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Author's Notes and Chapter One New

canisaries

you should've known the price of evil
Location
Stovokor
Pronouns
she/her
Partners
  1. inkay-shirlee
  2. houndoom-elliot
  3. yamask-joanna
  4. shuppet
  5. deerling-andre
Hey there! This is a story that's an AU of my characters from Hunter, Haunted and its sequel The Bringer. However, this is entirely original fiction with no Pokémon to be seen. No knowledge of HH or its sequel is necessary as I have written this to work as a standalone (though it may be made into a series later on, depending on how things go), nor will this contain any spoilers for those stories.

The premise is that Andre and Red are now an angel and a demon respectively, and they're sentenced to a criminal rehabilitation program in Hell. Red is abrasive and hard to work with, but through several experiences together, the two grow closer. However, people seem to be mysteriously disappering in the program, and Red and Andre may be the ones that need to figure it out before it's too late...

This story skirts the line between teen and mature, but let's rate it mature to be safe. More precisely, I would say that this story is suitable for readers aged 16 and higher. It is not as gory as HH if you're worried about that.

However, it does contain the following things:
  • Strong language (including some slurs)
  • Blood and violence, minor gore, possible* body horror, death
  • Sexual themes (but no explicit sexual content)
  • Substance abuse (in backstory)
  • Domestic abuse (in backstory)
  • Fantasy xenophobia, homophobia and possibly* other forms of bigotry to a lesser extent (misogyny, ableism)
  • Depictions of mental illness
  • Mentions of or backstory involving sexual harassment and sexual assault
*The story isn't entirely planned out yet, so I can't be certain about this

With that out of the way, thank you for your attention thus far and enjoy reading Cor Daemonis!

---

Cor Daemonis

cordaemonis_cover_simple.png


Synopsis:
Andre, an angel from Heaven, is sentenced to an experimental criminal rehabilitation program in Hell. He is paired together with Red, an abrasive yet attractive demon with whom Andre must learn to work together in order to pass the program and avoid being sent to a real prison. Things get strange, however, as individual inmates start disappearing, and it may just fall on Andre and Red to figure out why.

Genre:
Fantasy, Drama, Romance, Mystery

Status:
Ongoing

Length:
TBD

---

CHAPTER ONE
Welcome to Hell, Part One


---

Red

Say it. Say it, say it, say it.


“...hereby sentence the defendant to the Woe State Young Adult Rehabilitation Program.”

The colossal weight that had been with Red ever since he’d first showed up in that courtroom took off like a cheerful embertit flying into the wide red sky. Finally, he thought. It’s over.

Of course, he already knew it was likely that he’d be sentenced to the YARP. The court had been discussing it, and his lawyer had been arguing for it. Still, to hear the judge announce it meant that it was official. That it could no longer be changed. Red hoped so, at least.

“What?” snapped a shrill voice, that of the woman. “You’re sending him to summer camp? He killed me!”

“Ms Chambers, settle down,” the bailiff said, raising a palm.

“No!” the blonde demoness screamed, standing up. Her lawyer tried to whisper something to her, but she ignored him. “He’s a monster! He’s a danger to everyone! He’s --”

She stopped briefly as she noticed the court security officers approaching… then locked eyes with Red.

“You!” She pointed a finger at the younger demon. “You little shit! I hope your body rots!”

Red felt too much anger to register the fear. He was, fortunately, also too tired to start arguing.

A hand touched Red’s shoulder. He turned his head to see his lawyer smiling at him. Red relaxed somewhat.

Once Ms Chambers was removed from the room and the hearing wrapped up, though, Red remembered the full context of his situation.

Even once - if - he completed the YARP, he had nothing left.

---

Andre

Heaven was a lovely place.

Yeah, well, of course it was a lovely place. Of course the realm good humans were sent to after their first death was wonderful - they had to be rewarded for their virtuous deeds on Earth. Andre simply hadn’t fully realized how great the place was until he’d been sentenced to leave it.

The city of Paradise, the capital of Heaven, was an even mix of radiant white, inoffensive pale gray and vibrant green. White were the buildings, made of the finest marble; gray were the streets, impeccably smooth; green was the lush vegetation that thrived in the warm sun and pure, fresh air. It was a sight that the people of Earth only knew in their collective imagination, unaware or at least uncertain that it was very much real.

