melt solid steel."

E: "Intriguing. And what about, say, someone like Stalin?"

A: "Avarice. Rather than a standard weight, he pushes a bag full of all the money he hoarded from the people of Russia, and when the bag eventually splits, he is both crushed by and suffocated under the mountain of coins."

E: "And when the time comes, where would you put President Trump?"

A: "I suppose it would be for my father to decide but if I was in charge,I would struggle to decide whether I'd send a piece of him to each Circle."