Author's Notes and Chapter One - Welcome to Hell
canisaries
you should've known the price of evil
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:
Then, also, a word about feedback preferences:
With that out of the way, thank you for your attention thus far and enjoy reading Cor Daemonis!
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.
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?
“It’s good to see you,” she suddenly spoke up, with a terribly croaky voice.
“It’s good to see 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, Girlfiends. It was a lovely and hilarious story about two competing female private investigators on Earth whose incredible sexual tension eventually led them to become a couple.
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, women and enbies he’d brought in.
God. Sex was another thing he’d have to leave behind. He couldn’t ever see himself sleeping with a demon, even less so in what was still essentially a prison. If they really were as violent as they said, there’s no way the sex could be safe.
The image of a demon, gender irrelevant, putting their hands on his bare chest flashed in Andre’s mind and he buried it. No. It wouldn’t be safe, so it was bad. Dangerous. He shouldn’t be thinking of it. It was self-destructive.
Another clearing of the throat from the male prison escort brought a merciful 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 understood why… to an extent. He knew that sinners had to be restricted to Hell as a sanction and to keep them away from the virtuous people of Heaven. He also knew that demons were said to be violent and selfish and difficult to coexist with, but… if they were simply born that way, was it really their fault? Should they really be locked away to suffer in their own dystopia? Heaven always said that helping others was the greatest virtue, but when anyone ever said anything about helping demons, they were shamed and ridiculed for being so naive. That demons would just drag you down with them. And then you’d get in trouble with the law for discussing Hell so openly…
Why did it have to be that way, anyway? Why couldn’t they talk about Hell, when Earth had horrible things happen every day, and they could discuss those? Admittedly, they couldn’t discuss even those excessively lest the virtuous be ‘demoralized’...
At least they were given the basics about Hell in that one lesson in school in ninth grade. Thank Arukei Andre was allowed to attend. Otherwise, he might have never found out things such as the fact that Hell was a democracy. Or claimed to be a democracy. Apparently, the real power came from money. Capitalism was rampant and regulation was minimal. As a result, the lower classes often turned to crime, which made daily life rather dangerous. Nothing like Heaven, where any crime came as a shock, and something like this Blackwing bust that had led to Andre’s arrest was a historical event.
Would Andre even be able to survive in Hell? What would happen to him if his body was killed before his soul could expire? Would anyone care to bring him to a regeneration center? Did they even have those there? Well, if they did, they certainly wouldn’t be cheap…
Andre’s rumination was cut short by the stray observation that 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’d been told before that he wouldn’t be going to the angel penitentiaries of Hell like the others since they were over capacity due to the 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 - well, obviously, as holy energy didn’t work in Hell. 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 Arukei 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.
Self-destructive… just like you, a thought taunted Andre. He shook his head and forced himself to focus on other things.
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 they were simply used to their own society’s way of functioning to see the benefits of the Celestial model. In Heaven, 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? And not just porn, but hardcore, degrading 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, thankfully still clothed, 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 to the men’s bathroom - Hell still had that distinction, it seemed - and thankfully had his cuffs taken off, but something he wasn’t thankful for was the absolutely rancid state of the bathroom. The pungent stench in the room of grimy, cracked tiles threatened to made Andre vomit, but he managed to do his business nevertheless. He wasn’t sure, though, if the yellowish water really washed his hands. Andre did smell them afterwards once he was out of that horrid room, and they seemed fine, so hopefully they were. Getting sick would make his stay in the rehab 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.
Andre’s dread surged.
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.
Eventually, they arrived.
At the gates of the facility, Andre was identified for what he hoped by now would be the last time that day. This time, however, it was a demon that identified him rather than an angel. Andre had the time to think about how he might not see another angel for a very long time if ever after his escorts left - but driving past the entrance of the first building, those worries were put to rest.
An angel stood by the front door. Judging by the card hanging by his neck, he was part of the staff. Must have been someone sent from Heaven to supervise what was going on. Though Andre couldn’t see why. He’d thought this experiment was Hell’s own. Why would Heaven be interested in this?
The car entered the parking lot beside the main building. The chauffeur parked the car, and Andre and the escorts got out, the male escort carrying Andre’s luggage. The chauffeur stayed put, though. He’d wait for the escorts to return and then take them back to Heaven.
Andre was escorted to the angel by the door, and he finally got a better look at him. The angel was a white man, somewhere in his thirties, with gray-blue eyes and blond hair neatly combed back. He was tall and somewhat burly with a square face, though his imposing figure was sharply contrasted by his friendly smile. His halo was thick and hexagonal, spinning in a relaxed manner with a healthy golden glow. He wore casual clothes - a white t-shirt and khaki shorts. Not a uniform? Was that allowed?
“Welcome!” he said. “You’re Andre, right?”
“That’s me,” Andre said. “Can I, uh, ask something?”
“Sure thing! What’s on your mind?”
“Are you… I mean… what do you do here? As an angel in Hell, I mean.”
“Well, I’m here as a missionary,” he said. “Right now, though, they want me to help out at this rehabilitation center. Name’s Samson, by the way. Pleasure to meet you!”
Missionary. Andre realized then that the staff card wasn’t the only thing hanging from the angel’s neck - there was also a golden pendant shaped like the head of a mountain goat with horns that connected in a loop. Arukei’s symbol.
Well, in any case, it was nice that at least someone was being friendly towards Andre. Then again… it was unnerving. Shouldn’t any angel who knew that he was a Blackwing hate him?
“It’s… nice to meet you too,” Andre said nevertheless.
“You know, you’re not the only angel we have in this program,” Samson said. “Maybe you two can become friends! He seemed like a nice enough boy.”
“Was he a, uh, Blackwing too…?”
Samson shook his head. “Not that I know of. He’s in here for something else. It would be rude of me to disclose that without his permission, though, so you’ll have to ask him yourself.”
Andre nodded. “Right.”
Samson looked like he was about to say something else, but his eyes veered past Andre. Andre turned around himself and noticed that another prisoner had shown up with his own escorts.
This prisoner was another demon, but this demon… was different.
This demon, an Eastern young man - Hojoan, perhaps - was exactly like the type of studded-leather-jacket-wearing bad boy heartthrobs Andre had drooled over in his teenage years. Only with, you know, long curved white horns, the ears and feet of a black-furred canine and an arrow-tipped tail that whipped in annoyance. He had long black hair that crashed into his broad shoulders, and his jacket was open to show a white shirt with a low neckline resting on top of some well-trained pecs.
Andre realized he was staring and averted his gaze. Damn it. Hadn’t he just hours ago decided that it was dangerous to be attracted to a demon?
“Can you two bird boys quit your chirping?” someone said. Andre looked back as he spoke - it was the prisoner. “I don’t have all day.”
Well, that definitely helped in making him less attractive. “W-we’re done,” Andre got out, glancing at Samson. “Go ahead.”
Samson was no longer smiling, but he stepped aside nonetheless. “Welcome to the Crimson Plains Criminal Rehabilitation Center,” he said in a neutral tone.
“Sure,” the prisoner muttered and walked past Samson through the door. His escorts, both male demons in uniform, followed after. One of them carried a duffel bag similar to Andre’s own, but green.
Samson sighed. “Well, you’d better head in, too. The assembly is beginning soon.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Samson,” Andre said, and Samson smiled in response.
Andre and his escorts walked through the door. There was another metal detector at the end of the room they entered, and it seemed that the demon prisoner was having some trouble.
“You’re gonna need to take off everything with metal in it,” the demoness attending the detector said - for the second time, judging by the emphasis.
“And I told you that that’s everything I’m wearing,” the prisoner growled. “Can’t you just pat me down like everyone else before this?”
The monitor shook her head. “Take them off.”
The prisoner’s fists clenched. His escorts and the monitor tensed up. Andre tensed up, too. Was he going to get violent?
Eventually, however, the prisoner sighed. “Fine,” he said, releasing the tension in Andre’s body before quickly returning it by looking directly at Andre. “You are going to look away, though. I don’t want any queers eyeing my body.”
Well, then. Thoroughly unattractive now.
Andre turned around. He was already going to do it before, anyway. It wasn’t right to stare at someone who was being forced to strip against their will. Even if that person would probably look really --
Holy Arukei, Andre thought. Do not think like that.
It took a minute or two for the prisoner to make it through the metal check, and then came Andre’s turn, which passed much more quickly. His escorts were left behind, along with his handcuffs, and he now had to carry his own luggage. He was given directions to the gymnasium by a guard, and he found his way there without issue. The gymnasium, which actually looked pretty normal, had about thirty demons standing and chattering there - and one angel.
He was thin and boyish with well-groomed blond hair like Samson’s, and he wore neat clothes. His halo was a smooth ring and his wings were small and shaped like those of a songbird. He struck Andre as… eighteen years old, or younger. But minors would go to a different place, right?
