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Author's Notes and Chapter One - Welcome to Hell
  • canisaries

    you should've known the price of evil
    Premium
    Location
    Stovokor
    Pronouns
    she/her
    Partners
    1. inkay-shirlee
    2. houndoom-elliot
    3. yamask-joanna
    4. shuppet
    5. deerling-andre
    6. omanyte
    7. hizzap
    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 become friends and possibly more. However, people seem to be mysteriously disappearing 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, brief mentions of suicide
    • Mentions of or backstory involving sexual harassment and sexual assault
    *The story isn't entirely planned out yet, so I can't be certain about this

    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.

    Currently (March 19th 2025 onward), I am especially looking for thoughts on the first chapter as I have just revised it and want to know if it succeeds in hooking you into the setting and plot. (June 20th addition: Now also looking for feedback on whether the worldbuilding is clear or confusing.)

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

    Red:
    redpunk.png

    Andre:
    angelanddemon_andreonly.png

    Old cover:
    cordaemonis_cover_simple.png

    ---

    Cor Daemonis

    cordaemoniscoverdetailedSMALLER.png

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

    Genre:
    Fantasy, Romance, Mystery

    Status:
    Ongoing

    Length:
    TBD

    ---

    CHAPTER ONE
    Welcome to Hell


    ---
    Exact date unknown (before March 19th, 2025):
    - Andre is now more apprehensive when it comes to demons, even afraid.
    - Heaven is now more restrictive about the kind of sexual material it allows, criminalizing things that they deem "dangerous" or "abusive" or "degrading", such as pornography with BDSM elements. Andre agrees with Heaven's justifications even if it means feeling shame and fear about his attraction towards demons, who must surely also be "dangerous".

    March 19th, 2025:
    - Condensed chapter a substantial amount. Certain worldbuilding and character details mentioned before have now been left unmentioned, meaning later references to them may be edited to reintroduce them as if they're new information.
    - Removed lack of nudity taboo in Hell.

    June 20th, 2025:
    - Several small clarifying and condensing edits.

    ---

    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 emberjay 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. For a moment, he almost considered yelling that he should have crushed the woman's soul-marble and sent her ass to Terminus, but that really wouldn't have looked good.

    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

    Crimson, cloudless sky above the car. Black asphalt underneath it. Dusty crimson soil as far as the eye could see to the left and the right.

    ‘Plains of Despair’, this place was called. Andre had learned that such names were mundane for Hell and thus not always descriptive, but they certainly elicited despair in this angel.

    In a few minutes’ time, he’d arrive at the Crimson Plains Criminal Rehabilitation Center, the place he’d been sentenced to spend four months in. He didn’t know what this ‘Young Adult Rehabilitation Program’ would be like - only that it was an experimental criminal rehabilitation program for demons that was claimed to be comparable in humaneness to angel penitentiaries. Andre would have been put into an angel penitentiary himself, but with the Blackwing bust, they’d simply been overcrowded. At least they’d cared enough to get him into something vaguely equivalent instead of simply throwing him in a regular Infernal prison or, Arukei help him, a torment facility.

    Still, it was Hell. While the angels and virtuous humans of Heaven weren't allowed to know all that much about it, they knew the gist. Crime, corruption, exploitation, horrid climate. A population made up of demons and sinful humans, the former created to punish the latter in ways that ranged from harassment to torture.

    Demons… yes, he'd seen his first ever demon just a few hours ago. In fact, he was still here, driving this car. With red skin, horns and an arrow-tipped tail, he was straight out of a textbook. Though the others hadn't been. On the way here, he'd seen a lot of demons either from the car window or at the pit stop - named Snake Pit Stop, very funny - and realized that they really could just be anything. Some looked like regular humans except for their odd animalistic feature like goat legs or bat wings, others were fully reptilian or insectoid, and a few rare ones seemed to be a collection of wriggling tentacles in humanoid form.

    As for their temperaments, the chauffeur had called Andre 'scrawny' and mockingly questioned his gender. It wasn't that bad in the grand scheme of things, but it was entirely possible that he was among the top percentage of demons in terms of niceness…

    He leaned back in his seat, trying to find some comfort, eternally grateful that angels’ wings and halos weren’t tangible - though he wasn’t grateful for the handcuffs around his wrists. The prison escorts to his left and right glanced at him sharply, both of them angels as well.

    Andre groaned. “Seriously?” he asked. he asked, no longer caring about politeness. “I’ve been a perfect prisoner this entire time, and you still think I’m some kind of psycho that needs to be under constant surveillance?”

    “You’re a Blackwing,” the male escort said. The female escort stayed silent.

    “Blackwings don’t do what they do because they’re violent maniacs of some kind,” Andre growled.

    The male escort huffed. “Of course. Hitmen are famous for being pacifists.”

    Andre sighed. The real Blackwings weren’t hitmen, but he knew it was pointless to argue.

    “Sorry to interrupt the debate,” the demon driving said in his chainsmoker’s voice, “but I figure you’d like to know that we’re almost there.”

    Andre leaned forward and looked through the windshield, trying to yet again ignore the smudges on his glasses that he hadn’t been able to wipe away with his hands restrained. A complex of buildings, ash-gray and surrounded by a tall fence, had appeared in the distance. The angel deflated. Well, he thought, this is it.

    They arrived in silence. At the gate of the fence, Andre and the others were identified by a guard with three eyes, and the car was allowed to pass. A thought occurred to Andre that the escorts riding with him might be the last angels he would see in a very long time, if for the rest of his life… until they passed by the entrance of the first building.

    Another 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 - a large black duffel bag. The chauffeur stayed put, though. He’d wait for the escorts to return and then take them back to Heaven.

    In the warm, 30-degree, brimstone-scented weather, 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 originally came 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!” He extended his hand.

    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, taking Samson’s hand and shaking it. His grip was robust, not at all hesitant like Andre’s.

    “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, furred and clawed hands in handcuffs and his jacket was open to show a white shirt with a low neckline resting on top of some well-trained pecs.

    For a split second, some lower process in Andre’s soul-marble told him to go for it. Socialize, establish what he wanted, have the demon hopefully agree, have a good time together. But that would be a terrible idea. Andre still didn’t know exactly how accurate Heaven’s notions about demons were, but surely there was some truth to them. That they were… violent, selfish. It simply wouldn’t be safe for an angel to have sexual relations with one. Perhaps not even for a demon.

    This wasn’t the first time he’d wrestled with this.

    “Can you two birdboys quit your chirping?” the demon said. “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 a metal detector at the end of the room they entered - Andre had already been through one back at the portal facility, which had made him briefly muse on how Hell had to rely on electricity since holy energy wasn’t available - 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?”

    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.

    It did make Andre a little anxious, though. He knew he looked androgynous with his youthful face, narrow figure and his wavy, caramel brown, chin-length hair. Really, he’d always liked that about himself - he liked being ‘that pretty boy’, and his various dates had certainly found it desirable. But if Hell was like Earth but forty years back and with an additional heaping of toxic masculinity, feminine men were probably looked down upon. Would that mean that he’d have to hide his sexuality, too?

    Regardless, 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 like Andre. 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, especially if they were the same sex as him.

    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 eighteen and twenty-five 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.

    Right. He’d already realized on the pit stop on the way here that Hell slaughtered real animals for their food, just like Earth. No ethically cultivated lab meat for him here. And no vegetarian options. Hell seemed to consider that too… unmasculine. Or maybe demons simply couldn’t subsist on plant proteins.

    Andre couldn’t starve himself, though, so he’d just have to suck it up and --

    “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 commonly known fact 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 has a blue sky, for one. And the plants are green.”

    “Like on Earth?”

    "Yeah. Arukei wanted humans to feel at home." Andre paused, gathering up his courage to ask a question. “How much exactly do you know about Earth around here?”

    “Things,” Alice said. “The sinners get milder sentences if they provide us with information about Earth.”

    “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.

    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 - the strict security at the portal, the warm air with rotten-egg smell outside, the congested metropolis of Torment City with its rampant advertising - especially of sexual services, a tangent on how there is no private sector in Heaven, the factories spouting thick, black smoke, Snake Pit Stop at which Andre first realized the meat problem, the rest of the way to the facility. Upon Andre’s mention of lab meat, Alice immediately prompted him to tell her more 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 that, though, Andre could resume the recounting 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 wasn’t pleasant, and hardly just because the food was cold. He couldn’t help but think of the horrid conditions these animals must have spent their whole lives in only to be killed and skinned and cut up into marketable chunks which then were cut up further and cooked and served and chewed and swallowed and digested and…

    “Well, while you’re eating, I should tell you stuff about that other angel,” Camila said.

    “Hmm?” Andre vocalized, mouth still full of dead animal tissue -- No, concentrate on what was said. 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, more easily now that he had something else on his mind. He… understood Eric’s reaction 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 in order to sit in the driver’s seat and how Andre made his glowing wings and halo disappear every night so that he could actually get some sleep.

    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.

    ”Yeah, they’re awesome,” Camila said. “I guess they don’t have those in Heaven, though?”

    “Well, we don’t have hellhounds, no, but we do have heaven-hounds.”

    Heaven-hounds?”

    “Yeah. They’re like Earth 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. Lots of culture shock in one day. How would he fare here? Would he even pass the program, paired up with Red?

    He looked 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.

    In fact… none of the demons Andre had met had been that bad. Even though most of them were supposed to be criminals. Was Heaven… wrong about them? Well, maybe not entirely. Alice and Camila did still say demons enjoyed violence, and the gladiator battles in the rec room corroborated that theory. They had to still be… dangerous, right?

    Well, regardless, it was hard to be glad about being proven wrong about demons for too long. Andre’s situation still sucked. He was in Hell, far from Heaven, and he’d never get to go back home. He would never be able to see Ellie again, or Katie, or his parents or his brothers… even if most of his family hated him now, knowing that he was a Blackwing.

    Ellie, though. Ellie had only been sad. Sad that her brother was jailed, then sent away to Hell, forced to live in the realm of sinners and demons. She hadn’t judged him for what he’d done or was assumed to have done, or if she did, she didn’t let it show.

    Andre’s stomach twisted. He missed her so much. He missed home. He missed the days before the bust. When all his relationships were still intact. His friends, Katie especially, her drawings and her writing. Yet he knew he’d done the right thing. That Blackwing’s mission had been righteous.

    He sighed. Maybe… maybe there was a chance he could let all of that go here. Start anew. If he didn’t simply starve or get sent to a worse prison after this one, maybe he could… make some kind of life for himself. However meager.

    And he could still write to Ellie, right? He’d promised he would, and he’d been told that it was possible. The angels of Hell were still allowed to send mail to Heaven and receive it all the same. Whether that’s really work in practice, though, he’d just have to find out.

    Deciding it was time to stop thinking and just turn in, 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, withdrew his wings and halo and began waiting for sleep.

    ---​
     
    Last edited:
    Chapter Two - Squealer
  • canisaries

    you should've known the price of evil
    Premium
    Location
    Stovokor
    Pronouns
    she/her
    Partners
    1. inkay-shirlee
    2. houndoom-elliot
    3. yamask-joanna
    4. shuppet
    5. deerling-andre
    6. omanyte
    7. hizzap
    Okay! It's time for the second chapter. Before that, though, I should mention a few changes I added to the first chapter after it was first uploaded:

    <changelog moved to first chapter's post>

    They're not huge things, but I think they help make both Heaven and Andre more interesting. Also, I'm aware that the exposition and structure still have problems, but as those would require a lot more work to change, I'm leaving them be in order to focus on continuing the story.

    Now for the actual chapter. Content warning for implication of sexual assault in backstory, homophobia, fantasy xenophobia and sexual themes. Rating is mature. Enjoy!

    ---

    CHAPTER TWO
    Squealer


    ---
    June 7th, 2025:
    - The devil sequence from Red's dream has been changed. The devil now bargains for longer and is recognized as a snake-demon by his way of speaking.

    ---

    Red

    Red walked through the narrow hallway, its walls off-white in the warm light of the lamps buzzing above. Doors and noticeboards and framed posters detailing theses passed him one after another on both sides. Red only cared about the numbers painted onto the upper right corners of each door. 204H, 205H, 206H and so on. His destination was 213H. He’d never been there before, and he hoped he’d never have to go there again, but who fucking knew…

    Okay. There. There it was. Ms Chambers’ office. He should knock. But… the door was cracked.

    Red breathed in and out. It was probably still better to knock. He didn’t want to make her angry. He needed to pass this course for his degree, and he needed to pass on her terms, since she was the only one who taught it. No matter what it took.

    He knocked.

    “Come in, it’s open,” Ms Chambers’ voice said from within.

    Red pushed the door open and slipped inside. Ms Chambers was sitting at a desk with a computer and neatly organized stacks of papers. She seemed to be writing in a notebook. The blinds of the window were shut, but the evening sun was still shining through.

    Ms Chambers looked up and smiled. “Close the door, please,” she said.

    Red did as asked. When the lock clicked, though, everything came back as if with a strike of lightning.

    He’d been here before, he’d had this conversation before, he’d --

    He tried to twist the lock, but the handle came off and flew out of his hand onto the floor, shattering like sugar glass.

    Ms Chambers chuckled, and every exhalation was the lashing of a whip. “Surely I’m not that scary?”

    Red turned around slowly. The woman had stood up and was approaching, the talons of her avian feet clacking on the floor, echoing unnaturally. Her serpentine tail slithered from side to side, relaxed.

    “Let’s just talk, Red,” she said, arriving right before him.

    Red remembered how this had played out, and it certainly hadn’t been just talking. Would it end up the same way this time? Would he have to relive all of it?

    No. If it had already happened, if he couldn’t change it anymore… he had nothing to lose.

    He’d skip to the end.

    Red snarled and swiped at the woman’s face. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t dodge - but she didn’t take the hit, either.

    Her form dissolved into dust.