The cars here were not growling beasts that spit noxious gas, but pleasantly humming vehicles that ran only on pure holy energy supplied by Arukei Himself. They drove themselves, safely and intelligently, upon a simple command - the ideal that the humans down below were certainly trying to replicate, but were still some decades away from.

Further yet were the automatons that walked the streets, built by angels to ease their burden of caring for the humans this place had been created for. Andre saw from the window of the car as one such ‘aut’ waved back to a cheerful little angel walking alongside her father. At least she was having a good time.

Andre sighed and leaned back in his seat. He realized how comfortable it was. While it was no more or less comfortable than any other seat in Heaven, it was practically guaranteed to be leagues better than whatever he’d be sitting on in Hell.

Uncomfortable seats were the least of his worries, though. Hell was… well, Hell.

The prison escort next to Andre cleared her throat, bringing the young angel back to the present. Right. Maybe being in the present was the best thing Andre could do right now. Arukei knew he had to savor every second he had left here.

Andre took a deep breath and leaned onto the window again, appreciating all the green, knowing there would be nothing of that color in Hell…

---​

They arrived at Andre’s apartment complex in Blisstown, a district of Paradise in the southwest. The complex was a pristine white building like all the other ones, ten stories tall. Andre lived on the third floor, and that’s where he headed, one prison escort walking ahead and one behind.

At the door, Andre’s handcuffs were finally taken off. Andre relished his freed wrists for a moment, then fished out his keys and unlocked the door. He’d barely taken three steps into the apartment before Ellie, his sister, hurried out of the bedroom to see him.

She looked terrible. Her hair, the same shade of caramel brown as Andre’s, was a mess, and her eyes were puffy and reddened. She wore just a hoodie and sweatpants - which people were free to wear as far as Andre was concerned, but it was still unusual for a member of the Duval family. Even the usually golden light that formed the wings and halo of an angel was now dim and sickly pale on her. Had she been like this the entire time he’d been in custody? She had sounded tired in the phone calls. How long would she be like this after he was gone?

Ellie stood there with an unreadable look on her face, utterly silent. Then, without a warning, she rushed to Andre, practically pouncing on him to wrap her arms around him in a hug. She squeezed him tight, and Andre squeezed her in return. Even if there was a smell to Ellie by now, he didn’t want to let go.

His sister. His little sister. Would she really be fine without her big brother to watch her back?

“In case I forget,” she suddenly spoke up - with a terribly croaky voice - “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Andre said.

They stayed like that for at least a full minute. It was only once one of the prison escorts cleared his throat and said that they were on a schedule did the siblings dare to let go.

“Right,” Ellie said quietly. Andre adjusted his glasses, which had gotten a little crooked from the impact of the hug.

Ellie sniffed, then looked at Andre again. “I’ve been packing for you,” she said, heading for the bedroom, and Andre followed. “And I got you some stuff that I think you’re gonna need in Hell, like a toothbrush. You're not gonna have holy mouthwash there, you know?”

“Right,” Andre said. He hadn’t even thought of how his dental care would be different. “Thanks. I’m sure that’ll come in handy.”

Ellie nodded. They entered the bedroom, where a large black duffel bag, large enough to fit a person, sat on the bed. It was almost full. The topmost item was Andre’s current sketchbook. Would Andre even be allowed that where he was going? Well, it was worth a try.

“I put in plenty of clothing - lighter stuff, since I know Hell is warm - and all the toiletries,” Ellie said, “and aspirin, too. And the case for your glasses, with the cloth for cleaning the lenses inside. And your sketchbook and drawing utensils, obviously. I left some space, though, if you have anything else you wanna put in, like books or whatever.”

“Thank you. You’ve been a big help.”

Ellie nodded, sniffing again.

Andre sighed. Alright. What would he want with him in Hell, in the rehabilitation center? Books were a good starting point. Was there anything else he’d like to have? He couldn’t think of anything. Books it was, then. But which books?