Regardless, Andre began making his way towards the angel, thinking he’d be safer with him - but then he saw a demon climb onto the stage at the front of the gymnasium. Given the brown suit he was wearing, he was clearly someone in charge. Andre stopped and turned to the stage.
The demon, a tall black man of sepia complexion, had short black hair, a trimmed beard and large red-black-striped horns, but his most striking feature was his eyes, which had deep red sclerae and yellow irises. Despite the demon’s eerie gaze, Andre found himself fighting off even more indecent thoughts. Damn it, was there something in Hell’s air making him more amorous than usual? Besides, even if dancing with demons wasn’t dangerous, trying to flirt with someone in charge would probably end poorly for him. In fact… should he keep his sexual orientation a secret in general? He didn’t like the idea of hiding it, but if that demon from before was any indication, homophobia was still alive and well in Hell…
The demon on the stage cleared his throat, and Andre told himself to focus. This would likely be important.
“Everyone,” he said, his voice deep and masculine, “settle down.” As the chatter trailed off and the crowd turned to face the stage, he continued. “Thank you. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Gideon Ronove, and I am the head supervisor of this program. I will be supervising the operations of this facility for the duration of the program, or the next four months. I hope that these four months will pass smoothly.”
A pause. “Now, more about the program. You likely know this by now, but in case you don’t: the Woe State Young Adult Rehabilitation Program, or the YARP for short, is an experimental program meant for first-time offenders between the ages of 18 and 25 whose crimes were severe but committed for quote-unquote ‘understandable’ reasons. Unlike traditional prisons, this program seeks to rehabilitate you rather than punish you. There will still be restrictions placed on your daily life, but these are for reasons of security rather than an attempt to discourage you from further criminal activity through applied discomfort.”
Andre nodded to himself. This seemed alright so far.
“However,” Mr Ronove said, raising his voice, “do not take us for fools. The guards of this facility are trained and experienced professionals, and so am I. I have worked in corrections for fifteen years, and I know all the tricks. So don’t try them. Step out of line, and it’s off to my old workplace West Woe Penitentiary, where you’ll be sewing jeans for twelve hours a day.”
Well then.
“To move on to more practical matters…”
Mr Ronove went on to explain that the inmates would be divided between four supervisors, each of them getting eight inmates to be responsible for. This supervisor would be the one to answer their assigned inmates’ questions and act as a confidant in any sensitive matters, and they would also be the one to evaluate the inmates’ conduct during their stay and report their observations to the head supervisor.
They would not be responsible solely for their own conduct, however - this program involved a pair system. Every inmate would be paired with another, and one’s conduct would influence whether or not the other passed. This was to encourage cooperation.
Andre immediately started to worry. What if he got some jackass who couldn’t behave? Could he be doomed to forced labor just because of who his pair was?
He sighed. He hoped he’d get paired with the angel even if it seemed highly unlikely.
It looked like he at least wouldn’t need to worry for long, though. After Mr Ronove finished mentioning some of the things the program would involve - there would be education regarding social and emotional skills, ethics, law and general knowledge as well as physical education - the time to assign the supervisors and pairs came. The supervisors had climbed up on stage, and one of them was Samson. Andre wished that he’d be assigned that friendly angel, and he was pleased to hear it when Ronove announced the following:
“Under Mark Samson, your ethics teacher and priest: Thomas Powell, Yardley Tucker, Jenny Hale, Trevor Lawrence, Ichiro Akai, Miguel Franco, Jian Cheng and Andre Duval.”
The people whose names had been called out, Andre included, made a line aligning with their supervisor like the others had done. To Andre’s great dismay, one of them was… that leather-jacketed guy from before.
He seemed to notice it, too, as he and Andre made eye contact. The demon looked away and huffed to himself.
Once all inmates had been assigned to their supervisors, these supervisors stepped down from the stage and gathered their group’s members in their own huddles.
“Well, then,” Samson said, still smiling, “it seems that I’ll be your shepherd, so to speak. Everybody feeling alright?”
The group’s members glanced around at each other, then mumbled affirmatives. Andre simply nodded. He wasn’t feeling alright, but he didn’t want to make a scene.
“Great to hear! But if you ever get something on your mind, find me and talk to me, alright? I wanna make sure you’re all as comfortable as can be.”
More mumbled affirmatives.
Samson nodded. “Alright. Let’s get to the pairs, then…”
Andre blinked. The pairs would be from this group? Well, it made sense, but he’d been hoping otherwise…
He glanced at the leather-jacketed demon, who glanced back. He seemed nervous, but was trying to hide it under a veil of cool indifference. Andre hoped he’d get paired with someone else. The other angel wasn’t in this group, so that ship had sailed, but maybe he’d get paired with the girl of the group, that blonde with the horns arranged like a crown? Then again, she had kind of a mean look on her face…
Samson had pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket while Andre had been looking away. He cleared his throat, and Andre prepared himself to listen.
“Okay, once you hear your name, raise your hand,” Samson said. “That way your pair will know who you are. Now! Our first pair is…”
Andre held his breath.
“Andre Duval…”
Already? God. Sure. Andre raised his hand, then drilled his eyes onto the leather-jacketed demon.
“...and Ichiro Akai.”
The demon didn’t have to raise his hand in order for Andre to find out that was his name. His face said it all.
Samson looked around, not seeing a second hand. “Ichiro Akai?”
‘Ichiro’ huffed and raised his hand, giving a nasty glare to Andre.
“Alright,” Samson said. “You two play nice, now.” He returned to the paper in his hands --
“It’s Red,” the demon said.
“Hm?” Samson looked up.
“It’s Red,” the demon repeated, annoyed, and lowered his hand. “Everyone calls me Red.”
“Alright-y,” Samson said, smiling again. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now, for the second pair…”
The rest of the pairs were announced without issue, and they left the gymnasium to begin a tour of the facility. They were shown the communal dining area, or ‘chow hall’, the yard, the rec room, the gym, the library, the laundry room, bathrooms and showers and finally their quarters. They were given their keys and allowed to place their luggage in their rooms - good, Andre was getting tired of hauling that thing around - after which the tour ended and it was time for dinner. They were escorted to the chow hall again in case anyone had forgotten where it was. It seemed that the other groups had finished their tours as well, as the hall was full.
Andre got in line like the others and received his serving of mashed potatoes and… beef stew. Great. More dead animals on Andre’s conscience. He didn’t have a choice, though, so…
“Hey! Angel boy! Over here!”
Andre flinched and looked towards the voice. He saw a thin and pale Eastern demoness smile and wave at him from a table across the hall. She had long, sandy brown hair and rectangular glasses as well as the nose, ears and wings of a bat. She wore a sleeveless magenta top and colorful little string bracelets and a similar necklace. Next to her sat another demoness of a heavier build, who was Western in turn and had darker skin. She had short brunette hair and a green bandanna pierced by two little crimson horns, and her bare arms had scars that Andre made a point not to stare at. She didn’t appear very enthusiastic.
The first demoness’ shout, however, seemed to also grab the attention of the other angel in the hall - the one Samson had mentioned and Andre had almost spoken to before. He was sitting in another corner of the hall when he saw the demoness waving, then followed her stare to Andre, then began waving at Andre himself.
“O-over here! Hey!” he shouted. “I wanna get to know you!”
“She called first!” the red-horned demoness shouted at the unnamed angel, her voice louder and deeper. The bat-demoness flinched and raised her palms at her companion, who rolled her eyes, then looked to Andre and made a beckoning motion. The angel frowned, but kept gesturing himself and mouthing the words ‘come here’.
Andre’s gaze jumped between the angel and the demonesses. Which one should he pick? He really wanted to stick with the angel, but… the entire hall was watching by now because of all the shouting. If Andre chose to go with the angel, they might think that he thinks less of demons… which he maybe did, but he knew was a very stupid idea to show.
Andre made his decision. Heart pounding, he walked over to the demoness’ table and sat down.
“Yeah!” the red-horned demoness cheered. “Suck it, little man!” she shouted at the other angel right after. The angel made an indignant face, then shook his head and resumed his eating.
The bat-demoness sighed, but then turned to Andre and smiled. “Hi! I’m Alice,” she said, offering a hand.
Andre took her hand and shook it. “I’m Andre,” Andre said. “Pleased to meet you.”
“I’m Camila,” said the red-horned demoness, pointing to herself with a thumb. “Me and Alice are girlfriends. Got a problem with that?”
Andre raised his palms, heartbeat surging. “Oh, no, not at all. I’m… pan myself.” Oh god. He’d already blabbed it. Or… did they even know here what that meant?