    What?

    Everything in the room dissolved to dust, then the room itself. Red was left standing in a dark void.

    "You have been wronged."

    That was a voice Red didn’t recognize. It was raspy and sounded like it belonged to a man, though it had a feminine quality to it.

    Red frowned. "Yeah?"

    "I can tell it angerssss you."

    A drawn out sibilant. This had to be a snake-demon. But Red didn't know any snake-demons.

    "And?" Red replied.

    "You must want revenge."

    Revenge. Red had thought of it many times. Even if he'd certainly hurt her already… she still deserved worse. But…

    "It doesn't matter," Red said. "I have other things to worry about."

    "Nonssssense. You cannot brusssh it aside. You cannot ressssst until ssshe's gone."

    Red crossed his arms. "How do you figure I do that? I'm in jail."

    "There isss a way. With my power."

    Power…?

    "All you mussst do isss agree to a deal."

    Deal.

    Red realized who - or what - he was talking to.

    "Yeah, no," he said. "I don't want to agree to any deal. Fuck off, devil."

    "You are yet to even hear all the benefi-"

    The voice cut himself short as Red raised his middle finger.

    “Very well, then,” the voice said. “Enjoy your pathetic, worthlessss life.”

    “Can’t be that worthless if you’re here to suck my dick over it,” Red muttered.

    The voice didn’t respond. He’d probably left. Red wondered how long he’d be stuck in this voi-

    He awoke.

    Red sat up in his bed, sighing. It was dark in the dorm room but not quite pitch black thanks to the lightposts glowing outside.

    He looked over to his angel roommate. Andre seemed to be sound asleep. His halo and wings were gone, though. Maybe they just turned off automatically when sleeping, just like demons’ horns and tails and such withdrew.

    Well, whatever. Just because there was a…

    There was a…

    What exactly was there? He’d dreamt about something. But if it had been a dream, then it wasn’t really there, right?

    Red sighed again, rubbing his forehead, feeling furless fingers with simian nails instead of canine claws. Whatever. He should just go back to sleep. Who knew how rough tomorrow would be.

    He settled back into his bed and closed his eyes.

    ---

    Andre

    A series of ascending dings woke Andre up.

    “Good morning, everyone!” spoke a voice through the speaker above the dorm room’s door - Samson’s voice. He sounded cheerful. “It’s 8 AM, so time to rise and shine! Breakfast will be served in thirty minutes, at half past, and at nine o’clock, the morning assembly will begin in the gymnasium. It’s important that everyone shows, so don’t forget about it, and make sure your pair doesn’t forget either! Samson out!”

    Andre sat up and stretched. He’d barely been able to register what Samson had said - he’d barely realized where he even was at the beginning. Fortunately, it was information that they’d all been told yesterday as well, so he didn’t miss anything.

    He looked over to Red, who had also sat up and seemed to be simply processing things just like Andre at the moment. Andre contemplated saying something, but decided against it. He’d probably just be an ass again.

    The two got up and fetched their toiletries to bring with them to the bathrooms. Red brushed his teeth, and Andre brushed his for the first time ever, glancing at Red to see how it was done. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice.

    He did say something afterwards, though, looking directly at Andre with a stern expression.

    “You are not showering at the same time as me, by the way.”

    Andre frowned. He decided he could afford to stand up for himself a little bit. “Because I’m a queer, right?”

    “You catch on fast,” Red said and left the room.

    Andre sighed. He supposed he would just have to kill some time before Red was done.

    He decided to go back to his room and begin working on his letter to Ellie. He’d had time to list yesterday’s events in his notebook in preparation for the first draft before he realized that he actually didn’t have the proper kind of paper for a letter. Maybe Samson knew where to get some. Or it would simply be easy to find in the library.

    The library, yeah, he could visit that today. He was curious as to what kind of books they wrote in Hell, anyway…

    The door opened, and a damp-haired Red walked in. Andre glanced at the clock - 10 minutes left until breakfast. He’d have to shower quickly if he wanted to have time to groom himself properly. Or maybe it wouldn’t matter so much if he was a bit late to breakfast. Would they really run out?

    Well, he’d better stop sitting around wondering about it when time was limited.

    Ultimately, Andre ended up being about five minutes late. It seemed that he was correct in it not mattering much, though, as there was still enough food left. Oatmeal. It didn’t look very appetizing, but Andre didn’t have very high expectations for prison food to begin with.

    When the time came to choose where he would sit, he scanned the hall for Alice and Camila, but couldn’t spot them. He could, however, spot Eric, who was sitting alone.

    Andre felt a little conflicted. He finally had the opportunity to talk to the only other angel inmate in the program, but Camila had suggested yesterday that he wasn’t a great person. Still, he supposed he had sort of promised to talk to the angel and try and make him act a bit nicer towards demons, even if he’d said it mostly to appear more demon-friendly. Andre made his way to the table and cleared his throat to catch Eric’s attention.

    “May I sit here?” Andre asked.

    “Oh, by all means,” Eric said, smiling.

    Andre took a seat. “So, you’re Eric, right?”

    Eric nodded. “That’s correct. What’s your name?”

    “Andre.”

    “Nice to meet you, Andre.”

    “Nice to meet you too,” Andre replied. Well, so far Eric didn’t seem so bad, even if Andre knew that his friendliness didn’t extend to demons. The angel also reminded Andre of Samson in both appearance and behavior. Andre briefly wondered if the two were related, but decided they likely weren’t, as Samson could have brought that up before had that been the case.

    “So…” Andre continued. “Camila tells me that you don’t really get along with demons?”

    Eric huffed. “Well, obviously. They’re demons.”

    At least he was direct about it. “May I ask you to elaborate?”

    Eric raised a brow. “Is there something confusing about it?”

    “Well, I know what they say in Heaven about them, but don’t you think there’s a chance they’re mistaken? Us angels aren’t exactly well-informed about Hell.”

    “Arukei’s word is rather unambiguous on the matter.”

    “Word?” Andre thought back to what he knew of Arukei’s announcements. Even Arukei had been quiet about the goings-on of Hell since the Uprising 2000 years ago… and he’d mostly just said that he condemned the mutiny and that a demon’s duty was to maintain Hell just as it was an angel’s duty to maintain Heaven. Nothing about demons being particularly evil, really…

    “It’s stated very clearly in the Shimmerbrook Scrolls that demons are --”

    Ah. “You’re a replacionist,” Andre said.

    “You say that as if it’s a bad thing,” Eric said, offended both at being cut off and what Andre had said.

    Andre sighed. “If that’s the case, I don’t think we’re going to have a very productive conversation here. See ya.” He got up and took his tray with him, deaf to the noises of disapproval coming from Eric, and looked around. Alice and Camila had arrived, good. He walked over and sat by them.

    “Hi, Andre,” Alice said with a smile. “I take it that didn’t go very well?”

    “He’s a fucking replacionist,” Andre sighed, his shoulders slumping.

    “What’s that?” Camila asked.

    “They think that Arukei was replaced by an impostor a long time ago because some guy forged some old scrolls that said so. That, and that the real Arukei actually thought that being gay was a sin and that women were supposed to be property. Really dumb shit that the vast majority of Heaven’s population knows is a grift.”

    “Wow, sounds like some of the politicians here,” Alice said.

    “Heaven’s been trying to stamp it out, but it’s a very persistent conspiracy theory,” Andre continued. “And we are supposed to have freedom of speech, at least to an extent.”

    “Hmm.” Alice took a sip of her glass of milk. “Freedom of speech is considered pretty important here, too. A nice thought, except the corporations don’t agree. If you shittalk them enough, they can sue you for defamation, even if what you said was clearly just an opinion or even a demonstrably true fact. Anything to protect their reputation in the eyes of customers.”

    “And they’ll win the case, too,” Camila chimed in. “If the more expensive lawyers don’t do it, the bribes will.”

    Andre nodded. It matched up with what he knew of Hell.

    “You know, we actually ended up here because of a freedom of speech issue,” Alice said.

    Camila laughed. “Lis, please. I punched a cop and you sprayed another with acid.”

    “Only because they were interfering with the protest,” Alice said dismissively. She looked to Andre. “We were going to protest peacefully, but, well… things got a little out of hand.”

    “No regrets,” Camila interjected.

    “What were you protesting?“ Andre asked.

    “The acquittal of this one CEO,” Alice replied. “He sexually harassed and/or assaulted at least 40 women working under him in his company.”

    ”Sounds like a piece of shit,” Andre said.

    “That’s putting it lightly.” Alice sighed. “Of course, these protests never seem to accomplish anything…”

    “But we gotta keep trying, right?” Camila asked, laying a hand on Alice’s shoulder.

    Alice smiled at her girlfriend. “Yeah. We can’t let them keep us down.”

    Andre nodded again. A lot of angels would have probably frowned upon violence at a protest, but Andre understood. Sometimes drastic action was needed to ensure the realization of humanoid rights. That’s what Blackwing was about.

    They continued discussing Heaven and Hell until the clock began to near 9 AM. They left for the gymnasium together, though had to split up into their own groups once there.

    Mr Ronove was the one speaking to them again, but this time he simply announced that they’d be given their timetables. Once those had been passed out alongside some study equipment and bags to carry them in, the assembly wrapped up quickly and the time came for the first lessons. For Andre, it seemed that his first class was ethics. Once he made it to the room listed in the timetable, he spotted Eric immediately. Oh boy. Ethics class with a replacionist.

    The classroom filled up gradually, and then the lesson began. This lesson was, after roll call, mostly Samson explaining what their curriculum would cover - it seemed very Arukei-flavored, which didn’t surprise Andre - but he did have time for some warmup questions at the end. Of course, he didn’t get far before Eric interrupted him to spout his misinformation. Samson attempted to deflect this by saying that Eric was allowed to have his own opinions, at which Eric insisted that his opinions weren’t opinions but fact, at which Samson sighed and played the authority card, saying that Eric would be removed from the class if he would continue to act disruptive. Eric almost proudly walked out before Samson reminded him that such behavior could get him thrown in real prison. That shut up the younger angel, though he wore a sour expression for what little remained of the lesson.

    After ethics, there was health education with a different teacher. Judging by the curriculum, it was largely similar in subject to what Andre had learned growing up in Heaven, but with a larger focus on emotional and social skills, likely because these facilitated rehabilitation.

    After health education, there was science. Andre was most interested in this as the books they were given detailed things about Hell’s biomes and wildlife. He knew he’d be reading that later on in his room, maybe also trying to sketch some of the strange animals like the lava bear or the lesser spotted wyvern.

    After science, it was time for lunch. Andre sat with Alice and Camila, talking about what had gone down in his ethics class, until a shout cut him short.

    “Hey, dog boy!”

    Andre looked over to see three demons approaching Red at the other end of the chow hall. The largest one, the one that looked like the leader, had the head of a monstrous pig - Suki’s pair, Andre recalled. The two others following him had heads that looked like a middle ground between human and insect, the taller one resembling a locust while the shorter one resembled a house fly. Andre fought against his initial reactions of disgust as he knew that a person not being easy on the eyes had no bearing on their character - unless Hell worked differently - but he also had a feeling that these three weren’t exactly going to subvert his gut instincts.

    Red glanced over at the demons, then looked back at his meal, trying to ignore them.

    “I’m talking to you, mutt!” the pig-headed demon said, his voice gruff, arriving by Red’s side. “Don’t ignore me!”

    Red continued to ignore him. He cut a piece off his fish stick and placed it in his mouth.

    The pig demon grabbed Red’s glass of water and splashed it on his face, making Andre wince. The insectoid friends laughed. That’s what it seemed like, anyway, though the noise was more of a strange chittering.

    Red got up, pushing back his chair so forcefully that it fell over and clattered against the floor. He spat away the piece of fish stick in his mouth before baring his fangs in a scowl, his hands balling into fists. Surprise flashed across the pig’s face, but it was quickly replaced by amusement. He opened his mouth to say something - something infuriating, no doubt - before a shout cut through the chow hall.

    “Hey! Behave!” a tall and muscular demon with a card hanging from his neck barked from the corner of the room. A guard.

    “We’re just playin’,” the pig said, raising his palms in feigned innocence.

    “Doesn’t look like it,” the guard said. “This will affect your record, Mr Manning.”

    “Tch. Fine.”

    The pig and his friends left the chow hall, and the usual murmur of the room returned. Red tried to dry off his face as well as he could with his napkin, then resumed eating.

    “What a dick,” Andre said.

    “Yeah,” Alice echoed. “The rumors around Jake suggest that he’s just your typical high school bully that never grew out of it.”

    “Now I really feel bad for Suki,” Andre said, turning to the demonesses. “That shy feline demoness, you know? I talked to her yesterday in the rec room before you two showed up.”

    “She got paired up with him?” Alice asked.

    Andre nodded. “Uh-huh.”

    “Ah.”

    “Well, I wouldn’t worry about it,” Camila said. “This is prison - essentially, anyway. Sooner or later, Jake’s gonna pick a fight with someone who’s not fucking around and get his shit kicked in.”

    “Even if whoever did that would have to go to real prison for it?” Andre asked.

    “Some kids aren’t scared,” Camila explained. “And some kids want to do time for the cred.”

    Cred. Street cred, street credibility. Right. Andre did know that from what he’d learned of Earth, now that he thought about it. It just hadn’t occurred to him, coming from a place where next to everyone thought criminal activity was shameful. He nodded. “I see.”

    “And some kids just can’t control themselves,” Alice added. “Did you see how Red reacted? If that guard hadn’t interrupted, he might have gone feral.”

    “Gone feral,” Andre repeated. “Does that just mean to get brutally violent, or is there some kind of thing with demons where you --”

    Alice waved a hand. “Just an expression,” she said. “Although…”

    “Although what?”

    “Beasters,” Camila said.

    “Beasters…?” Andre repeated.