He moved out of the bedroom and into the living room to study the bookcases. There were so many good books to choose from. After weighing his options, though, he decided to go for his copy of History of Earth - a massive book, more to read - and a couple of his favorite stories, including the book Katie had written.

God, Katie. Katie had been furious with him. Like they’d never even been friends. Like the Andre she’d known had been revealed to be a total fabrication, and since the truth had come to life, he had ceased to exist. But no, Andre was indeed the person she had known - had been ever since they’d met. He just also happened to be a Blackwing.

Andre hoped she would one day forgive him, whether he found out about it or not.

He brought the books he chose to the bag in the bedroom and packed them. After taking another minute to think very hard about if there was something else he needed after all, he decided that was it, and zipped up the bag. He lifted it up - good god, it was heavy - and brought it to the living room.

“Alright,” said the male prison escort, “are you done?”

“You might wanna hit the bathroom,” the female prison escort said. “It’s a long trip.”

The man gave the woman a disapproving glance.

“It’s just more convenient for everyone,” she said back, voice lowered.

Right. Andre knew that they hated him. Of course they would - they were on the opposite side of the law. And if they knew only that he was a Blackwing and not what he’d actually done in the organization, they could have thought that he’d done far worse things than he really had. But those Blackwings were a blight. It was a great injustice that they’d all been lumped together by the general public.

Either way, he took the woman’s advice. After he emerged from the bathroom, a sense of finality filled him - more than it already had. He took a long look at his apartment, his home for three years. He’d furnished it with care, to really make it a space he felt was his, yet to also make it inviting to the many, many men and women he’d brought in.

God. Sex was another thing he’d have to leave behind, at least for the duration of the rehabilitation program. If he passed. Though surely he would pass. He could be very obedient if he wanted to.

Another clearing of the throat from the male prison escort brought the end to that train of thought. Okay. It was time to go.

He placed his keys, phone and wallet on the living room table. He wouldn’t be needing those anymore. Then, he turned to Ellie. Ellie understood and walked over to hug him again. This time, though, both of them knew not to draw it out too much. The hug only lasted five seconds. Andre took a few more seconds afterwards, though, to really get a good look at Ellie. His last look ever. He had to memorize every detail, even if she wasn’t in the most presentable state. He’d rather have that than forget.

Then he picked up the duffel bag and headed for the door.

“Wait,” said Ellie. Andre turned to her, and the male prison escort sighed. “You remember my address, right? So you’ll know where to write.”

“Don’t worry,” Andre said. “I wrote it down in my sketchbook. And memorized it anyway, just in case.”

A small smile appeared on Ellie’s lips. “Okay. Good.”

Andre paused for a moment, then took a deep breath in and let it out. This was it. While there were still many things he would have liked to say, it was simply time to go.

“Goodbye,” he said.

“Goodbye,” Ellie replied.

With that, Andre and his escorts left.

---​

The prison escort vehicle brought Andre to the portal facility. It was a white building, but not like the white buildings of the city ten kilometers away in every direction. It was a large concrete block whose only windows were tiny ones right below the roof. It was surrounded by a parking lot, which was surrounded by a tall metal fence, which was surrounded by a second metal fence fifty meters further, and a final, third fence another fifty meters further. Guards, angel and aut, patrolled the barren ground while heaven-hounds soared above.

Needless to say, the portal was very well protected. It had to be if Heaven and Hell were to be kept separate, which was the will of Arukei. Andre didn’t know if he liked that. Sure, he knew that sinners had to be restricted to Hell as a sanction and to keep them away from the virtuous people of Heaven, and he knew that demons were rumored to be selfish and violent, but what if those rumors were false? Andre knew enough about Earth to know that humans liked to spread falsehoods about people different from them, like to say they were less civilized. What if angels did the same with demons? What if the demons were good people, or at least alright people, and were still damned to a life of misery in… well, Hell?

Andre generally found it frustrating how little he actually knew about Hell, even if he knew more than most of Heaven’s population. He’d been curious. Unfortunately, discussing Hell was a taboo, sometimes even illegal. Open conversation of it was mostly limited to schools, to one specific lesson, which parents could opt their children out of. Andre had only been allowed to go after persistent whining to his parents, who had ultimately decided to honor Andre’s autonomy as a fifteen-year-old.