“Huh.” Camila crossed her arms. It seemed like they knew what it meant, then. “I thought they hated sexual minorities in Heaven.”
“N…no?” Andre said hesitantly. “Where did you hear that?”
“It’s a common rumor about Heaven,” Alice explained. “Is it not true?”
Andre shook his head. “O-oh, no. In Heaven, it’s okay to be any orientation or gender.”
The demonesses exchanged a look. “Well, that sounds great,” Alice said, smiling, and she sounded like she meant it. Andre dared to smile back.
“Hmm.” Camila didn’t seem as pleased. “Yeah, I bet you have a wonderful place over there, with your equality and your robot servants, but when are you gonna share that prosperity with Hell?”
“Uh…” Andre hadn’t prepared himself for this conversation.
Alice lay a hand on Camila’s shoulder. “Mila, take it easy. We don’t know if angels like him have any say in what Heaven’s government does.”
Camila looked to Alice, then to Andre. “Well, do you?”
“Well…” Andre shook his head, glancing away. “No, not really. In terms of Hell, anyway. You’re not even allowed to talk about it.”
Camila scratched her cheek. “Huh.”
“Yeah, well, you can talk about it a little as long as you don’t do it publicly,” Andre amended. “If you do, though, they can charge you with ‘demoralizing’.”
“What happens then?” Camila asked.
“Mandatory sensitivity training program,” Andre said. “And if you do that, and then still talk about it… prison. In Hell.”
“Is that what happened to you?”
“Huh? Oh, no. I did, uh… something else.”
Camila frowned. “Did you rape somebody?”
“Wh-” Andre’s eyes widened. “No! I would never do something like that!”
Never? Even with the thoughts you’ve had?
The demoness relaxed. “Good.”
There was a spell of uncomfortable silence.
“Ah… yes, well…” Alice began. “Why don’t you tell us what your impressions of Hell are so far? I’m curious.”
“Uh…” Andre looked around, his eyes falling on the windows up by the ceiling - was every building he went to going to have their windows high up like that? Regardless, the clear red sky still shone through. It hadn’t changed in these few hours.
“It’s very… red,” Andre then said. “Heaven is more white and green.”
“Green? Is it the plants?” Alice asked.
“Yeah. Though they can have yellow and brown parts too, like here. But the leaves are almost always green.”
Alice nodded. “Like on Earth, then.”
Andre paused, gathering up his courage to ask a question. “How much do you know about Earth around here?”
“Things,” Alice said. “The sinners get milder sentences if they provide us with information about Earth. We owe a lot of technological advancements to them.”
“Uh… hmm.” Andre wasn’t necessarily a fan. Could evil people worm their way out of the consequences of their actions just by knowing more things?
“You must be thinking that that’s unfair,” Alice said. “It figures for an angel. Unless the rumors about angels having a stronger desire for justice are untrue?”
“No, I’d say they’re true,” Andre said. “Though, I mean, depends on how strong we’re talking. It’s not like it’s overpowering. We still have different personalities, much like I’m sure you demons do even though…”
Andre realized his mistake and quieted.
“Even though what?” Camila asked, offended.
Andre cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I spoke without thinking. I shouldn’t go assuming that the rumors Heaven has about demons are true.”
“What do they say there?” Alice asked.
Andre glanced away. “Well, that… demons are more… well…”
“Well, spit it out,” Camila said.
“...That demons enjoy violence,” Andre finally got out, fidgeting. He hoped he hadn’t just signed his death warrant.
“Oh, that? That’s just true,” Alice said. “We need to enjoy violence to be able to torment sinners. Don’t worry about that.”
Andre sighed in relief. “Whew, okay. I just really don’t want to offend.”
“It’s fine. So, back to your impressions of Hell?”
Andre explained his experiences in Hell from emerging from the portal to arriving at the facility, and Alice listened with keen interest. Even Camila seemed to be curious, though she tried to conceal it. Upon Andre’s mention of how needing to eat real animal meat was a shock to him, Alice immediately asked him about lab meat with a gleam in her eyes. Andre explained what he knew, though this was less than what the demoness seemed to want to know as a self-identified science lover. After this tangent, though, Andre could resume the recount of his experiences and got to his interaction with Red at the metal detector.
“God, I’m sorry about that,” Alice said, then sighed. “There’s still a lot of bigotry here, and it doesn’t seem like it’s going away any time soon…”
“But we’re gonna fight it anyway,” Camila said with a grin, wrapping her arm around Alice. “Ain’t that right, Lis?”
Alice smiled at her girlfriend. “Of course!” She turned back to Andre. “Oh, but I should mention, I actually know that guy.”
“You know Red?” Andre asked, glancing around the hall and spotting the demon at the other end of the hall. He was sitting alone.
“Yeah, we went to the same university,” Alice said. “I was in physics and he was in biology. Always wore that same jacket, that’s how I recognize him.” She frowned. “He was never nice, but I didn’t think he was a call-people-slurs kinda guy.”
Andre kept staring at Red. A university student. He didn't seem like the type - he seemed like the type to have too much trouble with authority to go into further education. And, well, it was judgmental, but Andre didn't think he'd have the smarts for it, either.
“Well, anyway,” Andre said, turning back to the demonesses, “I should mention that I also got paired up with him.”
“No!” Alice said. “Oh, that sucks so much.”
“Yeah…”
“Maybe you can ask for a reassignment. Who’s your supervisor?”
“Samson, the angel guy.”
“Yeah, he seems nice. I’m sure he’d understand, especially if Heaven is more progressive like you said.”
“Hmm…” Andre thought about it. He’d like to get someone other than Red, but what if he got someone even worse? Or he’d be branded as some kind of princess who can’t handle a bit of rudeness?
“I think I’ll wait a bit first,” he said. “Maybe he was just… posturing before, or something.”
“Maybe,” Alice said. “Keep me posted, alright?”
“Will do,” Andre said. So she wanted to talk again later. That was alright. She seemed nice, and her girlfriend didn’t seem that bad, even if she was kind of scary.
Alice nodded, then looked at Andre’s plate. “I should probably let you eat. Your food’s getting cold.”
“Ah! Right. Thanks.” Andre took a forkful of beef, but then froze. Right. Real animals. Well, he’d managed to get Hell food down once before…
He began to eat. It did not taste good, especially now that it was cold, but it was food.
“Well, while you’re eating, I should tell you stuff about that other angel,” Camila said.
“Hmm?” Andre vocalized, his mouth full. That other angel that had tried to get his attention? He looked over to where the angel had sat, but it seemed like he was gone already.
“Yeah, I got paired up with him. His name’s Eric, and he does not like demons. Every time one gets close to him, he makes a face like he’s smelled something bad.”
Andre swallowed. He… understood that to an extent, but to be so openly averse… just wasn’t polite. Unbecoming of an angel, really. “That’s unfortunate,” Andre said, then got the idea for something that would surely make him appear more demon-friendly. “But hey, maybe he’s just been told a lot of bad things about demons. I can talk to him, see if he’ll come around.”
“You can talk to him, sure, but just make sure you don’t make it sound like I asked you to,” Camila said. “Because I’m not. Got that?”
“Uh, y-yeah, I’ve got that,” Andre said. “Besides, even if you had asked me to talk to him, I wouldn’t tell on you. I’m not that kind of person, I swear.”
Camila huffed. “Good.”
Andre resumed his eating, and so did the demonesses for the little they had left. Once done, they brought back their dishes and each headed into their quarters to unpack. Andre arrived at the room number he was assigned, 112C, and unlocked the door. He stepped in, and unsurprisingly, Red was also there. The demon was on his bed, lying on his back with his hands behind his head. His horns seemed to be gone. He'd probably made them disappear the way Andre assumed the chauffeur had made his tail disappear.
Red stared at Andre for a moment, his expression mostly blank with a tinge of irritation, then directed his gaze back to the ceiling.
Andre sighed quietly. He supposed he should try to talk to him, no matter how little either of them wanted it, no matter how there was a non-zero chance of a mauling.
Andre cleared his throat. “You know,” he began, “if we're gonna be pairs, I think we should try to get along.”
Red frowned, but didn't look at Andre. “We'll get along as well as we get along.”
Andre frowned in turn. He let something slip before thinking. “You could make at least a bit of an effort.”
Red looked into Andre's eyes. Andre’s stomach sank. What had he done? Why would he give a demon lip? Was he stupid?
Then again, he knew he couldn’t just be a doormat. There was always a chance that demons would think even less of someone for not standing up for themselves. Andre just wished he wasn’t so afraid. Or have that other feeling, that feeling he knew he shouldn’t have because it wouldn’t lead to anything good…
“I'll do what I want,” Red said, returning his gaze to the ceiling.
Andre slowly took a deep breath in and out. “Alright,” he said.