    “Yeah, some demons are what we call ‘beasters’,” Alice said. “Or ‘werebeasts’, more officially. They can turn into a monster if they get angry enough, but usually lose control in the process. They… end up in prison pretty often as a consequence.”

    “That sucks,” Andre said. “Is anyone trying to make things better for them? Get them rehab instead of jailtime or something?”

    “Well, you might be in the very program that’ll serve as a starting point,” Alice replied. ”I wouldn’t be surprised if there was already a beaster here.”

    Andre looked around, apprehensive. Someone in here could turn into a monster? Become even stronger and more aggressive?

    “You can’t tell who’s one based on how they look,” Alice remarked.

    “I know that,” Andre said. He didn’t, actually.

    They were quiet for a while, enjoying their food - if one could call it that - before moving on to discussing Heaven and Hell again. Eventually, they finished their food and headed to their next classes.

    That day’s final class was physical education, and it was a class Red was also present in. Unfortunately, so was Jake. Andre, whenever he wasn’t busy trying not to get trampled, witnessed several instances where Jake acted disruptively towards Red - bumping into him, taunting him, even yanking his tail. Red seemed to be doing his best to control his growing anger and succeeding in it, though only barely. Andre could spot him closing his eyes and taking deep breaths multiple times.

    Andre found himself with an assortment of feelings. He was angry at Jake and how no one seemed to be stepping in, then ashamed as he realized he was one of the passive onlookers, then uneasy as he considered what Jake might start doing to him if he aligned himself with Red, then ashamed again as he realized what a coward he was and would continue to be. Then he felt pity towards Red as well as a surprising emotion - respect. Despite Red’s flaws, the dog-eared demon was still trying his best not to stoop to Jake’s level. That showed Red wasn’t completely immature.

    There was also curiosity towards that large scar on Red’s right arm, bare for the first time since Andre had seen him. Judging by the shape, he’d been slashed by something. But it had probably just been an accident or the result of a fight he got in as a kid. Andre knew better than to ask.

    After PE and dinner spent again with Alice and Camila, Andre decided to check out the library. It wasn’t anywhere close to the size of his local library in Blisstown, but it still housed more books than he could possibly get through in his four months here. He asked the librarian where they might keep their papers and envelopes as well as other questions about the mail policies of the center, and he was sufficiently satisfied with the answers. Having fetched the materials for his letter, he decided to check out the books there.

    The books didn’t look horribly different from what they had on Heaven or Earth - adventure, fantasy, rom… oh.

    Right, yes. It followed what he’d seen in the city that they wouldn’t have a problem having pornographic material here. He’d looked away from the ads of the city rather quickly, but now that the shock had passed - and it wasn’t so large and loud and in-your-face - his morbid curiosity got the better of him, and he took a closer look. He couldn’t deny the fact that it was a bit exciting to him...

    No, no, this was degenerate. Pornography should not be on full display like this, and it should not be degrading, which was a condition several books already failed by including words like ‘slut’ and ‘whore’. And those women that were bound? Gagged? Appealing to the most sadistic urges humanoids could have?

    There was no ‘romance’ about this. This was just abuse. This was evil. No wonder they called the angels caught lusting after this ‘demonhearts’.

    Don’t forget that you’re one of them.

    He quickly moved on from that section and went through the rest. Sci-fi, mystery, thriller, horror… horror in Hell must have been pretty extreme with the way gore was already normalized. He’d stay away from that for the sake of his own sanity.

    The door to the room opened, and Andre looked over - Suki. The demoness noticed him, too, and froze. Andre realized he was making her uncomfortable and resumed his browsing. He kept listening, however.

    “Hey,” the librarian said. “Need anything?”

    “Uh, I’d just like to browse, please,” Suki answered.

    “Sure thing.”

    Andre pretended to look at the horror section’s books. Suki didn’t seem like the kind of person who’d enjoy that genre, so he’d be best out of the way like that. He was surprised to see Suki arrive next to him, but then figured out that she was looking at the thrillers.

    Thrillers, too, were likely more hardcore in Hell. Maybe she had a stronger stomach than he expected. Well, she was a demon. Come to think of it, Andre was probably the most sensitive inmate this center had. After Eric. Hopefully.

    Eventually, Suki picked a book, borrowed it and left. Andre resumed his browsing, and upon finding a whodunit set in whatever demons thought Heaven was like, he did the same. With this and the science textbook, he wouldn’t be bored for a while.

    On his way back to his room, he spotted Red staring at something in the hallway. Andre followed his gaze and realized he was looking at a security camera by the ceiling.

    Was he… planning something?

    Sounds of conversation then arose from behind the corner. Andre recognized Jake’s voice and decided it was better to keep moving. Red seemed to have the same thought and began heading in the same direction as Andre.

    “Hey, look, it’s Red!” Jake shouted behind them.

    Red and Andre kept walking, not looking back.

    “Running away? What are you, a pussy?” Jake taunted, drawing more chitters from his insectoid friends that were apparently with him.

    Red didn’t react, continuing his walk. He was almost at the end of the hallway. Andre breathed slowly, hoping he’d keep that up, for both their sakes.

    “Faggot!”

    Red stopped. Andre stopped, too. He knew he wouldn’t like what was about to happen, but as Red’s pair, he had to keep an eye on him regardless.

    Red turned around and marched for Jake, who wore an unbearable smirk on his snout.

    “What’d you fucking call me?” Red growled.

    “You heard me,” Jake said. ”What are you gonna do about it?”

    Red’s fists tightened. Andre saw what was possibly his only opportunity to salvage the situation.

    “Red!” he shouted. “You can’t fight him. You’ll get us both in trouble.”

    Red glanced back angrily, then at the camera by the ceiling.

    Jake snorted, looking to the angel. “Oh, who are you, his boyfriend?”

    Having Red punch Jake didn’t seem like such a bad idea all of a sudden. Regardless, Andre forced himself to keep his cool. “My pair. We have pairs here, remember?”

    Jake was about to say something, but Red interrupted.

    “Jake.”

    Jake turned back to Red and cocked his head. “Yeah?”

    “Tomorrow in the northern yard, during lunch hour.”

    “Huh?” Jake raised his brow.

    “Tomorrow. In the northern yard. During lunch hour,” Red repeated with emphasis. “We’ll settle this then.”

    “Psh! Why not now? You chicken?”

    “Because there’s a camera right here, you fucking moron.”

    Jake looked around and spotted the camera.

    “There’s a blind spot in the northern yard,” Red continued. “We’ll have at least five minutes there.”

    Andre’s stomach sank. Goddammit, Red. This will obviously backfire!

    The pig’s eyes narrowed. “And why wait until tomorrow?”

    “The heat’ll be off. Right now, they’re seeing us talking, and they’ll be expecting us to take this somewhere else.”

    Jake stood up straight, combatting his usual hunch, and cracked his knuckles. “Alright, then. Not that I need five whole minutes to fuck you up.”

    “We’ll just have to see,” Red said, then turned around and headed for the end of the hallway. Jake began speaking with his friends, but Andre wasn’t paying attention to him anymore.

    “What the hell were you thinking?” Andre hissed as Red passed him, beginning to follow the demon. “You’re gonna get caught!”

    Red glanced over his shoulder, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Calm down. They’re not gonna find out.” He didn’t sound too convinced, though.

    Andre had to think of something. “Well, if you don’t call this off, I’m gonna…”

    He hesitated. Did he really want the brand of snitch? Would it be worth the presumed goodwill from the supervisors?

    He didn’t notice Red approach him before the demon grabbed him by the collar.

    “You’re gonna tell on me?” Red growled, staring into Andre’s eyes.

    Andre wasn’t expecting Red to get so up close and personal with him. He wasn’t expecting the twisting of his gut, that kind of twist.

    Oh god, no no no. Don’t let it show.

    Unfortunately, Red’s eyes widened, his nose wrinkling an instant later. He shoved Andre away, and the angel only barely managed to keep his balance.

    “Don’t fucking look at me like that,” Red said, keeping his voice low.

    Andre adjusted his collar, then hurried after Red who had already rounded the corner.

    “And don’t follow me,” Red said, not looking at Andre.

    “Our dorm room is this way,” Andre said.

    Red sighed. “Fine.” His tail whipped the air, and Andre flinched. The tip seemed sharp…

    They made their way to their dorm room in silence. Andre placed down his book and letter writing equipment as Red lay down own his bed with his hands behind his head.

    Andre took a moment to think about what to do next. Did he or did he not want to go to Samson about the upcoming fight? It made him a snitch, but he had a good reason to do it - preventing the fight wasn’t just in his own interest, but Red’s as well.

    But how bad would it exactly be for Andre if Red got caught in a fight? Instant failure? Fifty percent into failure? Twenty? Ten? That was data that he didn’t have. He should obtain it in order to make a more informed decision.

    He made to leave the room, but Red’s words stopped him.

    “Where are you going?” the demon asked - demanded.

    “Thought you didn’t want to know where I went,” Andre muttered back.

    “I have to make sure you're not gonna snitch on me.”

    “Well, I’m not. I’m going to the rec room to hang out.”

    Red narrowed his eyes and stared into Andre’s. Andre’s expression didn’t waver. He could be quite good at lying, at least whenever he was prepared. He couldn’t have been a Blackwing for several months otherwise.

    “Fine,” Red muttered and returned his gaze to the ceiling.

    Andre left the room and made his way to where he recalled Samson had pointed out his office was. He knocked on the door.

    “Come in,” came Samson’s voice from the other side.

    Looks like the door was unlocked, then. Andre opened the door and stepped into the office. It was somewhat cramped, but neatly organized. There was a noticeboard on the wall with photos of a family of angels - Samson, a woman, a teenage boy, a little girl that couldn’t have been older than six years and finally, a black-and-tan heaven-hound. There was also a drawing from what Andre supposed must have been the daughter, depicting her family. Their names were scribbled in - ‘Daddy’, ‘Mommy’, ‘Eli’, ‘ Mary’, ‘Rocco’. It looked rather good for a child’s drawing.

    “Admiring my daughter’s handiwork?”

    Andre looked to Samson, who was sitting at his desk with some documents in front of him. He was smiling.

    Andre smiled back. “As a matter of fact, yes,” he said. “She can draw very cleanly.”

    Samson grinned, and his halo spun a little faster. “Yep, she’s our little artist.” He paused, staring adoringly at the drawing, then turned back to Andre. “Did you have something on your mind?”

    “Yeah, kinda,” Andre said. “I was just wondering… how much your pair’s behavior influences your chances of passing, exactly.”

    “Hmm.” Samson scratched his ear. “Well, that’s something I can’t go into too much detail about. This was decided beforehand. Can’t share the exact grading criteria with the inmates or someone might start purposefully skirting the line, you know.”

    “I understand,” Andre said. He’d been prepared to hear that, but he wasn’t happy about it. “Still, would you say that a pair’s mistake will have as big of an effect on the other pair’s record as their own, or is it lesser?”

    “Oh, lesser,” Samson said. “But it also depends on how realistically the other pair could have convinced the first pair not to go through with it. If, say, a beaster beasts out, that’s nothing on their pair. Do you know what a beaster is?”

    “I do,” Andre said. He scratched his cheek. He supposed he could shoot a certain question about that. “Are any of the inmates we have now beasters?”

    Samson shook his head and raised a palm. “‘Fraid I can’t tell you that, buddy,” he said. “Whether someone is a beaster or not is a private, confidential matter. It’s like… medical conditions in Heaven. Except you’ll find that Hell isn’t so accepting of beasters.”

    “Was also told that, yeah,” Andre said.

    Samson leaned back, crossing his arms. “So, did you… have a reason to ask me about grading?”

    Andre sighed. “Well, I just wanted to have a bit of a clarification, that’s all…” He should decide quickly if he wanted to reveal Red’s plans.

    “Has Red done something? Or is he going to do something?”

    Andre crossed his arms and looked elsewhere. After a pause, he spoke. “You know that my telling on someone who was going to do something would make me a snitch, right? Hypothetically speaking.”

    “I do understand that,” Samson said, “but you should also know that things will pan out better for the both of you grading-wise if you let us know about any planned infractions. Hypothetically speaking.”

    Andre had thought so. He pursed his lips.

    “He doesn’t have to find out it was you,” Samson said. “Grading criteria are kept secret for the duration of the program, and even after the program, inmates will only know about their own score.”

    Samson made a good case.

    “Someone will see that I visited your room,” Andre said.

    “You came here to ask about grading,” Samson said. “You needn’t have done anything more.”

    Andre took a moment, then unfurled his arms and looked directly at Samson.

    “Alright,” he said. “But you didn’t hear this from me.”

    Samson nodded with a smile and took out his notebook and pen.

    ---​

    Andre lay on his bed in the dark of his dorm room. It was time to sleep, but Andre was having an even harder time falling asleep this night than the previous one.

    Had he done the right thing? Would it come back to bite him in the ass? Would his reputation be ruined forever? What would Alice and Camila think?

    He’d spent time with them after his conversation with Samson, but Andre hadn’t said a word about Red’s plans or his own snitching. He figured that the fewer people knew of either, the better. He wouldn’t be dragging the demonesses down with him.

    He’d also, minutes ago, attempted to convince Red one last time to not go through with the fight, but he hadn’t listened. At least he didn’t seem to suspect Andre any more than before, perhaps even less so. And Andre only had about fourteen hours left of needing to keep the secret, eight of which would be spent asleep. Unless Red had some kind of dream-invading powers, he’d be fine. Probably.

    Andre sighed and rolled onto his other side. He couldn’t change anything about things now, so he should just forget it until the morning. Think of something nice instead. Like the animals he’d seen in the science textbook, and how he’d already managed to sketch some of them pretty nicely.

    Yeah, that was a better thought. That would help him sleep.