Not that that lesson told much of anything. Hell existed because sinners needed a place to be punished for the sins of their first life, demons existed to torment them, there were tiers to the punishments sinners received, holy energy didn’t work there so they had to rely on electricity, they had a democratic society where only demons could be elected, but capitalism was rampant and regulation was minimal so you were more likely to pay to get your way than vote, and on top of that, crime was abundant. Everything was red from the skies to the ground to the plants, and the temperature ranged from warm to hot to searing hot. Overall a terrible place to live that was better off forgotten, unless you were going to work in a profession that actually required knowledge about it or, Arukei have mercy, contact with it. Or you were stupid enough to commit a crime bad enough to get sent there as a prisoner.

Well, Andre knew which one he was.

The parking lot had quite a few vehicles parked there. Andre figured it must have been because they were transporting a bunch of Blackwings at the same time. Maybe he’d see a familiar face or two? Then again… Blackwing was a large organization. And Andre had only had regular contact with about ten of them.

He wasn’t even guaranteed to meet any Blackwings at the rehabilitation facility he had been sentenced to. He had been told before that he wouldn’t be going to the angel penitentiaries of Hell like the others since they were over capacity with this recent Blackwing bust, but instead this experimental one meant for demons, which was similar enough in its level of humaneness. Andre didn’t know if it was better or worse than the angel prisons, but at least he was thankful that they hadn’t just said ‘fuck it’ and thrown him in the torment facilities.

They exited the car, Andre still in handcuffs. The male prison escort took Andre’s bag to carry. They made their way to the large metal doors of the facility and, after one last identity check by a guard, passed through.

The first room of the portal facility resembled the waiting area of an airport, only more oppressive with the aforementioned tiny windows so high up. Andre waited there until he was called to another room for a vaccination, and then he was taken to the next room, where he and his belongings were checked for metal. He passed, and they took him to the final room, where the portal itself was.

The portal was like a glowing, vertical pool of dense gases of various shades of red, slowly swirling. A decorative frame, made of gold with little figures of demons carved on it, encircled the pool. Frame included, the portal was three meters in diameter, but still comfortably fit in the five-meter-tall room, which this time had no windows at all. It emitted a low hum, and the air in the room seemed a bit warmer than in the waiting area. Some wires ran along the floor from the portal to a machine that an official stood by. It didn’t look like Heaven tech, rather more like the computers that Earth had had about forty years ago. Must have been from Hell, and hooked up to another Infernal machine on the other side of the portal.

The official pressed some buttons. “Andre Duval,” she then called out. “Your turn to go through. Close your eyes when you do so. They may become irritated otherwise.”

Andre sighed. Right. With the female escort in front and the male escort in back, he walked up to the portal. The woman didn’t even flinch as she stepped through - this was routine to her. Encouraged by that, at least somewhat, Andre took a deep breath, closed his eyes and stepped through himself.

The portal felt like a warm, dense fog against his skin and a bit tingly. As he passed through, though, it suddenly felt cool. When the feeling left entirely, Andre dared to open his eyes.

What he saw wasn’t very shocking. It was a room that was basically the same as the one he’d just left, except the walls were dark gray instead of white and the lights above were a bit warmer in tone and buzzed quietly. Andre followed the female escort until she stopped and turned around. Andre also did the same and noticed that the portal appeared white - with faint tinges of all colors of the rainbow - from this side. He squinted to view the golden frame and saw that the figures were now angels instead of demons. Made sense.

The male escort had also passed through without trouble. Once he caught up, the official in the room - an angel, Andre had been expecting a demon - looked up from their machine, one identical to the machine from Heaven’s side. “Name?”

“Andre Duval,” the female escort said.

The official checked their machine, then nodded. “You’re good to go. Welcome to Hell.”

The female escort nodded back and began heading for the door. Andre and the male escort followed her and exited the room with the same opening of the door. There was another metal detector in the next room, and Andre and his belongings were subjected to yet another check. Come on, overkill much? He did find it interesting how much more rudimentary this detector looked, though. Another electronic device instead of something that ran on holy energy. He hoped it wasn't carcinogenic or anything.