Silence returned to the room, and Andre determined that the conversation was over. He walked over to his bag, began unpacking, unpacked, and finished unpacking. Not that there was much to do - just place the items in the chest of drawers at the foot of his bed.
When the bag was empty, he gave Red another look. He was still staring at the ceiling.
Andre figured that staying here was going to be bad for his mental health. He didn't know if going out was much better, but he could at least try.
“I'm going to the rec room,” he said, ready to exit the room.
“Why do you think I care?” Red said.
Andre sighed quietly. “I just figured that we, as pairs, would like to know where we're going.”
“Well, I don't. And I'm not gonna be telling you shit about where I'm going.”
God, what a jackass. “Alright, then,” Andre mumbled and left the room.
Andre, being someone with a sharp memory, had no trouble finding his way back to the rec room. Unlike the first time, it was now in active use - demons sitting on the couches, the beanbag chairs, the floor or by the table and playing with cards or the pinball machine or just watching the TV by the ceiling. Andre stepped closer to the TV to make sense of what was going on - looked like some kind of… arena fight? A crimson-furred bull with four horns and tusks pawed at the ground, then charged at a large draconic demon - was that demon a person or an animal? - only to be grabbed by the skull and -- oh Arukei. Andre quickly looked away so that he wouldn’t subjected to another gory nightmare.
Instead, he looked around, trying to find either the angel inmate or Alice or Camila. He couldn’t spot any of them, but he did spot someone else that caught his attention.
In the far corner of the room stood a lanky Eastern demoness with short black hair. Bangs with a navy blue streak covered her forehead, and she wore a hoodie and jeans in other, even more inoffensive shades of blue. She had the ears of a black cat at the top of her head, partially flattened, and her eyes were yellow with slit, albeit dilated, pupils. Her tail, all black, brushed against her legs, tucking itself between them every now and then.
Even without the feline body language, it was obvious that the girl was distressed. She was grasping her arms, her black-furred thumb stroking up and down, and she was even… shaking? Good Arukei, she must have been feeling terrible. And there was no one to comfort her.
Well, Andre could help with that. Andre should help with that.
Andre walked through the room, weaving past the groups of demons, and arrived before the cat-demoness. She noticed him, but avoided his gaze, possibly hoping that he wasn’t there for her. Andre hesitated for a moment, wondering if his talking to her would actually bring her even more distress, but ultimately decided to speak.
“Hey,” Andre said with a friendly smile. The demoness glanced at him, then past him, then at the ground, then at him again, then at the ground again, then past him again. Eye contact was clearly uncomfortable for her.
Still, Andre continued. “I’m Andre. What’s your name?”
“...Suki,” she said quietly.
“Nice to meet you, Suki.”
“Likewise…”
Andre looked away himself. Maybe that would make her more comfortable. “You don’t know anyone here, I take it?”
Suki shook her head. “No, it’s just me…”
“Not even your pair?”
“No, he’s… we don’t get along.”
“Mm. I know the feeling. My pair doesn’t like me either.”
“What’s your… pair like?”
She was getting a bit more confident. Good. “Did you spot that guy with the dog ears and the studded leather jacket?”
Suki looked Andre in the eyes long enough to nod. “Yeah.”
“Well, he’s not very nice.”
“Mm…” She nodded again. “My pair’s not nice either.”
“Who’d you get paired up with?”
“Jake,” she said. “I don’t remember his last name. But he’s the guy with the pig head.”
Andre remembered seeing someone like that around. “Don’t know him,” Andre said, “but now I’ll know to avoid him.”
“Yeah.”
A spell of silence. Andre was about to break it, but to his surprise, Suki was the one to speak next.
“Are you from Heaven?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Andre answered.
“Is it nice there?”
“It was nice there,” Andre said. “Or, well, probably still is. I can’t go back, though.”
“Oh,” she said. “Was that your punishment?”
“In addition to this program, yeah.”
“Right, yeah…” Suki nodded again. Then she shuddered.
Andre tilted his head. “Are you cold?”
“No, it’s just withdrawal from --” Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth. “Oh, no, no. No, I shouldn’t have said that, oh…” She grasped her head next, sharp claws emerging from her fingertips.
Andre froze. “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m -- yes, I’m okay, I’m --” She began breathing heavily. “I-I have to go!”
She dashed past Andre, squeezed her way through the groups of demons with feline agility and exited the room. Andre contemplated going after her, but maybe it was better not to. He didn’t want to upset her any further.
Not too long after, though, a pair of familiar women walked through the door - Alice and Camila. They noticed Andre, too, and made their way to him.
“Hey, Andre!” Alice greeted. “Long time no see.”
“Hey there,” Andre said. “Did your unpacking go well?”
“Yeah. They have more storage room here than I expected.” She paused as Andre nodded, then continued. “How’d it go with Red? If he was there, that is.”
“Yeah, he was there,” Andre sighed. “He made it pretty clear that he’s not interested in being civil.”
“Oh, sorry to hear,” Alice said. “Will you be asking for a reassignment, then?”
Andre crossed his arms. “Mm… no, I don’t think I will. I mean, I’m pretty sure I can still handle this. Plus, if I ask for a reassignment, someone else will be stuck with him, and I might get someone worse. I think I’m just gonna try making this work.”
“Well, you do you,” Alice said. She glanced at Camila, since she’d been quiet, and saw that she was occupied with watching the battle on TV. “Camila?”
“Yeah?” Camila turned around. “Sorry, they got a pack of bonecrushers tearing apart a sinner.”
“Ah, okay.”
“What's a bonecrusher?” Andre asked. He almost glanced at the TV before he remembered he didn't want to subject himself to that.
Are you sure? It’s a sinner. He was probably a rapist or something. You’ve already helped send a lot of them here. You know they deserve it. You know you want to revel in their pain.
Camila looked to Andre. “A breed of hellhound.” She grinned. “I love hellhounds. My family breeds ‘em, so I’ve been around them my whole life.”
“Hellhounds,” Andre repeated. He realized that the top Camila wore had a stylized horned canine skull on it. “I’ve heard of those. What are they like? Are they like dogs with horns or what?”
“You can see for yourself,” Camila said, gesturing to the TV, but Andre raised his hands.
“No, thank you, I think I’d prefer a verbal description. What’s playing on there is too much for me.”
“Huh.” Camila scratched her chin. “Right, angel.” She cleared her throat, and her grin returned. “So, yeah, hellhounds are like dogs. We don’t have dogs here, but the sinners have told us about them - drawn pictures, too. The difference between a dog and a hellhound is that the latter has horns and a whiplike tail with an arrow-shaped tip, like many demons.” It sounded like she was reciting some text she’d read many times. “I love them. They’re awesome. Do they have dogs in heaven?”
“Well, not regular dogs, but we do have heaven-hounds.”
“Heaven-hounds?”
“Yeah. They’re also like dogs, but have halos and wings, like angels. Only they can actually fly with them. We angels can’t. Arukei’s decision, for whatever reason.”
“Oh, yeah. I was wondering about that,” Camila said. “The fences they have here wouldn’t be very effective if you could just take off, I guess.”
“Yeah.”
Alice nodded and spoke up again. “So, could you tell us more about Heaven again?“
“Oh, sure thing,” Andre said. “Let’s see. Where to begin…”
At 10:24 PM, Andre took off his glasses and lay down on his new bed for the first time. He let himself simply breathe for a moment while staring at the white ceiling.
Well, here he was, at the end of his first day in Hell. A lot had happened. Maybe he should write it down? He might forget to tell Ellie about something interesting later when he wrote his first letter.
No, it was fine. He could do it tomorrow. Right now, he just wanted to rest.
He took one last look at Red. The demon was lying in his own bed, facing the wall, probably already asleep. Hopefully he wouldn’t snore.
Andre took a deep breath and let it out. However uncooperative Red would be, he’d just have to deal with it. And, hey, it would probably work out. After all, Red had been rude - very rude - but not actively malicious so far. He could have been a lot worse.
Clinging onto that, Andre shut off his bedside lamp and nestled under the blanket. It was thinner than the one at home, just like the mattress, but Hell was warmer anyway. He’d be fine.
He closed his eyes and began waiting for sleep.
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 and discussion of BDSM (but no explicit sexual content, such as sex scenes)
- 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
Then, also, a word about feedback preferences:
I'm very lax when it comes to the type of feedback I want - I'm happy with reactions, impressions, concrit, speculation, grammar/typo fixes (seriously, if I have typos, please tell me so I can fix them post-haste), memes, whatever your reviewing style is as long as you're not outright mean. However, as this is my first time writing romance and one of my first times writing mystery, feedback on how this story fares in terms of the goals of those genres is highly valuable and appreciated.