    ---​

    The next morning eventually came with another greeting by Samson through the intercom. Andre had managed to fall asleep at some point during the night, but it didn’t feel like he’d slept enough. Still, he pushed through his morning chores and his breakfast - there was no morning assembly today, as the timetable had promised and as Samson had reminded everyone - and arrived at his first class of the day, history. His excitement for the subject helped him shake off some of his drowsiness.

    Andre’s classmates arrived in the room, then his teacher. Once the clock hit 9 AM, the teacher cleared his throat and began roll call. He was an elongated humanoid with a head and neck like those of an earthworm, but with an unsettlingly human mouth on the end and a row of four beady eyes on both sides. Andre tried his best to suppress the primal reaction of disgust that came over him whenever he saw the teacher’s slimy skin glisten in the electric lamps’ light. He hated earthworms. Always had. But that wasn’t their fault, and it certainly wasn’t Mr Lambert’s fault. It was simply something inside Andre’s soul-marble.

    Still, the roll call proceeded as expected. The only surprise came when Mr Lambert called out the name of Jake Manning, and no one replied.

    “Jake Manning?” Mr Lambert repeated with his nasal voice - Andre didn’t know how it was possible to have a nasal voice without a nose - but the room remained silent. Andre glanced around the room, and there was, indeed, a distinct lack of any pig-men.

    Mr Lambert shook his head, which wobbled from side to side. “Missing first class,” he said, then clicked his tongue. “Not a good sign.”

    Andre took a little bit more time to think about the situation and decided that he wasn’t actually surprised in the least. Of course Jake would skip class, especially a class that was as ‘boring’ as history. Typical high school bully behavior.

    Mr Lambert marked down Jake’s absence, and the lesson continued as normal. Nothing strange happened during the next two lessons of the day, either. At lunch, though…

    “So, Andre, you hear about Jake yet?” Camila asked Andre, who’d just sat down at the table with her and Alice.

    “What about him?” Andre asked. Had he done something to Red? Had… Red done something to him? An eerie feeling began to emerge…

    “He escaped.”

    Huh? “Escaped?” Right, obviously, yeah. If you went missing in a prison, the first assumption was that you’d escaped.

    “Yeah, they can’t find him anywhere. Crazy shit, right?”

    “Yeah,” Andre said, grasping his chin in thought. “I wonder how he pulled that off. I know this place isn’t, like, airtight, but it seems secure enough to me.”

    “Yeah.” Camila sniffed, then glanced around before leaning in. “You, uh, wanna try it?”

    Andre froze, and so did Alice. “Like… getting out of here?” Andre asked.

    Camila held an inquisitive stare at the angel.

    “...No,” Andre said, frowning. “I’ve only been in Hell for two days. I couldn’t survive on my own out there. Besides, a fugitive angel in Hell? As good as caught. I’d rather take my chances here where I at least have a chance at freedom.”

    Camila closed her eyes and nodded sagely. “Mmm. Very smart, very smart.”

    Andre grimaced. “What, that was just a test?”

    The demoness smirked. “They say you only learn who a person really is by putting them in dramatic situations.” She waved a hand. “Anyway, I agree. It’s not worth the effort to try and bust out of this daycare. Not that I’d really think it was wrong in any way. Right, Lis?”

    Alice chuckled nervously. “Yeah,” she said. “You gave me a bit of a scare there, though…”

    “What?” Camila seemed actually offended at that. “Lis, you know me better than that. I’m not stupid.”

    “I didn’t mean to suggest you were, Mila, I just --”

    “You just what?”

    “It’s just that, sometimes, you can be . . .”

    As their argument continued, Andre decided this wasn’t for him to hear and tuned out, resuming eating his food. At a point, he realized that he’d already managed to forget about the real meat in this spaghetti sauce and briefly felt bad before reminding himself that it wouldn’t accomplish anything.

    Lunch concluded, and Andre headed to his next class. On the way there, however, a series of ascending dings rang out from the speaker in the hallway.

    “Andre Duval, report to Mr Ronove’s office,” spoke an unfamiliar woman. “Repeating: Andre Duval, report to Mr Ronove’s office.”

    Andre raised a brow. What did they want with him? Had Red done something?

    He navigated to the head supervisor’s office and knocked on the door.

    “Come in,” Mr Ronove’s voice said.

    Andre entered the room and closed the door behind him. Mr Ronove’s office was much more spacious than Samson’s, which made sense - he was the guy running the place, after all.

    Speaking of Samson, he appeared to be here as well, sitting on a stool by Mr Ronove’s desk with arms crossed. Seeing Andre, though, he gave a friendly smile and nod.

    “You wanted to see me…” Andre began, then remembered something that may have been important. “Sir.”

    “Yes,” Mr Ronove said, sitting behind his desk. It looked like it was made of fine wood, more expensive than Samson’s. “I suppose you’re wondering why.”

    “A little,” Andre replied. He glanced at the second, unoccupied stool in front of the desk.

    “Please, have a seat,” Mr Ronove said. Andre couldn’t tell if he’d noticed his interest in the stool or if that was just something he would have said anyway. Regardless, Andre took his seat before returning his gaze to the well-dressed demon.

    “Have you heard that an inmate by the name of Jake Manning has gone missing?” Mr Ronove asked.

    “Yes,” Andre said. What did that have to do with him? “He escaped, right?”

    Mr Ronove leaned back in his chair. A very comfortable desk chair, it appeared. Had he brought all this nicer furniture in, or had it simply been here when he’d arrived?

    The demon spoke again, and Andre told himself to pay attention. “One could not be faulted for reaching that conclusion,” Mr Ronove said. “However…” He ran his fingers across his well-trimmed beard. “Mr Manning has a certain medical condition. I will respect him enough not to disclose which one, but it is one that requires daily treatment through medication. Were this medication forgotten, severe symptoms would occur. Symptoms that would cause great discomfort and pain and, if left untreated, death.”

    Andre nodded to show he was listening, though he still didn’t see where the demon was going with this.

    Mr Ronove leaned in, steepling his fingers. “Now, if I told you that Mr Manning appeared to have left behind his medication, what conclusion would you arrive at?”

    Now it made sense. “You’re suggesting he didn’t escape,” Andre said, “or, if he did, it wasn’t of his own volition.”

    Mr Ronove smiled. “Good.” He sat up straight. “Now, it is, of course, possible that Mr Manning simply forgot. A mistake he would be sure to regret. Enough to return here, as this is the only place within miles and miles that will provide him with that vital medication. If that ends up transpiring, this conversation can be safely forgotten.”

    “And if it doesn’t?” Andre asked.

    “It could mean multiple things,” Mr Ronove said. “It could mean that Mr Manning succumbed to his symptoms out in the plains. It could mean that he had people waiting for him with that medication on hand. But for you, the relevant option is that someone has done something with Mr Manning.”

    Andre tilted his head. “How is it relevant to me?”

    Mr Ronove looked to Samson, who looked to Andre and spoke.

    “Well, the gist of things is that we need someone to keep an eye on what’s going on among the inmates. Listen to rumors and report back, that sort of thing.”

    “You mean an informant,” Andre said. He didn’t quite like the idea. He was already a snitch once over - now he’d have to be one for who knows how many times?

    “That’s a good name for it,” Samson said. “In any case, we figured that you’d be the best person to ask.”

    Andre frowned. “What, did you tell the other staff that I came to you yesterday to report something? You promised me you wouldn’t.”

    Mr Ronove raised his brows as he looked at Andre, then Samson, then Andre. “I can assure you, Mr Duval, that that is news to me.”

    It was Andre’s turn to be surprised. “Oh.” Unless Mr Ronove was simply pretending, and this was a ruse.

    Samson shook his head. “I’d never break a promise I made to one of my group members. Well, unless someone’s life depended on it. You understand.”

    Andre nodded. Of course, one could interpret a multitude of situations as fulfilling that criterion…

    “Either way, I just let everyone know that I think you’re a stand-up kid,” Samson said. “And, well, the angel part doesn’t hurt. You know how we are.”

    “Hm.” Andre glanced at the floor. “You know what I’m in here for, right?”

    “I’m aware,” Samson said. “But even if you were a Blackwing, it was precisely because of your sense of justice, wasn’t it?”

    Andre stared at Samson. Had he…

    “Yes, I was briefed quite well about you beforehand,” Samson said. “While I don’t agree with what you did, I don’t see why it would make you want to work against us. I trust you find that we have been fair to you and your peers here?”

    “Well, the food sucks,” Andre muttered.

    Samson chuckled. “Budgetary concern, I’m afraid.”

    Andre glanced at the furniture again. Okay. “Fair enough,” he said anyway. “I do appreciate what this program is doing. I’d much rather be here than --”

    A thought flashed in Andre’s head like lightning. It was quite likely that he wasn’t allowed to say no.

    He glanced at Mr Ronove, who held a stern, knowing gaze. He glanced at Samson, who was smiling obliviously.

    Andre sighed. “Alright. I’ll be your informant.”

    “Wonderful!” Samson said. “You really are a good kid, Andre.”

    I’m twenty-one, thought Andre.

    “Yes, this is indeed most agreeable,” Mr Ronove said. “You will also find that this is not all so difficult a task. Simply keep an eye and an ear out for things that could have something to do with Mr Manning’s disappearance, and report back to us.”

    “Alright, but won’t it be suspicious if I keep visiting your or Samson’s office?”

    “Accounted for. You will report to the librarian, who will relay your messages to us, and ours to you. You seem like a bookish young man, so it would only be natural for you to be seen at the library, correct?”

    Did Mr Ronove actually know that, or had he just assumed that because Andre had glasses? “Alright.” After a pause, he turned to Samson. “Not to sound greedy, but will this reflect positively on my grade?”

    “Well…” Samson glanced elsewhere. “It will, but that doesn’t necessarily mean protection from consequences were you to commit an infraction of some kind. That just wouldn’t be fair to the other kids, you know?”

    It was like that, then, huh. “I see.”

    Samson nodded, still smiling.

    “I do want to express one thing,” Andre began.

    “Go on,” Mr Ronove said.

    “I would like to be kept up to date about the investigation,” Andre said. “You probably agree that I’ll be of more use if I know better what information might be relevant.”

    “Hmm.” Mr Ronove blinked. “That is true, but it is also true that divulging sensitive information to more parties than necessary is foolish. We will let you know what we need, but no more.”

    Andre sighed silently. Yeah, that figured.

    “One detail that we can tell you,” Mr Ronove started, “is the fact that all security cameras went static for roughly fifteen minutes at around 2 AM last night. This could very well merely be ordinary technical difficulties, but it’s something to keep in mind. Let us know if you find out about any inmate who would have sufficient knowledge of electronics to pull something like this off.”

    Dead security cameras… Andre wished he knew much technological knowhow orchestrating that would require. At least he knew Eric was off the hook, and so was he. No one who’d just arrived from Heaven could know that much about Hell tech.

    “I haven’t heard of anyone like that yet,” Andre said, “but I’ll keep that in mind.”

    Mr Ronove nodded. “And have you heard anything else so far that might be of interest in the Manning case?”

    Andre’s thoughts drifted to Red. He decided to explain what he’d explained to Samson the previous day.

    “I see,” Mr Ronove said, stroking his chin again. “Thank you for this information.”

    “And Red won’t be finding out about this, right?” Better make sure.

    Mr Ronove shook his head. “He will not hear of this.”

    Good.

    “Anything else?” the demon asked.

    Andre thought of all the conversations he could remember at the moment. “Nothing comes to mind.”

    “Very well, then,” Mr Ronove said. “You are dismissed. I apologize for taking time away from your class, but I have faith that you’ll be able to catch up.”

    Andre nodded and got up. “Thank you. I’ll be in touch.”

    He walked out as Samson gave a pleasant little wave for goodbye.

    ---​

    Andre didn’t have trouble catching up. In fact, the rest of the day went by without greater difficulties in general. He did have to lie about the reason he was called to Mr Ronove’s office to Alice and Camila at dinner - ‘just clearing up some records’, he’d said. Camila had dared to take the opportunity to ask what exactly Andre had done to get sentenced to prison in Hell in the first place, but Andre had deflected the question by saying that it was a sore subject for him and that he didn’t want to talk about it. Camila had, luckily, respected that.

    Later in the day, Andre withdrew to his room in order to continue writing to Ellie. He realized, however, that he couldn’t write certain events down when he shared a room with someone that could read them while he was gone and find out things that needed to be kept secret. After a bit of thinking, Andre determined that the solution to the problem was to write in Cherubian script. Every angel was taught that holy script in school, but demons surely had no reason to learn it. It took a bit for Andre to recall all of the characters, but he was fairly certain that he’d got them right. Heaven had the technology to help someone quickly figure out what the text must have been trying to say, anyway.

    After finishing and triple-checking his first letter, he dropped it off in the mailbox he’d been told about by the librarian and returned to his room. By this time, Red had returned. He was lying on his bed, reading a book on hellwolves, which Andre supposed were what hellhounds had been domesticated from. Andre found this odd for a moment - Red didn’t seem like the reading type - until he remembered that Red was a university student and specifically in biology.

    Andre still didn’t want to talk to Red, but after his talk with Mr Ronove, he practically had to.

    “You know,” he started, “you’re very lucky that Jake happened to disappear. This way, you didn’t have to fight him.”

    Suspiciously lucky, even. Andre didn’t really believe that Red had something to do with Jake’s disappearance, but that coincidence was certainly something.

    “Tch,” Red responded, not looking away from his book. “You think I wouldn’t have been able to take him?”

    “I don’t really know how demons work,” Andre said, sitting on his bed. “Maybe the guy half the size of the other guy has a fighting chance here.”

    “Hm.” Red turned a page. “I’m quite certain I’m a better fighter. I have… my reasons to believe so.”

    The words Red had said wouldn’t have been strange, but the way he said them… Andre’s halo began spinning a bit faster. “Oh yeah?” he asked.