The next room was the waiting area, but there were far fewer seats here than on Heaven's side, and they were red instead of blue. The walls were dark gray and the lights above were electric, like in the portal room, but now there were windows again. They, too, were small and just under the ceiling, but what shone through was not a blue sky, but a crimson one. Its glow made all the colors and shadows in the room look just a little bit… eerie. But Andre would just have to get used to that. He would be seeing a lot of it.

The three of them walked straight through the room and out of the building. Once the outside hair enveloped Andre, he noticed two things - the heat, which Andre guessed to be somewhere around 30 degrees centigrade, and the stench. Rotten eggs. Must have been sulphur - more archaically known as brimstone. His nose wrinkled, but he couldn’t exactly pinch it with his hands cuffed. Whatever. The more he breathed in, the sooner he’d get desensitized to it, anyway.

Like the Heavenside facility, this facility seemed to be situated in a barren zone. It was also encircled by three tall fences and patrolled by guards, though now they were only angels, no auts or flying hounds to be seen, and the ground was dark red instead of pale. At the very edge of the zone, some gray skyscrapers rose from the horizon.

They circled to the parking lot, where one car was leaving, its gasoline-powered motor as loud as Andre knew them to be from what he’d seen of Earth. Must have been the previous prisoner. Andre wondered which ride would be theirs until he spotted someone leaning on his car, its doors open, while smoking a cigarette and checking his watch. Someone with no wings or halo, but red skin and horns. A bona fide demon.

Immediately, Andre reminded himself not to stare. He didn’t know the exact social etiquette of Hell, but he couldn’t imagine even demons appreciating someone gawking at them. The escorts didn’t seem fazed, however. They must have seen countless demons by now. The female escort led them to the driver, and Andre’s nose wrinkled further from the reek of the cigarette.

“Lessee…” said the demon, his voice rough. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and dug a piece of paper from the pocket of his loose t-shirt. “Andre Duval,” he read. “Is that your scrawny boy’s name?”

Scrawny boy? Andre had to feel a bit indignant at that.

The demon looked at him and squinted. “Is that even a boy?”

Andre’s expression became sourer, and the demon laughed. It didn’t seem good-natured.

It wasn’t like Andre was insecure about the fact that he looked androgynous, though. In fact, he’d always liked that about himself - he liked being ‘that pretty boy’. He’d grown his hair out to chin length, used the nicest conditioner and brushed his hair carefully to bring out the best in its waves. He even wore vanilla-scented perfume…

Well, he used to maintain himself like that. In police custody, it hadn’t been possible - hell, he hadn’t even been able to clean his glasses in a long time. Nevertheless, from that glimpse he’d gotten of himself in the mirror back at his apartment, he still looked good. Thank god for that small comfort.

The female escort cleared her throat. “Yes. This is Andre Duval. You will be transporting us to the Crimson Plains Criminal Rehabilitation Center, correct?”

“Yup,” the demon said. “Gonna be about three hours. We’ll take a pit stop around the halfway point, eat somethin’. Sound good?”

“Sounds satisfactory,” the female escort said.

The demon laughed again, more subdued this time. “‘Satisfactory’. You angel folk and your fancy words…”

He took one last drag of his cigarette, then raised his tail - a thin, red, scaly tail - up to waist height and pressed the cigarette against the hardened, arrow-shaped tip before tossing it on the ground. From the numerous circular black marks, it seemed that he did this a lot.

They boarded the car. It seemed that the chauffeur smoked near it, or even inside it, often. Andre sighed, but told himself the same thing again - he would get used to it. He wasn’t sure if the lack of air conditioning would pan out, though…

As they drove out of the lot, Andre also wondered where exactly the chauffeur kept his tail when he was driving. Actually, maybe demons could just make their tails disappear at will. Angels could hide their wings and halos if they wanted to. Not that those things were made of anything tangible to begin with. But he certainly wasn’t going to ask the chauffeur about his tail, no. He didn’t think that would go over very well.

They made it through the three gates without trouble. Andre was identified each time like he’d been in Heaven, and then they were on their way to the actual city. Slowly, the skyscrapers grew in size until Andre saw what those strange colorful squares on them were - advertisements.