Also, a note about the first chapter: at the time of writing this, it has received three reviews, all of which make good points. I am aware that it is very long and rather exposition-heavy in the beginning, and it is something I would like to do edits on, but for the time being, I have decided to leave it as is in order to focus on later chapters. This doesn't mean that further feedback on it isn't valuable and appreciated, but it does mean that it can take time for those to be reflected.
Also, a note about the first chapter: at the time of writing this, it has received three reviews, all of which make good points. I am aware that it is very long and rather exposition-heavy in the beginning, and it is something I would like to do edits on, but for the time being, I have decided to leave it as is in order to focus on later chapters. This doesn't mean that further feedback on it isn't valuable and appreciated, but it does mean that it can take time for those to be reflected.
With that out of the way, thank you for your attention thus far and enjoy reading Cor Daemonis!
Red:
Andre:
Andre:
---
Cor Daemonis
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
---
Red
Cor Daemonis
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
---
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
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?
“It’s good to see you,” she suddenly spoke up, with a terribly croaky voice.
“It’s good to see 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, Girlfiends. It was a lovely and hilarious story about two competing female private investigators on Earth whose incredible sexual tension eventually led them to become a couple.
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, women and enbies he’d brought in.
God. Sex was another thing he’d have to leave behind. He couldn’t ever see himself sleeping with a demon, even less so in what was still essentially a prison. If they really were as violent as they said, there’s no way the sex could be safe.
The image of a demon, gender irrelevant, putting their hands on his bare chest flashed in Andre’s mind and he buried it. No. It wouldn’t be safe, so it was bad. Dangerous. He shouldn’t be thinking of it. It was self-destructive.
Another clearing of the throat from the male prison escort brought a merciful 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 understood why… to an extent. He knew that sinners had to be restricted to Hell as a sanction and to keep them away from the virtuous people of Heaven. He also knew that demons were said to be violent and selfish and difficult to coexist with, but… if they were simply born that way, was it really their fault? Should they really be locked away to suffer in their own dystopia? Heaven always said that helping others was the greatest virtue, but when anyone ever said anything about helping demons, they were shamed and ridiculed for being so naive. That demons would just drag you down with them. And then you’d get in trouble with the law for discussing Hell so openly…
Why did it have to be that way, anyway? Why couldn’t they talk about Hell, when Earth had horrible things happen every day, and they could discuss those? Admittedly, they couldn’t discuss even those excessively lest the virtuous be ‘demoralized’...
At least they were given the basics about Hell in that one lesson in school in ninth grade. Thank Arukei Andre was allowed to attend. Otherwise, he might have never found out things such as the fact that Hell was a democracy. Or claimed to be a democracy. Apparently, the real power came from money. Capitalism was rampant and regulation was minimal. As a result, the lower classes often turned to crime, which made daily life rather dangerous. Nothing like Heaven, where any crime came as a shock, and something like this Blackwing bust that had led to Andre’s arrest was a historical event.
Would Andre even be able to survive in Hell? What would happen to him if his body was killed before his soul could expire? Would anyone care to bring him to a regeneration center? Did they even have those there? Well, if they did, they certainly wouldn’t be cheap…
Andre’s rumination was cut short by the stray observation that 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’d been told before that he wouldn’t be going to the angel penitentiaries of Hell like the others since they were over capacity due to the 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 - well, obviously, as holy energy didn’t work in Hell. 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 Arukei 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.
Self-destructive… just like you, a thought taunted Andre. He shook his head and forced himself to focus on other things.
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 they were simply used to their own society’s way of functioning to see the benefits of the Celestial model. In Heaven, 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? And not just porn, but hardcore, degrading 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, thankfully still clothed, 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 to the men’s bathroom - Hell still had that distinction, it seemed - and thankfully had his cuffs taken off, but something he wasn’t thankful for was the absolutely rancid state of the bathroom. The pungent stench in the room of grimy, cracked tiles threatened to made Andre vomit, but he managed to do his business nevertheless. He wasn’t sure, though, if the yellowish water really washed his hands. Andre did smell them afterwards once he was out of that horrid room, and they seemed fine, so hopefully they were. Getting sick would make his stay in the rehab 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.
Andre’s dread surged.
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.
Eventually, they arrived.
At the gates of the facility, Andre was identified for what he hoped by now would be the last time that day. This time, however, it was a demon that identified him rather than an angel. Andre had the time to think about how he might not see another angel for a very long time if ever after his escorts left - but driving past the entrance of the first building, those worries were put to rest.
An angel stood by the front door. Judging by the card hanging by his neck, he was part of the staff. Must have been someone sent from Heaven to supervise what was going on. Though Andre couldn’t see why. He’d thought this experiment was Hell’s own. Why would Heaven be interested in this?
The car entered the parking lot beside the main building. The chauffeur parked the car, and Andre and the escorts got out, the male escort carrying Andre’s luggage. The chauffeur stayed put, though. He’d wait for the escorts to return and then take them back to Heaven.
Andre was escorted to the angel by the door, and he finally got a better look at him. The angel was a white man, somewhere in his thirties, with gray-blue eyes and blond hair neatly combed back. He was tall and somewhat burly with a square face, though his imposing figure was sharply contrasted by his friendly smile. His halo was thick and hexagonal, spinning in a relaxed manner with a healthy golden glow. He wore casual clothes - a white t-shirt and khaki shorts. Not a uniform? Was that allowed?
“Welcome!” he said. “You’re Andre, right?”
“That’s me,” Andre said. “Can I, uh, ask something?”
“Sure thing! What’s on your mind?”
“Are you… I mean… what do you do here? As an angel in Hell, I mean.”
“Well, I’m here as a missionary,” he said. “Right now, though, they want me to help out at this rehabilitation center. Name’s Samson, by the way. Pleasure to meet you!”
Missionary. Andre realized then that the staff card wasn’t the only thing hanging from the angel’s neck - there was also a golden pendant shaped like the head of a mountain goat with horns that connected in a loop. Arukei’s symbol.
Well, in any case, it was nice that at least someone was being friendly towards Andre. Then again… it was unnerving. Shouldn’t any angel who knew that he was a Blackwing hate him?
“It’s… nice to meet you too,” Andre said nevertheless.
“You know, you’re not the only angel we have in this program,” Samson said. “Maybe you two can become friends! He seemed like a nice enough boy.”
“Was he a, uh, Blackwing too…?”
Samson shook his head. “Not that I know of. He’s in here for something else. It would be rude of me to disclose that without his permission, though, so you’ll have to ask him yourself.”
Andre nodded. “Right.”
Samson looked like he was about to say something else, but his eyes veered past Andre. Andre turned around himself and noticed that another prisoner had shown up with his own escorts.
This prisoner was another demon, but this demon… was different.
This demon, an Eastern young man - Hojoan, perhaps - was exactly like the type of studded-leather-jacket-wearing bad boy heartthrobs Andre had drooled over in his teenage years. Only with, you know, long curved white horns, the ears and feet of a black-furred canine and an arrow-tipped tail that whipped in annoyance. He had long black hair that crashed into his broad shoulders, and his jacket was open to show a white shirt with a low neckline resting on top of some well-trained pecs.
Andre realized he was staring and averted his gaze. Damn it. Hadn’t he just hours ago decided that it was dangerous to be attracted to a demon?
“Can you two bird boys quit your chirping?” someone said. Andre looked back as he spoke - it was the prisoner. “I don’t have all day.”
Well, that definitely helped in making him less attractive. “W-we’re done,” Andre got out, glancing at Samson. “Go ahead.”
Samson was no longer smiling, but he stepped aside nonetheless. “Welcome to the Crimson Plains Criminal Rehabilitation Center,” he said in a neutral tone.
“Sure,” the prisoner muttered and walked past Samson through the door. His escorts, both male demons in uniform, followed after. One of them carried a duffel bag similar to Andre’s own, but green.
Samson sighed. “Well, you’d better head in, too. The assembly is beginning soon.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Samson,” Andre said, and Samson smiled in response.
Andre and his escorts walked through the door. There was another metal detector at the end of the room they entered, and it seemed that the demon prisoner was having some trouble.
“You’re gonna need to take off everything with metal in it,” the demoness attending the detector said - for the second time, judging by the emphasis.
“And I told you that that’s everything I’m wearing,” the prisoner growled. “Can’t you just pat me down like everyone else before this?”
The monitor shook her head. “Take them off.”
The prisoner’s fists clenched. His escorts and the monitor tensed up. Andre tensed up, too. Was he going to get violent?
Eventually, however, the prisoner sighed. “Fine,” he said, releasing the tension in Andre’s body before quickly returning it by looking directly at Andre. “You are going to look away, though. I don’t want any queers eyeing my body.”
Well, then. Thoroughly unattractive now.