    “Yeah. I just think he’s the type to be oblivious to what’s behind him, the type to react slowly, the type to squeal when shit actually gets serious. Unless he’s kept silent, of course.”

    A smile had crept up on Red’s lips as he spoke. The hair stood up on the back of Andre’s neck.

    No, he was full of shit, right? He’d just seen the opportunity to make himself sound hardcore and was taking it, right? Or maybe this was a demon’s idea of a joke?

    “Are you suggesting something?” Andre asked, blood rushing in his ears. No, he shouldn’t be prodding. Red was still highly capable of killing him, possibly even more so if what he was saying was true.

    “Hm?” Red locked eyes with Andre, and the angel froze. “Nothing at all,” the demon said with that eerie smile still on his face.

    Okay. Okay. This was… this was a joke. No one who’d actually committed a murder would be so nonchalant about it.

    Still… it wouldn’t hurt to pay the librarian a visit tomorrow. This was something suspicious enough to warrant sending a message to Mr Ronove.

    “Right,” Andre said. “Well, I’m turning in for the night.”

    “Suit yourself,” Red said, returning to his book.

    Andre picked up his toiletries and pajamas and headed for the bathroom. The more he told himself that Red had been kidding, the more he believed it, until he returned to his room and went to bed with little enough fear in him to be able to fall asleep.

    ---​
     
    Last edited:
    Chapter Three - Take a Hike, Part One
  • canisaries

    you should've known the price of evil
    Premium
    Location
    Stovokor
    Pronouns
    she/her
    Partners
    1. inkay-shirlee
    2. houndoom-elliot
    3. yamask-joanna
    4. shuppet
    5. deerling-andre
    6. omanyte
    7. hizzap
    Hey all! Now that the Blitz is over, I'd like to thank everyone who gave this story a chance. I hope the story will continue to entertain!

    This chapter is a two-parter with Chapter 4. Big thanks to @NebulaDreams for betareading.

    Rating is mature for sexual themes, violence (plus mention of gendered violence), speculation of stalking, discussion of drug addiction, mention of sexual assault, mentions of suicide, misogyny and homophobia, including a homophobic slur. Wow, that's a lot! I hope it's not too bad, though.

    Enjoy!

    ---

    CHAPTER THREE
    Take a Hike, Part One


    ---
    March 26th, 2025:
    - Added mention of Andre trying to more actively investigate Jake's disappearance by asking around.

    ---​

    God. Andre was tired.

    He’d woken up in the middle of the night in cold sweat from a dream he couldn’t remember. Probably a nightmare about his whole snitching thing coming to light.

    Should he really have become an informant? He’d said yes because he’d been worried about the consequences of saying no, but… would there really have been consequences? Would Samson have allowed that? He surely would have protested it, but would it have done anything? He was still under Mr Ronove…

    Andre placed the clothes he’d just taken off into the locker. He’d decided to take a quick shower to wash himself off. He entered the showers, footsteps smacking against the tiled floor. He chose a showerhead and turned on the water. Warm. Quite nice, really. Calming. That’s what he needed right now. He stepped into the water, letting it run down his head and body, and realized only moments after that he’d forgotten his shower cap. Damn. Well, whatever. He’d just sleep with a towel on his head. Couldn’t be that bad.

    He washed himself with the soap provided and soon finished up, but didn’t yet feel like leaving. The water was so nice. So nice…

    The door to the showers was shut.

    Andre flinched. He couldn’t see who was there due to the partition next to the door blocking his sight, but he heard the clacking of claws against the floor tiles… just like Red’s.

    Andre’s heart beat faster. Why was Red here? Had he followed him? Had he found out about Andre’s snitching? Was it just someone else and he was just being paranoid?

    The footsteps rounded the partition and the demon Andre had first expected emerged.

    Nude.

    Andre saw for the first time where the fur of Red’s legs stopped. Very close to this crotch, apparently. They were almost like stockings, if stockings ended in digitigrade paws.

    Of course, Andre saw other things in that area as well. He looked away quickly to avoid his own thoughts as well as Red’s anger. The demon couldn’t be happy about Andre’s eyes wandering given the things he’d said before.

    “Andre,” Red said. Andre glanced at the demon’s face. There was something unnerving about his stare, about the little smile on his lips. Andre shut the water off.

    “I just finished,” Andre said, a little waver in his voice. “Shower’s all yours.”

    “I’m not here for that,” Red said, his voice staying level. He’d only ever spoken like this when joking about Jake’s disappearance.

    He’d been joking, right?

    “What are you… here for, then?” Andre asked. He wanted to make his way past Red, get to the lockers and get dressed, become less vulnerable, but the demon’s stare was paralyzing.

    Red approached Andre. The angel’s pulse skyrocketed. Red didn’t stop until he was right next to Andre, forcing the angel to look slightly upwards to compensate for the difference in their heights.

    Terror found a companion. Arousal.

    Frustrating as it was, there was really no way Andre could be so close to an undressed man with a well-trained body without getting turned on. Even if that man was a demon. Which was really bad. He shouldn’t have been attracted to a demon in the first place, let alone one with ambiguously ill intent.

    Yet that somehow made it --

    Don’t finish that thought.

    “I’m here,” Red began, breaking Andre out of his contemplation, “for you.”

    He backed Andre against the wall. The demon planted one hand, then another, and Andre was frozen, unable to do anything but feel Red’s breath against his face.

    It made sense now. The posturing. The temper. Red had been attracted to him all along. He’d only been hiding it because Hell was Hell and being openly gay made you a target. He’d been trying to cover it up. Get people off his tracks. Keep Andre far away so he wouldn’t stumble and reveal his real self.

    But now, in the dead of night, with no one around…

    “You’re a very pretty boy, Andre,” Red breathed.

    A flood of emotions came, mostly amorous. But it was wrong. It was dangerous. This couldn’t work. An angel and a demon simply weren’t on the same playing field. There was no way to have safe sexual relations with someone who was --

    “It’s a shame to have to kill you.”

    Huh?

    Wait, fuck, what?

    Furred hands shoved themselves onto Andre’s throat, squeezing, crushing --

    Andre gasped.

    The hands were gone. Red was gone. The shower was gone. He was in the dorm room. Things felt… real, now. Properly real.

    A dream.

    Andre allowed his breathing to gradually calm down. His heartbeat would take some time to follow.

    Stupid fucking dream. God. As if he didn’t have enough to ruminate on.

    Couldn’t even be a regular nightmare. Had to be one of those dreams. Dreams where his lust led him instead of simply following. Dreams of danger, of courting injury and trauma. Why couldn’t he dream about the safe, properly consensual, wholesome sex he’d had countless times?

    It had to be some deep underlying self-destructiveness. Something made him want to get hurt. Why? What could have made him this way? Something in his childhood he’d repressed? A deep sense of shame that made him want to punish himself? He didn’t have --

    Well, he had shame, but it was about this whole thing itself, so it couldn’t have been its origin. And he should be ashamed. Not about the part about wanting to be hurt - that clearly showed he was a victim of some kind - but the part that sometimes made him wish to hurt others. He was like the people those books at the library catered to. Dark and twisted. He had to repress it. He couldn’t let that side take over. He couldn’t give in to evil.

    Andre took a deep breath. Maybe he’d forget this before the morning came. He certainly hoped so.

    He rolled over in his bed, away from the demon on the other side of the room, and waited impatiently for slumber to return.

    ---​

    Andre visited the librarian the next morning right away. He let her know about Red’s odd ‘joke’, and she wrote it down on her computer, presumably somewhere secure. Andre asked if there were any messages for him, but the librarian had nothing to relay. Andre nodded and left for breakfast.

    At chow hall, Andre had barely sat down before Alice asked him something.

    “So, Andre, has Red told you anything about what he’s in for?”

    “Hm?” Andre tilted his head. “No, he hasn’t. We still haven’t talked much.” He was very curious now, though…

    “Well, I heard a rumor…”

    A rumor? Andre was all ears.

    “They say that he killed someone. At the university.”

    Killed someone.

    Oh, fuck. Red actually had it in him to kill. That joke was seeming a lot less like a joke now…

    “What else?” Andre asked. Maybe Red had had a good reason to do what he’d done.

    “Uh…” Alice paused. “That’s the extent of what my source knows. Sorry.”

    “Who’s your source?”

    “Why do you wanna know?” Camila asked, leaning in. “Are you a snitch?”

    Andre blanched.

    Camila laughed. “Relax! I was just kidding. You don’t have to be so scared of me all the time.”

    Andre forced a chuckle. “Alright…”

    “Anyway,” Alice said, “my source prefers to remain anonymous. For now, anyway. I’ll let you know if they change their mind.”

    “Mm.” Andre nodded. “Thanks.”

    “I gotta wonder who Red killed, though,” Alice said. “A fellow student? A professor? Someone else? I’m assuming this happened after Mila and I got detained, so we didn’t hear about it. Unless they covered it up really well. Can’t imagine the university wanting to be honest about a murder happening on their premises.”

    “I could see that.” Even in Heaven, it’d likely play out that way…

    The conversation came to a lull until Camila spoke up. “I wonder what Eric’s in for.”

    “You haven’t found out?” Andre asked. He looked around the chow hall and spotted the angel at another table, still eating alone.

    Camila shook her head. “Don’t talk to that jackass much. And that’s as much because of me as it is because of him.”

    “Well, that’s better than him yelling slurs at you,” Andre said.

    “Psh. Sticks and stones.”

    Words can actually be very hurtful, Andre thought, but left it unsaid. “Well, in any case,” he started, “I do find it surprising that someone like him got thrown out of Heaven. He’s very… abrasive, but he doesn’t seem violent.”

    Camila looked at Eric. “With that physique, it’d be suicidal,” she remarked. “Especially here.”

    Andre nodded. He’d experienced the strength of demons relative to angels himself - Camila had insisted on him and Alice arm wrestling at one point, and he’d been utterly humiliated. At least Alice had been happy.

    “Maybe he was a stalker,” the bat-demoness in question suggested. “He kinda has that… creep energy.”

    “Maybe,” Andre said. He could see it. Getting a crush on some girl, feeling like it was your right to follow her and give her unwanted attention because your stupid fake scrolls said women were too stupid to know themselves who was right for them…

    They finished their breakfast and moved on to their next classes, which passed without surprises for Andre. As he was leaving for lunch, though, Suki called his name.

    “Hey,” Andre said, somewhat surprised. “What’s up?”

    “Well,” Suki said, hands clasped, “I wanted to apologize for how I acted the first time we met. I shouldn’t have run out on you like that.”

    Andre found her demeanor strange for a moment before he realized that this was probably how Suki actually was. She wasn’t actually the stuttering, shivering nervous wreck she’d been before when she’d been new to what was essentially prison, not to mention in severe withdrawal. She was even holding eye contact now, showing no signs of discomfort.

    “It’s fine,” Andre said, smiling warmly. “I haven’t had withdrawal before, but I’ve heard that it can be pretty intense.”

    “Oh, it is,” Suki said, chuckling.

    “I’m glad you seem to be doing better now,” Andre said. Was she taking medication? Andre knew not to pry, instead changing the subject. “So, how’s your -- oh, right. You were Jake’s pair, but he’s gone since.” He tried not to imply it wasn’t of Jake’s own volition.

    “Yeah,” Suki said, crossing her arms. “It’s weird. He was there when I went to sleep, and then he wasn’t there when I woke up. I just thought he was out doing something already. I didn’t hear about him escaping until later in the day when my supervisor asked me where he was.” She scratched her cheek, though not with her claw extended, thank goodness. “Some pair I am, huh?”

    “Hey, don’t worry about it,” Andre said. “I know my pair and I don’t look after each other much, and I just finished hearing someone else describe their pair the same way at breakfast.”

    “Mm.” Suki nodded. “They haven’t assigned me another pair yet. I think I’m gonna have to be a third for some existing pair since there’s an odd amount of us now. I hope I don’t have to share a room with them… it’s nice and quiet in mine now.”

    Andre nodded. “I can imagine.”

    Suki smiled. It was nice to see her smile. Not just because that meant she was happy, but also because she did look very cute that way. Her big cat ears looked very soft, but Andre knew much better than to ask to touch them. Still, she reminded Andre of the catgirls popular in Zipan of Earth. Maybe he could draw -- no, that was weird.

    “So…” Suki began. “Would you like to have lunch together?”

    Huh. That was more forward than Andre had expected of her. “Sure thing!” he said, though. He was always excited to make new friends.

    They made their way to chow hall, got their meals and settled on a table. Andre could spot Alice and Camila at another one - the girls stared at Andre for a moment, but then Alice smiled and Camila gave a thumbs-up with a smirk.

    Hey, it’s not like that! Andre thought, but then wasn’t so sure. Suki could very well have had a crush on him. But he didn’t feel that way about Suki. He hadn’t really felt that way about anyone - his sexual relations had really all been either with strangers or friends with benefits.

    “So, Andre,” Suki began, snatching back Andre’s attention. “What was your life like before you ended up here?”

    “Oh, in Heaven? Well, I hope you don’t get offended when I say that I think that it was a much nicer place than --”

    “No, like, what did you do?” Suki interrupted. “Were you in college or something?”

    Huh. Andre supposed not necessarily everyone wanted him to blab about the wonders of Heaven. “Well, I went to a university,” Andre answered. “In monitoring. That’s, uh, the field in which the angels who monitor the humans on Earth go.”

    “Oh, interesting. Why’d you choose that field?”

    Andre chuckled awkwardly. “Well, I didn’t really choose it, per se. It’s sort of what’s expected in my family.”

    “Aw. Did you not want to do it?”

    “No, it’s not… quite that. I definitely wanted to do it when I was a kid. I wanted to be the one who helped judge humans, make sure good guys get to Heaven and bad guys go to Hell. But…” He sighed.

    “But what?” Suki asked.