Right. This would be the capitalism Andre had heard about. He'd seen it on Earth before. It depressed him to know that a large number of both humans and demons had fallen into the same trap of giving into their greed and made it their mission to accrue as much currency as they could with little regard for others.

Currency existed in Heaven, too, sure. Two of them, even - one for necessities and the other for luxuries. But you received necessity currency, N-credits, from the government no matter what you did, and it was calculated to be enough to let that person or family live a healthy life. Only luxury currency, L-credits, was something you had to gain through work. And there were no companies - only the government and individual citizens.

Andre was sure that it would sound nightmarish and authoritarian to some on Earth and likely also Hell, but it seemed to work well enough. No one lacked food or water or shelter or medical care, but the angels still had incentive to go out and do the jobs that were necessary to keep Heaven operational. Well, it was helped by the fact that angels, as was widely known, had a stronger natural sense of justice and duty than humans and, presumably, demons. If there was a shortage of workforce in some essential field, angels would happily volunteer.

The car slowly reached the city. Like in Heaven, the buildings existed like the barren zone wasn’t there at all - no petering out, just buildings as densely as anywhere else and then suddenly nothing. The sounds of traffic surged from a distant hum to a cacophony of growling motors and honking horns. Sometimes people yelled, to go already because the light was green or to notice that one was walking on the crosswalk. A police siren blared out in the distance. How did the demons bear all this noise?

Andre tried to focus on the sights instead. The advertisements that did their best to try and persuade the viewer to consume their products via garish colors and lights and animations. Eat our burgers. Drink our cola. Smoke our cigarettes. Look at -- wait, what?

Was that porn? Hardcore pornography in the full view of the public? Was this… a special part of town?

Andre looked at the citizens walking around. Demons with red skin, demons with goat legs, demons with bat wings, demons with snake heads, demons that seemed to be a collection of wriggling tentacles in humanoid form… some wore ragged clothes, others very colorful clothes, others very revealing clothes, others nothing at all, their breasts and/or genitals on full display. Some of the demons looked like children. But surely they couldn’t be children, not with these… obscenities around, right?

“Excuse me, sir,” Andre spoke up, leaning forward towards the chauffeur. Screw being cautious, he needed to know. “Does Hell not have laws against… public nudity and display of obscene material?”

“Whah?” The chauffeur glanced over his shoulder, then back to the road. “No, why would we?”

“Well, because… the children might see.”

”And?”

Andre couldn’t think of a way of explaining why he thought that was bad to a person who was so clearly unbothered by it. “Never mind,” he said.

“Tch. Angels,” the chauffeur muttered.

The ride continued in silence. As time passed, the skyscrapers outside Andre’s window disappeared, the advertisements let up and the buildings, gray and red, became smaller and further apart. Actual vegetation began to show in places on the ground in colors of red and yellow, but never green. Their travel speed grew as the traffic waned, and soon they were in what seemed like an industrial area with factories and warehouses. Tall smokestacks rose up high, spewing dark smoke into the otherwise clear red sky. Andre sighed - that couldn’t have been good for the environment. Then again, he didn’t know enough about Infernal ecology to be sure.

Out of the industrial area, there were acres and acres of crops. They resembled wheat and corn, the former of which was actually the normal yellow, though the corn, still growing, was brown in its stalk and leaves.

The stage at which these crops were seemed to suggest the end of summer, which made sense, as it was the same season in Heaven as well. Although… did Hell actually have seasons? It was always warm, right? It could have been slightly less warm during the winter, though. Andre supposed that was determined by what kind of planet Hell was… if it was even a planet, and not just a flat plane floating somewhere. Was the sun a real sun, or just a light that moved? How about the moon? Did they have a moon?

God. He’d have a lot to read about once they made it to the rehab center - if they had books there to begin with. If this place was supposed to be more humane than the other ones, then Andre would put his hopes in that.