Andre turned around. He was already going to do it before, anyway. It wasn’t right to stare at someone who was being forced to strip against their will. Even if that person would probably look really --
Holy Arukei, Andre thought. Do not think like that.
It took a minute or two for the prisoner to make it through the metal check, and then came Andre’s turn, which passed much more quickly. His escorts were left behind, along with his handcuffs, and he now had to carry his own luggage. He was given directions to the gymnasium by a guard, and he found his way there without issue. The gymnasium, which actually looked pretty normal, had about thirty demons standing and chattering there - and one angel.
He was thin and boyish with well-groomed blond hair like Samson’s, and he wore neat clothes. His halo was a smooth ring and his wings were small and shaped like those of a songbird. He struck Andre as… eighteen years old, or younger. But minors would go to a different place, right?
Regardless, Andre began making his way towards the angel, thinking he’d be safer with him - but then he saw a demon climb onto the stage at the front of the gymnasium. Given the brown suit he was wearing, he was clearly someone in charge. Andre stopped and turned to the stage.
The demon, a tall black man of sepia complexion, had short black hair, a trimmed beard and large red-black-striped horns, but his most striking feature was his eyes, which had deep red sclerae and yellow irises. Despite the demon’s eerie gaze, Andre found himself fighting off even more indecent thoughts. Damn it, was there something in Hell’s air making him more amorous than usual? Besides, even if dancing with demons wasn’t dangerous, trying to flirt with someone in charge would probably end poorly for him. In fact… should he keep his sexual orientation a secret in general? He didn’t like the idea of hiding it, but if that demon from before was any indication, homophobia was still alive and well in Hell…
The demon on the stage cleared his throat, and Andre told himself to focus. This would likely be important.
“Everyone,” he said, his voice deep and masculine, “settle down.” As the chatter trailed off and the crowd turned to face the stage, he continued. “Thank you. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Gideon Ronove, and I am the head supervisor of this program. I will be supervising the operations of this facility for the duration of the program, or the next four months. I hope that these four months will pass smoothly.”
A pause. “Now, more about the program. You likely know this by now, but in case you don’t: the Woe State Young Adult Rehabilitation Program, or the YARP for short, is an experimental program meant for first-time offenders between the ages of 18 and 25 whose crimes were severe but committed for quote-unquote ‘understandable’ reasons. Unlike traditional prisons, this program seeks to rehabilitate you rather than punish you. There will still be restrictions placed on your daily life, but these are for reasons of security rather than an attempt to discourage you from further criminal activity through applied discomfort.”
Andre nodded to himself. This seemed alright so far.
“However,” Mr Ronove said, raising his voice, “do not take us for fools. The guards of this facility are trained and experienced professionals, and so am I. I have worked in corrections for fifteen years, and I know all the tricks. So don’t try them. Step out of line, and it’s off to my old workplace West Woe Penitentiary, where you’ll be sewing jeans for twelve hours a day.”
Well then.
“To move on to more practical matters…”
Mr Ronove went on to explain that the inmates would be divided between four supervisors, each of them getting eight inmates to be responsible for. This supervisor would be the one to answer their assigned inmates’ questions and act as a confidant in any sensitive matters, and they would also be the one to evaluate the inmates’ conduct during their stay and report their observations to the head supervisor.
They would not be responsible solely for their own conduct, however - this program involved a pair system. Every inmate would be paired with another, and one’s conduct would influence whether or not the other passed. This was to encourage cooperation.
Andre immediately started to worry. What if he got some jackass who couldn’t behave? Could he be doomed to forced labor just because of who his pair was?
He sighed. He hoped he’d get paired with the angel even if it seemed highly unlikely.
It looked like he at least wouldn’t need to worry for long, though. After Mr Ronove finished mentioning some of the things the program would involve - there would be education regarding social and emotional skills, ethics, law and general knowledge as well as physical education - the time to assign the supervisors and pairs came. The supervisors had climbed up on stage, and one of them was Samson. Andre wished that he’d be assigned that friendly angel, and he was pleased to hear it when Ronove announced the following:
“Under Mark Samson, your ethics teacher and priest: Thomas Powell, Yardley Tucker, Jenny Hale, Trevor Lawrence, Ichiro Akai, Miguel Franco, Jian Cheng and Andre Duval.”
The people whose names had been called out, Andre included, made a line aligning with their supervisor like the others had done. To Andre’s great dismay, one of them was… that leather-jacketed guy from before.
He seemed to notice it, too, as he and Andre made eye contact. The demon looked away and huffed to himself.
Once all inmates had been assigned to their supervisors, these supervisors stepped down from the stage and gathered their group’s members in their own huddles.
“Well, then,” Samson said, still smiling, “it seems that I’ll be your shepherd, so to speak. Everybody feeling alright?”
The group’s members glanced around at each other, then mumbled affirmatives. Andre simply nodded. He wasn’t feeling alright, but he didn’t want to make a scene.
“Great to hear! But if you ever get something on your mind, find me and talk to me, alright? I wanna make sure you’re all as comfortable as can be.”
More mumbled affirmatives.
Samson nodded. “Alright. Let’s get to the pairs, then…”
Andre blinked. The pairs would be from this group? Well, it made sense, but he’d been hoping otherwise…
He glanced at the leather-jacketed demon, who glanced back. He seemed nervous, but was trying to hide it under a veil of cool indifference. Andre hoped he’d get paired with someone else. The other angel wasn’t in this group, so that ship had sailed, but maybe he’d get paired with the girl of the group, that blonde with the horns arranged like a crown? Then again, she had kind of a mean look on her face…
Samson had pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket while Andre had been looking away. He cleared his throat, and Andre prepared himself to listen.
“Okay, once you hear your name, raise your hand,” Samson said. “That way your pair will know who you are. Now! Our first pair is…”
Andre held his breath.
“Andre Duval…”
Already? God. Sure. Andre raised his hand, then drilled his eyes onto the leather-jacketed demon.
“...and Ichiro Akai.”
The demon didn’t have to raise his hand in order for Andre to find out that was his name. His face said it all.
Samson looked around, not seeing a second hand. “Ichiro Akai?”
‘Ichiro’ huffed and raised his hand, giving a nasty glare to Andre.
“Alright,” Samson said. “You two play nice, now.” He returned to the paper in his hands --
“It’s Red,” the demon said.
“Hm?” Samson looked up.
“It’s Red,” the demon repeated, annoyed, and lowered his hand. “Everyone calls me Red.”
“Alright-y,” Samson said, smiling again. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now, for the second pair…”
The rest of the pairs were announced without issue, and they left the gymnasium to begin a tour of the facility. They were shown the communal dining area, or ‘chow hall’, the yard, the rec room, the gym, the library, the laundry room, bathrooms and showers and finally their quarters. They were given their keys and allowed to place their luggage in their rooms - good, Andre was getting tired of hauling that thing around - after which the tour ended and it was time for dinner. They were escorted to the chow hall again in case anyone had forgotten where it was. It seemed that the other groups had finished their tours as well, as the hall was full.
Andre got in line like the others and received his serving of mashed potatoes and… beef stew. Great. More dead animals on Andre’s conscience. He didn’t have a choice, though, so…
“Hey! Angel boy! Over here!”
Andre flinched and looked towards the voice. He saw a thin and pale Eastern demoness smile and wave at him from a table across the hall. She had long, sandy brown hair and rectangular glasses as well as the nose, ears and wings of a bat. She wore a sleeveless magenta top and colorful little string bracelets and a similar necklace. Next to her sat another demoness of a heavier build, who was Western in turn and had darker skin. She had short brunette hair and a green bandanna pierced by two little crimson horns, and her bare arms had scars that Andre made a point not to stare at. She didn’t appear very enthusiastic.
The first demoness’ shout, however, seemed to also grab the attention of the other angel in the hall - the one Samson had mentioned and Andre had almost spoken to before. He was sitting in another corner of the hall when he saw the demoness waving, then followed her stare to Andre, then began waving at Andre himself.
“O-over here! Hey!” he shouted. “I wanna get to know you!”
“She called first!” the red-horned demoness shouted at the unnamed angel, her voice louder and deeper. The bat-demoness flinched and raised her palms at her companion, who rolled her eyes, then looked to Andre and made a beckoning motion. The angel frowned, but kept gesturing himself and mouthing the words ‘come here’.
Andre’s gaze jumped between the angel and the demonesses. Which one should he pick? He really wanted to stick with the angel, but… the entire hall was watching by now because of all the shouting. If Andre chose to go with the angel, they might think that he thinks less of demons… which he maybe did, but he knew was a very stupid idea to show.
Andre made his decision. Heart pounding, he walked over to the demoness’ table and sat down.
“Yeah!” the red-horned demoness cheered. “Suck it, little man!” she shouted at the other angel right after. The angel made an indignant face, then shook his head and resumed his eating.