    Andre thought back to what he’d seen on those monitors in his tutorship program. The men of that village, shot. The women, violated. The children, forever scarred. All for money and power.

    He wasn’t supposed to see it. They’d told him not to mess with the coordinates. He was supposed to just stick to the Usonian suburbs. The happy families there. Not the massacre he stumbled upon. The massacre that Heaven could have prevented, just like all the countless atrocities before it.

    “Arukei says that people need to be tested in order to see who they really are,” Andre began. “It sounds sensible until you actually see how bad that testing gets. And not just that. Different parts of the world, different people in them… how much each gets tested is just left up to chance. Some people suffer more in a year than others do in a lifetime.”

    “Earth’s just as bad as Hell in that regard, huh?”

    “I don’t know if it’s as bad… but maybe. In any case, I started seriously considering changing fields despite my parents’ demands. Then…”

    Andre quieted. Should he really talk about this?

    “Then what?” Suki asked. “Did something change?”

    …No. He shouldn’t talk about it. “Sorry. I actually don’t think I’m comfortable sharing it after all.”

    “Oh.” Suki glanced elsewhere. “Well, that’s okay. Do you mind if I talk about how I got here, then?”

    “By all means.”

    She smiled. “Okay! So, I was in pre-med before I ended up here. I wanted to go into forensics.” Her smile wilts. “Guess that’s not happening anymore.”

    Andre frowned. “Sorry to hear.”

    “But!” she said, her smile returning. “I still have my writing. I think I might have a shot at making it work as a profession.”

    “Oh, what kind of stuff do you write?”

    Suki’s eyes lit up. It reminded Andre of Katie. God, Katie. Does she still hate me?

    Suki went on to explain her very, very complicated fantasy story and all the bizarre creatures she’d made up for it. Her persistent excitement only served to twist the dagger in Andre’s heart further. Katie could go on about her stories for hours just like this.

    Fifteen minutes later, Andre glanced at the clock and figured that he was allowed to enforce boundaries. “That’s great,” he said, meaning it, “but I think you were going to tell me about how you ended up here?”

    Suki gasped. “Damn. I’m sorry. I just get really excited about my stuff…”

    “No harm done. So, please, tell me what got you into this joint.”

    “Right.” She cleared her throat. “So, I already told you about my withdrawal, so I don’t think it’s any surprise that I’m an addict. Or was. I don’t want to be one anymore.” She scratched her cheek. “How I ended up becoming one, though, was because of my anxiety. I think it came from school when I started lagging behind. Or, well, I mean lagging behind by my standards. A’s turning into B’s and such.”

    “I know the feeling. I was an overachiever myself. Raised that way.”

    Suki nodded. ”Yeah. So, as you can guess, I didn’t take it well. I thought it meant I was just lazy, that I was a bad person. Anyway… the anxiety got bad, really bad. So I finally got help for it. They gave me Paxezepam, that’s a nervous depressant. It worked. It made the anxiety go away, and I could actually relax for the first time in forever. But… I kept using it, and it started losing its edge. I… unwisely started taking more than I was prescribed. And then I became an addict.”

    “So how’d you end up here? Did you buy some illegally?”

    Suki huffed, amused. “I wish. I got my dad’s gun and tried to rob a drug store. Tried. They disarmed me because I was a weak little girl they knew couldn’t pull the trigger. And then I got arrested, and then, eventually, I ended up here.”

    “Sorry to hear,” Andre said. “But, well, it is lucky that you ended up here rather than someplace worse, right?”

    Suki smiled and nodded. “Definitely. I’m honestly really grateful.”

    Andre didn’t think she needed to be grateful when this was the bare minimum she deserved, but he didn’t want to argue.

    Suki sighed. “Well, we better eat. Though the food’s probably cold now. Sorry about that.”

    “It’s alright,” Andre said. “Bon appétit.”

    “What?”

    “It means ‘have a good meal’, essentially. It’s Rancian. Earth language.”

    “Oh, I see. You have a good meal, too.”

    Andre nodded and dug in. The meal was, indeed, cold now, but that didn’t matter. The company made up for the food.

    ---​

    Time passed. Andre’s studies progressed well even if he needed to ask a clarifying question every now and then to receive context the demons already had. This was very good, as the purpose of the education in the program was to provide inmates with a certificate that they could mention on their résumés and hopefully improve their chances of getting employed, and Andre needed all the help he could get in that regard. His education in Heaven, while surely of higher quality than whatever they had in Hell, likely didn’t help his chances with Infernal employers when they’d have to use snail mail to verify it instead of simply making a call or exchanging email. That’s what Alice had said, anyway.

    His free time Andre spent either alone, reading or sketching or writing to Ellie, or with Alice and Camila - or with Suki. They’d started to talk more between classes, getting to know each other better. For instance, Andre had mentioned his art, which Suki had been excited to hear about. She’d made Andre promise to show her later, which he eventually had done. Andre hadn’t thought his sketches were very good, but Suki had been seriously impressed. It made him feel nice.

    As for Andre’s informant business, there hadn’t been anything new to report. He’d tried poking around a bit to ask about Jake, but almost everyone he met either didn't know anything or just didn't want to talk to him - the latter communicated to Andre with little subtlety. Andre didn’t know it was because of who he was personally or because he was an angel or because the inmates just weren’t the chatty sort. Someone that had been open to discussing Jake was Suki, but she didn’t seem to know much given how she’d been purposefully avoiding him from the moment she’d found out about his rotten character - which had been their introduction.

    As for Red, though, Andre hadn’t spoken to him outside the tiniest of mundane requests and acknowledgements - roommate stuff. At first, their interactions were tense for Andre, but with time, the angel realized that if Red hadn’t done anything to him by then, he probably wouldn’t do it later, either. Also with time, though, the certainty of Jake’s disappearance having been involuntary grew as the pig stayed missing instead of him coming crawling back for his life-saving medication. Meaning the chances of there being a murderer between these walls had also gone up, meaning the chance that it was Red had gone up. Troubling.

    Eventually, Monday came, and with it, another morning assembly. Andre couldn’t hazard a guess as to what kind of announcements they would have, so he was prepared to be surprised. He was right.

    “Over the course of this week and the next,” Mr Ronove said from the stage, “you will be getting some fresh air. Your supervisor will take you on a two-day hike through the Plains of Despair in groups of four.”

    The crowd of inmates collectively groaned.

    “It sounds tough, I’m aware, but your supervisor will make sure you advance at a reasonable pace,” Mr Ronove continued. “He will also make sure that you are properly fed, hydrated and safe from wildlife.” He narrowed his eyes. “He will also make sure that you will not escape. He and the ankle monitors you will be provided with. And don’t think about cutting those. If their loop is broken, they will alert us at once, and you will be caught. And then you already know what’ll happen.”

    12-hour workdays in real prison, Andre filled in.

    Mr Ronove adjusted his tie. “I do apologize for springing this on you on such short notice, but this was always something that was going to be decided by the weather. Since there’s a cooler period now, we have to seize it. Unless you’d like to march in 100-degree weather.”

    A hundred degrees? It gets that hot? Andre thought, panicked, until he remembered Hell used different units. The road signs on the way to the center had, after all, expressed distances in miles instead of kilometers.

    “That would be all that I have to say for now,” Mr Ronove concluded. “Your supervisors will shortly brief you on when your hike is scheduled. Thank you.”

    With that, he stepped down from the stage and the supervisors gathered their group members. Samson divided their group of eight in two, and Andre sighed heavily when he heard that he shared a group with Red. It made sense, of course, as they were pairs, and the other two in their group also seemed to be pairs - Yardley Tucker and Jenny Hale. Yardley was a black cyclops while Jenny was a white blonde with a crown of horns. It was too early to get any impressions from either of them as they both stayed silent with just some annoyance on their faces.

    Andre’s group, as it turned out, was first. Samson led Andre and the three others to a room where a demoness was waiting - a demoness that seemed to be made of wood and other plant matter, her hair being crimson vines with blooming flowers. Andre wondered if he was ever going to stop being surprised by the diversity of demons.

    The demoness introduced herself as Mrs Akerele and explained that she would be the one to teach them the important things to know to stay healthy and safe on this hike. They were mostly things that applied to regular hiking on Earth, like wearing hats to prevent sunstroke, rationing your food and water and first aid, but there were also some things that would only apply in Hell. They were warned about ghouls in particular and introduced three objects that helped in dealing with them: the maloscope, the hallowed beacon and the hallowed dagger.

    The maloscope looked like a black compass with a red needle, but instead of pointing to the magnetic north - which Andre actually knew by now that Hell had, being a planet with a molten metallic core - it pointed towards ‘unholy energy’, which creatures like ghouls possessed. Apparently, there was also a massive reserve of unholy energy underneath the planet’s surface, which is why the maloscope would always point down in an otherwise neutral space were you to tilt it. Andre was skeptical and asked if that was simply because of gravity, but Mrs Akerele showed him the compass up close and Andre understood. The needle was larger on the side that pointed upwards, and would not flip over despite jostling. That shut him up.

    The hallowed beacon looked like a featureless cylinder attached to a tripod. Apparently this thing repelled creatures that possessed unholy energy, though it required electricity. It was solar-powered, however, so it could be charged during the day and used during the night. The hallowed dagger, in turn, was for the cases when the beacon was off or broken. Turned off, it was simply its handle, but turned on, it was a sight to behold. The blade was formed of golden light with periodic waves of rainbow streaks traveling from its base to its tip.

    “Is that… holy energy?” Andre asked. It really looked like some new form of it. But holy energy couldn’t exist in Hell, right?

    Mrs Akerele shook her head. “Just an imitation,” she said, “but still the next best thing. It will slice through a ghoul’s flesh and bone like hot butter.”

    Jenny, then, spoke up, pointing at Andre. “Hey, if your wings and halo are made of holy energy, does that mean you got natural weapons against ghouls on you?”

    “Oh. Uh, probably not,” Andre said. “They’re not holy energy. They’re just magic. Different thing.”

    “They’re like demon parts, then?”

    “Maybe?” Andre looked at Samson.

    “Well,” Samson began, “demon parts are magic, but a bit different from angel parts. Both are created by magic and can be removed by magic, and both angels and demons know how to do that on instinct, but demon parts are tangible while angel parts are intangible. I believe Arukei made it that way so that demons can use their parts to roughhouse sinners while angels’ parts are purely aesthetic.”

    Andre rolled his eyes stealthily. Of course he had to work in Arukei somehow, he thought.

    There was little material left to go through after that. The most notable part was that Samson explained that he’d be wearing armor throughout the hike in order to make sure no one could do anything to him and that he would have the strength to keep the peace if necessary. Andre’s first thought was a full suit of medieval armor, but he knew it couldn’t be that with how silly it sounded.

    His judgment was validated when Samson looped some kind of amulet around his neck, one made of silvery metal with a red gem in the middle that glowed when it activated. A faint red light of the same hue coated Samson’s skin and clothes, then disappeared, but Samson demonstrated it was still active by trying to stab his palm with a letter opener only for the blade to clink against his skin with a ripple of the aforementioned red light. I’m glad he’ll be safe, at least, Andre thought.

    The briefing wrapped up, and they were given thirty minutes to get ready - hit the bathroom, fetch important medicine, so on. After that, they were fitted their ankle monitors, escorted out of the building and placed into two cars: Samson’s and some other guard’s. Andre chose Samson’s and luckily didn’t have to share a car with Red, but Jenny and another guard.

    As they exited the gates of the center - after another identification, of course - Andre decided it would be a good moment to try and get to know Jenny as a person. He turned to the demoness, who already seemed bored as she looked out the window.

    “Hey,” Andre began, smiling. “Your name was Jenny, right? I’m Andre.”

    “Okay,” Jenny said, warily eyeing him up.

    Not the warmest reception, thought Andre. “How’s the program been treating you so far?”

    Jenny frowned. “Are you some kinda snitch?”

    Andre froze. Is it that obvious? he thought. I wasn’t even asking for snitching purposes…

    “I think he just wants to get to know you,” said Samson from the driver’s seat.

    Great, now Samson was acting like his dad. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Andre said to the demoness.

    “Then I won’t,” she replied.

    “That’s… alright,” Andre said. “I’ll just… be quiet now.”

    Jenny turned back to her window. Andre turned to his, sighing quietly.

    They drove on a highway splitting the plains, not much to look at outside but crimson soil, maroon bushes and the occasional creek of yellow water or cluster of gangly, red-leaved trees. The other car followed close behind. At some point, Samson turned on the radio, which played some music reminiscent of Earth music from forty years ago. It was a bit manufactured to Andre’s ears, but listenable enough.

    Eventually, they drove off road and didn’t stop until the highway was well out of sight. They parked, unboarded and got out their backpacks, packed beforehand. Samson gave Andre a noticeably smaller backpack compared to the others, and while Andre knew why that was, it seemed that the demons didn’t and gave them some nasty looks for it. Great.

    The guard in Samson’s car moved to the driver’s seat and drove off alongside the other car, leaving the two angels and three demons alone. After a few seconds, Samson gasped.

    “Almost forgot!” he said, then lowered his backpack and began digging. He produced a stack of red caps with some logo on them Andre couldn’t recognize. “Gotta wear hats. Don’t want anyone to get sunstroke!”

    With sighs, the group collected one cap each and put them on. Andre saw the demons withdraw their horns in order to get the hats to fit. He simply placed his own on, knowing it must have phased through his halo.

    Everyone sufficiently hatted, Samson clapped his hands together.

    “Alright!” he said. “Nothing else to do than get a move on. Let’s go!”

    He marched past his group, full of energy, and the group begrudgingly followed.

    It was a cooler day than the one Andre had arrived in Hell on, about 20 degrees. The sky was more clouded this time, too. Andre had seen clouds in Hell before when he’d gone in the center’s yard for some fresh air, but he still thought it funny how their regular white color had been strange to him. He’d become so used to nature being in strange colors that something being the same as in Heaven was a surprise.