Eventually, the time came for the pit stop. Andre was very grateful for this, as his stomach was empty and his bladder was full. The pit stop was a gas station with a restaurant named ‘Snake Pit Stop’, which Andre may have chuckled at if he were in a better mood. He was escorted men’s bathroom - Hell still had that distinction, it seemed - and had his cuffs taken off, thankfully. What he wasn’t thankful for was the absolutely rancid state of the bathroom. Regardless, he managed to do his business, even if he wasn’t sure the yellowish water really washed his hands. He did smell them afterwards, and they seemed fine. Hopefully they were. Getting sick would make his stay in the center even worse.

After that, it was time for lunch. Andre looked at the menu of the restaurant at the counter and noticed a significant lack of greens - well, they weren’t green here - even compared to Earth’s past. Maybe demons had a more protein-rich diet, or maybe there was a culture of toxic masculinity that belittled the consumption of plants. The latter did sound like Hell to him. Regardless, he got a cheeseburger. He could use some comfort food, anyway.

It was only when he was halfway through eating it that he realized something.

“Oh, fuck,” he said, placing the burger down on his plate like it was diseased.

“What?” the chauffeur asked before sipping on his coffee.

“This meat is from real animals, isn’t it?” Andre said.

The chauffeur looked confused for a second, then laughed. “Good one!”

Andre’s stomach twisted further. “It’s not a joke! H-Heaven uses ethically cultivated lab meat so that no real animals have to be --”

The chauffeur laughed harder. “God, you’re serious?”

“Yes, he’s serious,” the female escort said flatly.

Andre looked at the angel, then the burger on her plate. “You aren’t bothered by this?” he asked.

She shrugged. “It’s Hell. They’re like Earth. They don’t have the technology to do differently yet.”

Andre did know well that Earth still ate real animals, even if more and more people had realized the ethical problems with it. He just hadn’t put two and two together. He’d been too hungry.

“Don’t worry about it,” the female escort said. “It’s not up to you. They don’t have any plant proteins on the menu, and you’re gonna have even less choice once you’re at the rehab center. And you can’t starve yourself.”

“I wouldn’t object to that,” the male escort muttered.

Andre thought about the woman’s words. He supposed she was right. While it still disgusted him to think that the piece of meat on his plate had come from something with an actual nervous system that felt stress and pain… he needed to eat, and he just didn’t have any options.

He picked up the burger and began eating again. He almost gagged a few times, but he managed to finish it nonetheless. It haunted him that it had still kind of tasted good.

“Atta boy,” the chauffeur said, then got up with a grunt. “I’m gonna go ahead so I can have a smoke.”

“Acknowledged,” the male escort said, at which the chauffeur snickered before taking his tray and leaving.

The rest of them left not long after. It was then back to the car that reeked of smoke, which didn’t help Andre keep down his horrid food, but he managed nonetheless. After fifteen minutes, they arrived in the state of Woe, its flag bearing a white crying peacock - maybe a reference to local folklore, Andre didn’t know - and after another hour, they arrived at a place called the Plains of Despair, which the chauffeur announced. Apparently, they were the ‘crimson plains’ of Crimson Plains Criminal Rehabilitation Center. Looking around, there certainly were plains and they certainly were crimson. Not a tree in sight.

“Lovely names these places have,” the male escort said.

“It’s Hell,” the chauffeur said. “We have a brand.”

Fifteen minutes passed in silence. Then something appeared in the horizon - buildings. As they approached, Andre saw that it was a complex of ash-gray buildings surrounded by a tall metal fence topped with barbed wire.

“Is that the place?” Andre asked the chauffeur.

“Yup,” the demon answered.

Suddenly, dread flooded Andre’s mind.

This was the place. This would be his prison. He would not be able to leave before four months, and if he fucked things up, he’d only be leaving for a much worse place.

The thought occurred to him that he could attempt an escape. That would have, however, only stayed an attempt, and Andre was aware of that. There was no way he was going to succeed, not when there were two escorts way more athletic than him tasked with making sure that he’d only go wherever he was allowed to go.

So that was it, then. The indisputable beginning of his new life. He didn’t know how miserable it would be, but he wasn’t naive enough to think that it wouldn’t be a massive downgrade from the life he’d known before.

All he could do was watch as they approached the gates of the facility, his unease growing by the second.

---​
 
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