The bat-demoness sighed, but then turned to Andre and smiled. “Hi! I’m Alice,” she said, offering a hand.
Andre took her hand and shook it. “I’m Andre,” Andre said. “Pleased to meet you.”
“I’m Camila,” said the red-horned demoness, pointing to herself with a thumb. “Me and Alice are girlfriends. Got a problem with that?”
Andre raised his palms, heartbeat surging. “Oh, no, not at all. I’m… pan myself.” Oh god. He’d already blabbed it. Or… did they even know here what that meant?
“Huh.” Camila crossed her arms. It seemed like they knew what it meant, then. “I thought they hated sexual minorities in Heaven.”
“N…no?” Andre said hesitantly. “Where did you hear that?”
“It’s a common rumor about Heaven,” Alice explained. “Is it not true?”
Andre shook his head. “O-oh, no. In Heaven, it’s okay to be any orientation or gender.”
The demonesses exchanged a look. “Well, that sounds great,” Alice said, smiling, and she sounded like she meant it. Andre dared to smile back.
“Hmm.” Camila didn’t seem as pleased. “Yeah, I bet you have a wonderful place over there, with your equality and your robot servants, but when are you gonna share that prosperity with Hell?”
“Uh…” Andre hadn’t prepared himself for this conversation.
Alice lay a hand on Camila’s shoulder. “Mila, take it easy. We don’t know if angels like him have any say in what Heaven’s government does.”
Camila looked to Alice, then to Andre. “Well, do you?”
“Well…” Andre shook his head, glancing away. “No, not really. In terms of Hell, anyway. You’re not even allowed to talk about it.”
Camila scratched her cheek. “Huh.”
“Yeah, well, you can talk about it a little as long as you don’t do it publicly,” Andre amended. “If you do, though, they can charge you with ‘demoralizing’.”
“What happens then?” Camila asked.
“Mandatory sensitivity training program,” Andre said. “And if you do that, and then still talk about it… prison. In Hell.”
“Is that what happened to you?”
“Huh? Oh, no. I did, uh… something else.”
Camila frowned. “Did you rape somebody?”
“Wh-” Andre’s eyes widened. “No! I would never do something like that!”
Never? Even with the thoughts you’ve had?
The demoness relaxed. “Good.”
There was a spell of uncomfortable silence.
“Ah… yes, well…” Alice began. “Why don’t you tell us what your impressions of Hell are so far? I’m curious.”
“Uh…” Andre looked around, his eyes falling on the windows up by the ceiling - was every building he went to going to have their windows high up like that? Regardless, the clear red sky still shone through. It hadn’t changed in these few hours.
“It’s very… red,” Andre then said. “Heaven is more white and green.”
“Green? Is it the plants?” Alice asked.
“Yeah. Though they can have yellow and brown parts too, like here. But the leaves are almost always green.”
Alice nodded. “Like on Earth, then.”
Andre paused, gathering up his courage to ask a question. “How much do you know about Earth around here?”
“Things,” Alice said. “The sinners get milder sentences if they provide us with information about Earth. We owe a lot of technological advancements to them.”
“Uh… hmm.” Andre wasn’t necessarily a fan. Could evil people worm their way out of the consequences of their actions just by knowing more things?
“You must be thinking that that’s unfair,” Alice said. “It figures for an angel. Unless the rumors about angels having a stronger desire for justice are untrue?”
“No, I’d say they’re true,” Andre said. “Though, I mean, depends on how strong we’re talking. It’s not like it’s overpowering. We still have different personalities, much like I’m sure you demons do even though…”
Andre realized his mistake and quieted.
“Even though what?” Camila asked, offended.
Andre cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I spoke without thinking. I shouldn’t go assuming that the rumors Heaven has about demons are true.”
“What do they say there?” Alice asked.
Andre glanced away. “Well, that… demons are more… well…”
“Well, spit it out,” Camila said.
“...That demons enjoy violence,” Andre finally got out, fidgeting. He hoped he hadn’t just signed his death warrant.
“Oh, that? That’s just true,” Alice said. “We need to enjoy violence to be able to torment sinners. Don’t worry about that.”
Andre sighed in relief. “Whew, okay. I just really don’t want to offend.”
“It’s fine. So, back to your impressions of Hell?”
Andre explained his experiences in Hell from emerging from the portal to arriving at the facility, and Alice listened with keen interest. Even Camila seemed to be curious, though she tried to conceal it. Upon Andre’s mention of how needing to eat real animal meat was a shock to him, Alice immediately asked him about lab meat with a gleam in her eyes. Andre explained what he knew, though this was less than what the demoness seemed to want to know as a self-identified science lover. After this tangent, though, Andre could resume the recount of his experiences and got to his interaction with Red at the metal detector.
“God, I’m sorry about that,” Alice said, then sighed. “There’s still a lot of bigotry here, and it doesn’t seem like it’s going away any time soon…”
“But we’re gonna fight it anyway,” Camila said with a grin, wrapping her arm around Alice. “Ain’t that right, Lis?”
Alice smiled at her girlfriend. “Of course!” She turned back to Andre. “Oh, but I should mention, I actually know that guy.”
“You know Red?” Andre asked, glancing around the hall and spotting the demon at the other end of the hall. He was sitting alone.
“Yeah, we went to the same university,” Alice said. “I was in physics and he was in biology. Always wore that same jacket, that’s how I recognize him.” She frowned. “He was never nice, but I didn’t think he was a call-people-slurs kinda guy.”
Andre kept staring at Red. A university student. He didn't seem like the type - he seemed like the type to have too much trouble with authority to go into further education. And, well, it was judgmental, but Andre didn't think he'd have the smarts for it, either.
“Well, anyway,” Andre said, turning back to the demonesses, “I should mention that I also got paired up with him.”
“No!” Alice said. “Oh, that sucks so much.”
“Yeah…”
“Maybe you can ask for a reassignment. Who’s your supervisor?”
“Samson, the angel guy.”
“Yeah, he seems nice. I’m sure he’d understand, especially if Heaven is more progressive like you said.”
“Hmm…” Andre thought about it. He’d like to get someone other than Red, but what if he got someone even worse? Or he’d be branded as some kind of princess who can’t handle a bit of rudeness?
“I think I’ll wait a bit first,” he said. “Maybe he was just… posturing before, or something.”
“Maybe,” Alice said. “Keep me posted, alright?”
“Will do,” Andre said. So she wanted to talk again later. That was alright. She seemed nice, and her girlfriend didn’t seem that bad, even if she was kind of scary.
Alice nodded, then looked at Andre’s plate. “I should probably let you eat. Your food’s getting cold.”
“Ah! Right. Thanks.” Andre took a forkful of beef, but then froze. Right. Real animals. Well, he’d managed to get Hell food down once before…
He began to eat. It did not taste good, especially now that it was cold, but it was food.
“Well, while you’re eating, I should tell you stuff about that other angel,” Camila said.
“Hmm?” Andre vocalized, his mouth full. That other angel that had tried to get his attention? He looked over to where the angel had sat, but it seemed like he was gone already.
“Yeah, I got paired up with him. His name’s Eric, and he does not like demons. Every time one gets close to him, he makes a face like he’s smelled something bad.”
Andre swallowed. He… understood that to an extent, but to be so openly averse… just wasn’t polite. Unbecoming of an angel, really. “That’s unfortunate,” Andre said, then got the idea for something that would surely make him appear more demon-friendly. “But hey, maybe he’s just been told a lot of bad things about demons. I can talk to him, see if he’ll come around.”
“You can talk to him, sure, but just make sure you don’t make it sound like I asked you to,” Camila said. “Because I’m not. Got that?”
“Uh, y-yeah, I’ve got that,” Andre said. “Besides, even if you had asked me to talk to him, I wouldn’t tell on you. I’m not that kind of person, I swear.”
Camila huffed. “Good.”
Andre resumed his eating, and so did the demonesses for the little they had left. Once done, they brought back their dishes and each headed into their quarters to unpack. Andre arrived at the room number he was assigned, 112C, and unlocked the door. He stepped in, and unsurprisingly, Red was also there. The demon was on his bed, lying on his back with his hands behind his head. His horns seemed to be gone. He'd probably made them disappear the way Andre assumed the chauffeur had made his tail disappear.
Red stared at Andre for a moment, his expression mostly blank with a tinge of irritation, then directed his gaze back to the ceiling.
Andre sighed quietly. He supposed he should try to talk to him, no matter how little either of them wanted it, no matter how there was a non-zero chance of a mauling.
Andre cleared his throat. “You know,” he began, “if we're gonna be pairs, I think we should try to get along.”
Red frowned, but didn't look at Andre. “We'll get along as well as we get along.”