    “It’s a fine day for hiking,” Samson remarked, looking back at the group. “Any of you gone hiking before?”

    Andre didn’t want to be the first to answer since he already seemed like the teacher’s pet, but when no one else piped up, it fell on him to give a reply. “A few times,” Andre said. “When I was a kid, my parents were worried about how little I was exercising, so they got me into a hiking group.”

    “Oh, where was that? Any place I’d know?”

    “Verdancy,” Andre replied.

    “Oh! I’ve been there once. Beautiful place. But I suppose that’s what Arukei had in mind, right?”

    “Right,” Andre said. Again with Arukei…

    “I was there with my family. Would have been over six years ago, since my daughter hadn’t been born yet. My son must have been… somewhere around eight. Anyway, a friend of my wife’s had been there and recommended it to her…”

    Samson recounted everything he remembered of his trip to Verdancy before moving on to talking about other places in Heaven he’d visited. Every once in a while, he asked Andre a question, and Andre gave a short answer before letting Samson continue. Periodically, the younger angel would glance at the demons of the group and see how bored they seemed. Samson seemed to be having a good time finally getting to talk to another angel, though, and Andre didn’t want to burst his bubble.

    Samson especially liked talking about his family. It made Andre reflect on his own. How soon would it be until his letter reached Ellie? It would reach her, right? Andre didn’t know how trustworthy Hell’s postal system was. Well, he supposed he’d find out through whether or not he got a letter back. He hoped it would be soon.

    Then there was the rest of his family. Oh boy. The last time he’d spoken to them was the call he’d gotten in police custody. He’d been informed that there was one waiting for him, then he’d been brought to the phone room, then he’d taken the phone given to him and brought it to his ear…

    ”Andre speaking.”

    His mother’s voice responded. ”Oh, thank Arukei. Andre, what’s going on? Ellie told us you’d been arrested. That you were one of those ‘Blackwings’. That’s not true, is it? This is just a misunderstanding, right? It is, obviously. Well, don’t you worry about it. Your father will clear everything up. With the amount of influence he has, you’ll be out of there in no --”

    “Mom.”

    A pause. “What is it?”

    “It’s true. I’m a Blackwing.”

    Another pause. “No, that’s not right. You can’t be a Blackwing. You aren’t that kind of person. My son isn’t that kind of person.”

    “Mom.”

    “Did they trick you into it? Did you not know who they were?”

    “Mom…”

    “Do you know who they are now?”

    “I know.”

    No response.

    “I know all about them,” Andre continued. “I’d wager I know more than you, even.”

    “...Why? Sweetie, why? Why would you work with such horrible people?”

    “They’re not horrible. You’re thinking of those dirty ones, the ones that assassinate humans for money. The ones I worked for --”

    “You can’t be serious.”

    “Let me finish. The ones I worked for
    saved people, Mom. Prevented rapes and murders.”

    “Is that what they told you?”

    “I
    saw it. I watched them do it.”

    “What… what did they do? What did you see?”

    Andre swallowed. This was the hardest part.

    “They --”


    “Andre?”

    Samson’s voice yanked Andre out of his thoughts.

    “Sorry, what?” Andre asked. “I got… distracted.”

    Samson looked back with a smile. “Oh, that’s alright. I was just asking about your family - if you had any nice memories with them to share.”

    Andre took a deep breath - not easy when walking with a full backpack - and let it out. “Sorry. That’s kind of a touchy subject for me.”

    “Oh.” Samson’s smile wilted. “Well, that’s alright. I won’t press you on it.”

    “Thanks.”

    Samson didn’t say anything after that, and Andre sighed. He glanced at the other demons, and right after he did, Red directed his gaze elsewhere. He’d been staring at Andre, though. Andre was sure of it.

    Well, it was probably nothing. Andre hoped it was nothing, at least.

    Jenny abruptly sighed. “I have no family.”

    Andre looked over. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

    “I don’t need your pity,” she spat.

    Andre paused. He didn’t really know how to talk to her, but she wanted to keep trying. “What happened to them?”

    “Mom died of cancer, Dad got shot. Brother killed himself.” She sighed again. “Ran out of money. Landlord drove me out on the street. Had to start mugging people. That’s how I ended up here.”

    That was… rough. Really rough.

    “Well, it’s better here than sleeping on a bench,” she said. “Got a roof over my head and food that won’t poison me. Get to shower, too.”

    Andre was silent for a moment. “What’s gonna happen once you’re out?”

    “Who fuckin’ knows,” she said.

    “Well,” Samson piped up, “once you clear the program, the hope is that you’ll be able to use the skills you’ve learned here in order to get a job. If you tell your employer to call me for a reference, I’ll be sure to make you sound like a good pick.”

    “Whatever,” the demoness muttered.

    Samson exchanged a look with Andre. Andre shrugged.

    “I’m just here because I kicked someone’s ass,” Yardley said. “He said he’d fucked my girl. Yeah, right. My girl isn’t like that. Had to teach him a lesson.”

    Samson hummed. “I can definitely understand feeling like you need to protect the honor of your partner,” he said. “Arukei knows that I’d be angry if someone insinuated something like that about my wife. But we’ve got to solve our problems with words instead of violence. Or, better yet, by not even giving those people the time of day.”

    “I can’t just let someone shittalk like that,” Yardley protested. “I’d look totally dickless!”

    “You want to look strong,” Samson said. “But isn’t it much stronger to be able to solve problems without even lifting a finger?”

    “Tch.” Yardley looked elsewhere. “Maybe for you angels, but this is Hell.”

    Samson didn’t respond. He probably didn’t want to overstay his welcome.

    After a pause, the cyclops then turned to Red. “What about you, leather jacket? What are you in for?”

    “Murder,” Red said, without missing a beat.

    Chills crept up Andre’s back. So it was true.

    “Oh, shit,” Yardley replied. “Who’d you kill?”

    “Some broad who didn’t know her place.”

    So that was misogyny added to homophobia. Bad enough misogyny to kill. Did Andre really have to be his pair?

    “Hold on,” Jenny said. “They said that they only let in people who committed their crimes for ‘understandable’ reasons. You couldn’t have killed just because she ‘didn’t know her place’.” She spat the last words with venom, which to Andre was entirely justified.

    ‘Understandable’. Had the woman tried to do something to Red first?

    “Got connections,” Red said. “Used them.”

    “Bullshit. You’re no elite. Look at yourself. You dress like some fag who thinks he’s hard.”

    Andre flinched a fraction of a second before the explosion came.

    “What’d you fucking say?” Red growled. He caught up to Jenny with a few angry steps, and the demoness backed away. Andre, Samson and Yardley stopped advancing.

    “God, thin-skinned much?” Jenny spat back. “If you can’t handle comments like those, wear something else.”

    “That’s fucking it,” Red hissed, throwing down his backpack. “I’ll shut you up myself.”

    “Hey, hey, hey,” Samson said, rare authority in his voice, and stepped towards the quarreling demons. ”No fighting.”

    “Fuck’s it to you?” Red snapped. “You think you can stop me, birdboy?”

    Andre winced. This was not good for their record.

    “When I’ve got this on, I certainly do,” Samson said, pointing to his amulet. “I’d tell you to try me, but for your own sake, I’d rather you didn’t.” He put his hands on his hips. “So, what’s it gonna be?”

    Red’s fists tightened. He glared at Samson. Every onlooker held their breath.

    Red sighed and relaxed. “Whatever,” he muttered and backed away to pick up his backpack again.

    Samson turned to Jenny. “You alright?”

    Jenny huffed. “Didn’t need you to rescue me.”

    “As long as you’re alright.” Samson resumed his position in front of the group and began moving again.

    Andre stared at Red. Red met his eyes with a mean look, and Andre looked away, his heart skipping a beat. Were they all going to be alright, sleeping in the same camp as Red tonight? Andre sighed through his nose and resumed walking. He just had to hope for the best.

    One long, tense and silent march later, Samson announced that it was time for lunch, and it certainly felt like it. The group took off their backpacks with sighs of relief and sat down on the dusty ground. They had ham and cheese sandwiches. Andre wasn’t sure if it was just his hunger, but they were very nice.

    “Tastes pretty good,” he decided to mention - compliments to the chef. “Far better than what chow hall serves.”

    Samson smiled. He already seemed to be over what had happened before, or he was at least very good at pretending. “That’s ‘cause they were made with love!”

    Jenny groaned. “Seriously? Are all you angels like this?”

    “Hey, I’m just kidding,” Samson said, raising his palms with a chuckle. “That’d be sappy even for me.”

    Once they finished their sandwiches, Samson got up and stretched and asked if any of them needed to ‘do their business’. No one seemed to have that need, but Samson did, so he excused himself and walked off towards a tree twenty-ish meters away. Once he was sufficiently far, Yardley spoke up.

    “So, uh, anyone wanna escape with me tonight?”

    “What?” Andre said.

    “You heard me,” the cyclops said, then pointed to his ankle monitor. “I’m cutting this shit off tonight and making a run for it, probably with some supplies with me. Anyone’s free to come along. Shit, I’d prefer company.”

    Jenny stared at Yardley. “Are you fucking stupid?”

    It was rude, but she had a point. “Yeah,” Andre said. “Didn’t you hear? The ankle monitor has a loop in it that --”

    “No,” Jenny said. “I mean that he must be fucking stupid to tell us about it with you listening. You’re obviously gonna tell the supervisor now.”

    “I am not,” Andre said, indignant - though he stopped to think about it. He did want to tell Samson… but he obviously wouldn’t be able to do that during this trip without the others seeing, and then no one would tell him anything anymore, ever. It was more sensible as an informant to stay silent about this. The escape attempt would fail in any case. Or… if Yardley made it to the highway, and someone picked him up, got him away fast enough…

    “See, he’s thinking about it,” Jenny said, pointing at Andre.

    Andre was about to protest again, but a new voice cut him off.

    “Go ahead.”

    Andre, Jenny and Yardley turned to Red with surprise.

    “Go ahead,” Red repeated. “If one-eye here is stupid enough to have that kind of plan, he deserves to get caught for it.”

    “Hey, fuck you, man,” Yardley snapped. “Least I’m tryin’ to think of something.”

    Andre held his breath - would Red get angry again?

    Fortunately, it didn’t look like it. “You really want to trade four months in the program for the rest of your life as a fugitive?”

    “It seems to be working out for that Jake kid!”

    “Jake, huh?” Red smirked. “You really think he escaped?”

    Andre glanced towards Samson, but the man was still behind the tree, facing away.

    “Fuck’s that supposed to mean?” Yardley asked.

    Red crossed his arms, the smirk still on his face. “I wonder.”

    “No, seriously, dude, what are you saying? Is there something I don’t know?” The cyclops glanced at Andre and seemed to notice his uncomfortable expression. “Something you know?”

    “I don’t know anything about this,” Andre said.

    “Bullshit,” Yardley said. “You got that look on your face. You know someth-”

    “Samson’s coming back,” Jenny said.

    They all quieted and looked towards Samson, who was indeed approaching them.

    Yardley pointed at Andre. “You’re not saying anything.”

    “I wasn’t going to,” Andre growled.

    “Everything alright over there?” Samson called out.

    Andre sighed. “We’re alright,” he called back. “Just chatting.”

    “As long as you’re alright,” Samson said, reaching the group soon after. He took some of the hand sanitizer whose bottle was still on the ground and applied it to his hands before packing the bottle away again. “So, you all rested up? Ready to keep moving?”

    The group exchanged tired glances. “Yeah, let’s go,” Andre said, faking a smile.

    “Righty-o!”

    Andre and the demons got up, picked up their backpacks and resumed walking. The angel kept his eye on Yardley, who wore a sour expression. Whether he’d try escaping that night or not, Andre didn’t know. He just hoped the demon wouldn’t succeed.

    Andre sighed. The long walk had become even longer.

    ---​
     
    Last edited:
    Chapter Four - Take a Hike, Part Two
  • canisaries

    you should've known the price of evil
    Premium
    Location
    Stovokor
    Pronouns
    she/her
    Partners
    1. inkay-shirlee
    2. houndoom-elliot
    3. yamask-joanna
    4. shuppet
    5. deerling-andre
    6. omanyte
    7. hizzap
    And we're back to conclude the two-parter! Big thanks again to @NebulaDreams for betareading.

    Rating is mature for violence and internalized homophobia.

    Enjoy!

    ---

    CHAPTER FOUR
    Take a Hike, Part Two


    ---
    March 26th, 2025:
    - Added mention of Andre investigating Jake more.
    - Mentioned Jake's cronies by name for the first time (Zeevo the fly-demon, Arby the locust-demon).

    April 20th, 2025:
    - Changed the day that Andre goes to see Red in the infirmary to a Sunday instead of a weekday, meaning there were no classes.

    ---

    Andre

    Samson was talking. Samson was still talking. It had been hours and he was still talking.

    He’d started innocently enough, breaking the tense silence by talking about his dog and asking if any of the group members had pets - they didn’t, or if they did, they didn’t admit to it - before talking about the different kinds of animals Heaven had that Hell didn’t. When he got to pterippi, he went on a tangent about how much his daughter loved them, what her favorite breeds were, how they had to try and tell her that she couldn’t have one because a pterippus was a lot of work to take care of… and Andre couldn’t remember where he’d gone after that. What was Samson talking about now? Something about the history of rock and roll on Earth?

    Oh, never mind. It was hard enough for Andre to stay on his feet and keep moving now that the hours and hours of walking with a moderately heavy backpack were catching up with him. He glanced up at the sky. The sun was still a ways away from the horizon. They’d stop with the sunset, right? Or at least when it got dark? Samson wouldn’t make them march in the dark, right? When did it get dark in this part of Hell? Andre wanted to ask, but he dreaded the answer. Maybe it was better not to know.