Andre frowned in turn. He let something slip before thinking. “You could make at least a bit of an effort.”
Red looked into Andre's eyes. Andre’s stomach sank. What had he done? Why would he give a demon lip? Was he stupid?
Then again, he knew he couldn’t just be a doormat. There was always a chance that demons would think even less of someone for not standing up for themselves. Andre just wished he wasn’t so afraid. Or have that other feeling, that feeling he knew he shouldn’t have because it wouldn’t lead to anything good…
“I'll do what I want,” Red said, returning his gaze to the ceiling.
Andre slowly took a deep breath in and out. “Alright,” he said.
Silence returned to the room, and Andre determined that the conversation was over. He walked over to his bag, began unpacking, unpacked, and finished unpacking. Not that there was much to do - just place the items in the chest of drawers at the foot of his bed.
When the bag was empty, he gave Red another look. He was still staring at the ceiling.
Andre figured that staying here was going to be bad for his mental health. He didn't know if going out was much better, but he could at least try.
“I'm going to the rec room,” he said, ready to exit the room.
“Why do you think I care?” Red said.
Andre sighed quietly. “I just figured that we, as pairs, would like to know where we're going.”
“Well, I don't. And I'm not gonna be telling you shit about where I'm going.”
God, what a jackass. “Alright, then,” Andre mumbled and left the room.
Andre, being someone with a sharp memory, had no trouble finding his way back to the rec room. Unlike the first time, it was now in active use - demons sitting on the couches, the beanbag chairs, the floor or by the table and playing with cards or the pinball machine or just watching the TV by the ceiling. Andre stepped closer to the TV to make sense of what was going on - looked like some kind of… arena fight? A crimson-furred bull with four horns and tusks pawed at the ground, then charged at a large draconic demon - was that demon a person or an animal? - only to be grabbed by the skull and -- oh Arukei. Andre quickly looked away so that he wouldn’t subjected to another gory nightmare.
Instead, he looked around, trying to find either the angel inmate or Alice or Camila. He couldn’t spot any of them, but he did spot someone else that caught his attention.
In the far corner of the room stood a lanky Eastern demoness with short black hair. Bangs with a navy blue streak covered her forehead, and she wore a hoodie and jeans in other, even more inoffensive shades of blue. She had the ears of a black cat at the top of her head, partially flattened, and her eyes were yellow with slit, albeit dilated, pupils. Her tail, all black, brushed against her legs, tucking itself between them every now and then.
Even without the feline body language, it was obvious that the girl was distressed. She was grasping her arms, her black-furred thumb stroking up and down, and she was even… shaking? Good Arukei, she must have been feeling terrible. And there was no one to comfort her.
Well, Andre could help with that. Andre should help with that.
Andre walked through the room, weaving past the groups of demons, and arrived before the cat-demoness. She noticed him, but avoided his gaze, possibly hoping that he wasn’t there for her. Andre hesitated for a moment, wondering if his talking to her would actually bring her even more distress, but ultimately decided to speak.
“Hey,” Andre said with a friendly smile. The demoness glanced at him, then past him, then at the ground, then at him again, then at the ground again, then past him again. Eye contact was clearly uncomfortable for her.
Still, Andre continued. “I’m Andre. What’s your name?”
“...Suki,” she said quietly.
“Nice to meet you, Suki.”
“Likewise…”
Andre looked away himself. Maybe that would make her more comfortable. “You don’t know anyone here, I take it?”
Suki shook her head. “No, it’s just me…”
“Not even your pair?”
“No, he’s… we don’t get along.”
“Mm. I know the feeling. My pair doesn’t like me either.”
“What’s your… pair like?”
She was getting a bit more confident. Good. “Did you spot that guy with the dog ears and the studded leather jacket?”
Suki looked Andre in the eyes long enough to nod. “Yeah.”
“Well, he’s not very nice.”
“Mm…” She nodded again. “My pair’s not nice either.”
“Who’d you get paired up with?”
“Jake,” she said. “I don’t remember his last name. But he’s the guy with the pig head.”
Andre remembered seeing someone like that around. “Don’t know him,” Andre said, “but now I’ll know to avoid him.”
“Yeah.”
A spell of silence. Andre was about to break it, but to his surprise, Suki was the one to speak next.
“Are you from Heaven?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Andre answered.
“Is it nice there?”
“It was nice there,” Andre said. “Or, well, probably still is. I can’t go back, though.”
“Oh,” she said. “Was that your punishment?”
“In addition to this program, yeah.”
“Right, yeah…” Suki nodded again. Then she shuddered.
Andre tilted his head. “Are you cold?”
“No, it’s just withdrawal from --” Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth. “Oh, no, no. No, I shouldn’t have said that, oh…” She grasped her head next, sharp claws emerging from her fingertips.
Andre froze. “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m -- yes, I’m okay, I’m --” She began breathing heavily. “I-I have to go!”
She dashed past Andre, squeezed her way through the groups of demons with feline agility and exited the room. Andre contemplated going after her, but maybe it was better not to. He didn’t want to upset her any further.
Not too long after, though, a pair of familiar women walked through the door - Alice and Camila. They noticed Andre, too, and made their way to him.
“Hey, Andre!” Alice greeted. “Long time no see.”
“Hey there,” Andre said. “Did your unpacking go well?”
“Yeah. They have more storage room here than I expected.” She paused as Andre nodded, then continued. “How’d it go with Red? If he was there, that is.”
“Yeah, he was there,” Andre sighed. “He made it pretty clear that he’s not interested in being civil.”
“Oh, sorry to hear,” Alice said. “Will you be asking for a reassignment, then?”
Andre crossed his arms. “Mm… no, I don’t think I will. I mean, I’m pretty sure I can still handle this. Plus, if I ask for a reassignment, someone else will be stuck with him, and I might get someone worse. I think I’m just gonna try making this work.”
“Well, you do you,” Alice said. She glanced at Camila, since she’d been quiet, and saw that she was occupied with watching the battle on TV. “Camila?”
“Yeah?” Camila turned around. “Sorry, they got a pack of bonecrushers tearing apart a sinner.”
“Ah, okay.”
“What's a bonecrusher?” Andre asked. He almost glanced at the TV before he remembered he didn't want to subject himself to that.
Are you sure? It’s a sinner. He was probably a rapist or something. You’ve already helped send a lot of them here. You know they deserve it. You know you want to revel in their pain.
Camila looked to Andre. “A breed of hellhound.” She grinned. “I love hellhounds. My family breeds ‘em, so I’ve been around them my whole life.”
“Hellhounds,” Andre repeated. He realized that the top Camila wore had a stylized horned canine skull on it. “I’ve heard of those. What are they like? Are they like dogs with horns or what?”
“You can see for yourself,” Camila said, gesturing to the TV, but Andre raised his hands.
“No, thank you, I think I’d prefer a verbal description. What’s playing on there is too much for me.”
“Huh.” Camila scratched her chin. “Right, angel.” She cleared her throat, and her grin returned. “So, yeah, hellhounds are like dogs. We don’t have dogs here, but the sinners have told us about them - drawn pictures, too. The difference between a dog and a hellhound is that the latter has horns and a whiplike tail with an arrow-shaped tip, like many demons.” It sounded like she was reciting some text she’d read many times. “I love them. They’re awesome. Do they have dogs in heaven?”
“Well, not regular dogs, but we do have heaven-hounds.”
“Heaven-hounds?”
“Yeah. They’re also like dogs, but have halos and wings, like angels. Only they can actually fly with them. We angels can’t. Arukei’s decision, for whatever reason.”
“Oh, yeah. I was wondering about that,” Camila said. “The fences they have here wouldn’t be very effective if you could just take off, I guess.”
“Yeah.”
Alice nodded and spoke up again. “So, could you tell us more about Heaven again?“
“Oh, sure thing,” Andre said. “Let’s see. Where to begin…”
---
At 10:24 PM, Andre took off his glasses and lay down on his new bed for the first time. He let himself simply breathe for a moment while staring at the white ceiling.
Well, here he was, at the end of his first day in Hell. A lot had happened. Maybe he should write it down? He might forget to tell Ellie about something interesting later when he wrote his first letter.
No, it was fine. He could do it tomorrow. Right now, he just wanted to rest.
He took one last look at Red. The demon was lying in his own bed, facing the wall, probably already asleep. Hopefully he wouldn’t snore.
Andre took a deep breath and let it out. However uncooperative Red would be, he’d just have to deal with it. And, hey, it would probably work out. After all, Red had been rude - very rude - but not actively malicious so far. He could have been a lot worse.
Clinging onto that, Andre shut off his bedside lamp and nestled under the blanket. It was thinner than the one at home, just like the mattress, but Hell was warmer anyway. He’d be fine.
He closed his eyes and began waiting for sleep.
---
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