    And, hey, there was something to be thankful for. Red hadn’t been causing any problems since the break. Any time Andre looked over his shoulder, the leather-jacketed demon had at worst given him the stink eye. It never escalated, but Andre also didn’t want to push his luck. After another such look, stolen after probably fifteen minutes had passed since the previous one, Andre decided he might as well try to listen to Samson again while watching his own feet traipse forward.

    “... and while I think they did make some great hits, I don’t believe they were actually as influential as the history books --”

    Samson stopped. Andre raised his gaze to look at the angel. Samson stood still for a moment, squinting his eyes, before he raised a hand to signal the group members to stop - though they all already had, puzzled by their supervisor’s reaction.

    “What is it?” Andre asked.

    “I think I saw something move near those bushes,” Samson said, pointing to some dry-looking shrubs a few meters ahead. “Could be a ghoul.”

    Andre tensed up. A ghoul. He hadn’t been told in much detail what they were like before their departure - just that they were dangerous, unsightly beings that possessed unholy energy and attacked humanoids to try and siphon away their life force. But those shrubs were small. How dangerous could something that could hide behind them be?

    Samson took an object out of his pocket - right, the maloscope. Samson looked at it, wiggling it a bit, before looking back at the shrubs.

    “It’s a ghoul, alright,” Samson said. “Stay where you are. I’ll see if I can scare it off or slay it.”

    He pocketed the maloscope and drew out the hallowed dagger from the scabbard attached to his belt before turning it on. The blade of golden light formed in a flash. He approached the bushes - but as a black creature emerged, Samson stopped again.

    It moved like… a rabbit. It looked like a rabbit, one with black fur. Sure, it had some tiny horns protruding from its head and its eyes were red, but this was normal for animals in Hell.

    “Are you sure that’s a ghoul?” Andre called out. “Just looks like a rabbit to me.”

    Jenny scoffed. “Don’t you know anything?”

    Andre gave the demoness a glare. “No. I literally just got here a few days ago. From Heaven, where they don’t even let you talk about Hell. Excuse me for not knowing trivia about hell-bunnies.” Andre was too tired to be polite.

    Someone snorted - Red, surprisingly. Jenny, though scoffed again and rolled her eyes. Andre turned back to Samson. Whatever, he thought.

    The rabbit’s nose twitched before it took another hop forward. Samson responded with a sharp yell and a brandishing of his dagger. The rabbit didn’t seem to react. Andre didn’t know much about rabbits, even less about hell-rabbits, but it felt like a small herbivore like that should have at least flinched.

    The rabbit hopped closer again, and Samson stood where he was. The rabbit blinked…

    … and pounced in a heartbeat, latching onto Samson’s throat.

    Samson yelped, and Andre froze up - but the latter realized soon that the yelp was only one of surprise rather than pain. Samson’s neck glowed with a coating of red light as the rabbit kept gnawing on it without drawing blood. Right, he had magical armor.

    Samson gripped the ghoul’s scruff with his free hand and pulled it off with little effort, leaving it fiercely flailing in the air while it let out some squeals that were quite harsh on the ears. Andre saw that it had become something that looked much more like a ghoul - skin and bones with elongated limbs ending in sharp talons. And its teeth were like needles.

    The plunging of the hallowed dagger into the ghoul’s gut drew out one final screech before it dried up and eroded into black sand that poured down onto the ground and lay there in a pile, motionless.

    Samson sighed, relieved, and sheathed his dagger. “That takes care of that,” he said. “Unless…” He took out his maloscope and jiggled it a bit. “Yeah, no, looks like it was the only one. Everyone alright?”

    “‘Course we’re alright,” Jenny said. “It didn’t touch us.”

    “I know,” Samson said, smiling. “Just… mentally speaking. That could have been quite a scare!”

    The demons groaned. Andre sighed. “I’m fine,” the younger angel said.

    “Good to hear!”

    “Although…” Andre started. “I didn’t know ghouls could do that. Disguise themselves as animals.”

    Samson blinked, seeming surprised. “Oh, right,” he said. “The debriefing didn’t say that, did it? Ah.” He shook his head. “Of course. Will have to let the staff know. They must have forgotten that the existence and behavior of false-rabbits isn’t common knowledge for angels. Sorry about that. I hope I can get them to amend the material before the other angel has his trip!”

    Andre wouldn’t have really minded it if Eric got bitten in the neck by a ghoul.

    “Do you happen to know anything else about ghouls than the things taught to you at the debriefing?” Samson asked.

    “Well, nothing I didn’t just learn in the past five minutes,” Andre said.

    Samson smiled. “Well, that’s grand! I get to be the one to teach you, then.”

    Andre sighed. He’d have to listen to Samson talking for even longer.

    ---​

    Samson’s explanation of what ghouls were wasn’t that long in the end. They were constructs made of black magic that looked and acted somewhat like true lifeforms, but in actuality were more like the automata in Heaven - lifeless machines acting according to pre-written instructions, mimicking creatures with actual souls and the capacity to think and feel.

    What they did with their prey was to incapacitate them, usually through mauling, and then start to suck out their prey’s life force. They would not stop until their prey’s body was lifeless. Then, if physically strong enough, they would crack open their prey’s skull, take their soul-marble, crush it and suck out the remaining energy. Whether these souls still made it to Terminus, the final resting place, was actually unknown, which made for a great reason to stay away from ghouls.

    What took Samson slightly longer to explain was the answer to Andre’s follow-up question about who had created these ghouls. Apparently, the ghouls that existed today were replicated by other ghouls through a process somewhat analogous to asexual reproduction, but the original ghouls were created by the Seven Devil Kings of Hell. Andre remembered hearing somewhere that these were the demons responsible for the Uprising and mentioned this, to which Samson replied that this was indeed the case.

    The Seven Devil Kings were, as their name suggested, seven devils that ruled over Hell as kings 2000 years ago. Devils, Samson explained in a tangent, were demons proficient enough at black magic to make magical deals that provided the counterparty something they desired in exchange for their servitude to the devil. These deals allowed devils to rise into power all across Hell, but only with the discovery of an even more powerful form of black magic, sin magic, did seven of the strongest practitioners conquer the rest.

    Sin magic, however, was corruptive, gradually transforming its practitioners into agents of evil and whittling away any good left in them - not that there was much of it in these tyrannical devils. Still, a regular tyrant would have had little reason to create ghouls, constructs that did nothing but suck the life force out of anyone that crossed their path. For a sin-corrupted tyrant, though, anything that caused more misery in the world was a worthwhile goal.

    “So…” Andre said. “What happened to the Devil Kings in the Uprising? They were defeated, right?”

    “Sure were!” Samson replied.

    Red scoffed behind them.

    “What?” Andre asked flatly.

    “Birdboy here doesn't seem to recall the last part of the story,” Red said. “The Devil Kings’ bodies were never found.”

    “Ah, but their deals had been broken, and people were no longer in their thrall,” Samson said, holding up a finger. “That always happens when you kill a devil.”

    “Or they broke the deals themselves in order to disappear,” Red said.

    Samson shrugged. “Well, whatever happened, they haven't been seen for two thousand years. They wouldn't be as powerful, anyway, what with the muting of magic Arukei did. And if they were to come back, Arukei could simply defeat them again.”

    “Only if they threatened Heaven. Arukei didn't step in until that happened, no matter how much Hell suffered under the Kings’ rule. He just doesn’t care about us demons.”

    Samson looked visibly bothered.

    “Cat got your tongue, birdboy?”

    Andre had his own doubts about Arukei, but seeing someone as friendly as Samson in distress made him feel bad.

    Samson sighed. “I hear what you're saying, and it's something I've certainly thought about myself. But the fact of the matter is that Hell is Hell. It's not supposed to be nice here - this is the place where sinners go as their sanction. I wish that it was nicer to demons, though, and I've been trying to do my own part in making that happen, but…” He shook his head. “Well, I can't claim to always understand Arukei's behavior.”

    Red huffed. “And you still swear by him? You made it your profession to defend him? What do you even get out of it?”

    Samson looked up into the sky. After a moment, he smiled. “I get to comfort people. Help them find light in the darkness. Teach them to help others. That sort of thing.” He looked back at Red. “That's what Arukei's teachings stand for. His teachings I never doubt.”

    “Mm.” Red seemed too indifferent to provide a more substantial response.

    The conversation did not continue, and silence reclaimed its reign after a long wait. Not too long after, they had another break to rest and eat. Before, during and after their meal, Andre noticed that Yardley seemed to be glancing at Samson as if the cyclops was waiting for the supervisor to leave again. Andre’s suspicions were confirmed when Samson indeed left to do his business and Yardley said what Andre expected him to say, though had hoped that he wouldn’t.

    “Okay. So I know my escape suggestion didn’t go over that well the first time, but I really think y’all should reconsider.”

    Jenny groans. “Seriously?”

    “Yes, seriously. There’s a great opportunity here and you’re all letting it go to waste.” He gestured to Andre. “And Wings here hasn’t ratted me out so far, so I don’t think he will.”

    “Thanks…?” Andre said.

    “Well, as I said before, I think you should go for it,” Red said. “Might be funny.”

    “Why do you even want to escape so badly?” Jenny asked.

    “Uh, because being free is better than not being free, obviously,” Yardley said. “And my girl’s out there. I wanna see her again.”

    “Doesn’t the program allow visitors?” Andre said.

    Yardley made a face. “Well, she’s in a little bit of trouble. The kind where you can’t go see officials and tell them who you are.”

    “Ah. So… you’d both be fugitives if you escaped?”

    “Yeah,” Yardley replied, nodding. “Two young demons on the road, running from the law, having no one - yet needing no one - but themselves. Ain’t it romantic?”

    “I suppose,” Andre said. Yardley did seem quite young, and the young were idealistic. “But if both of you are wanted people, that’s twice as dangerous. If one of you stays clean, they can shelter the other.”

    Yardley scoffed. “She doesn’t need my help. She’s made it just fine on her own so far.”

    Andre wanted to keep arguing, but Jenny shushed him, her eyes on something behind him. Andre looked and saw that Samson was coming back again.

    “Okay,” Yardley whispered. “I’m putting you all down as a ‘no’. That’s fine. Just don’t get in my way tonight.”

    Having gotten those words out, he turned to Samson and grinned with a wave. Samson waved back, seeming delighted by the sudden change for the better in the cyclops’ attitude.

    The break soon came to an end after that, and more walking followed until the sun finally dipped under the horizon. It was actually the first sunset that Andre had properly seen since he’d come to Hell. It wasn’t quite as beautiful as the sunsets in Heaven as there was no spectrum from red to blue - only red and more red - but it was still decently pretty.

    Samson told them they could finally call it a day and set up camp. Limbs aching, they did their best in setting up the tents - Red seemed strangely adept at this - before Samson gathered some twigs from a nearby shrub to set a bonfire. They had their final meal of the day, drank their thirst away, did their business and then got ready to turn in for the night. Samson, though, made them watch as he erected the hallowed beacon and let them all know where the hallowed dagger would be kept in case they needed to go out at night and protect themselves from any ghouls.

    When they were moving into their tents - as it turned out, Andre would be sharing his with Red - Andre took one last look at Samson. He thought about the possibility of telling Samson about Yardley’s plans, but dismissed them again on the same grounds. The others would overhear him talking to Samson and tell everyone they knew back at the program facility that Andre was a snitch, and that would make him useless as an informant. Yeah. He could defend himself like that to Samson and Ronove afterwards.

    He entered his tent, where Red had already crawled into his sleeping bag and lay on the floor facing the wall. Andre had a feeling he wasn’t asleep yet, which made him a bit uneasy now that he knew Red was in the program for murder and was thus likely to also have killed Jake as the demon smugly kept suggesting. But, well, Andre had already spent a few nights in the same room as Red before, and he hadn’t done anything to him those times.

    I’m sure it’ll be fine, Andre thought to himself as he slipped into his own sleeping bag and closed his eyes. I’m sure it’ll be fine.

    ---

    Red

    Darkness. Rapid breathing. Cold sweat. Another wakeup from another nightmare.

    He waited for his breathing to calm, his heartbeat to slow down. But he couldn’t just lie back down and risk ending up in the bad dream again. He had to get away.

    But he couldn’t go far. He was still on the Crimson Plains trip with a monitor tied to his ankle. He’d have to stay within… did he know how close he had to stay? Well, surely he could be forgiven for accidentally straying too far if it was no further than a piss trip away.

    He emerged from his sleeping bag like a moth from its cocoon, careful not to wake up Andre - not because he any gave any kind of a shit about his beauty sleep, but because he’d just be an annoyance. He put on his leather jacket, grabbed the flashlight on the floor and exited the tent into the clear night, a waxing crescent moon and dozens of stars shining down on him.

    He breathed in the air. Cool. Fresh. Refreshing. Yes, a walk would do wonders.

    He fetched the hallowed dagger from Samson’s backpack and shined the flashlight around, trying to see what was in the distance. He saw a small hill some way off and decided to make his way there. Having reached the apex, he sat down with a sigh, turned off the flashlight and looked up at the stars.

    On Earth, those would have been distant suns, many of them even bigger than Earth’s own. In Hell, a pocket realm that didn’t expand much beyond its lone solar system, they were only glowing orbs of magical energy set in the ionosphere. Most were white, but some were red or golden, and they vaguely twinkled. The longer Red stared at them, the more of them he could see.

    He supposed that, no matter what happened in his life, those stars would always be there. Overpowered by the sun’s light or covered up by clouds, they still remained, waiting for the next clear night to be seen.

    But would that mean anything to him if he ended up with no place to go? Would he have to sleep under these stars, growing to resent them as hunger gouged his gut?

    Samson promised to give Jenny a good reference if she ever needed it when she was applying for work. He’d probably do the same for Red, too. But would that and some obscure education certificate from prison really be enough to work as a substitute for proper education? The curricula of the courses in the program were just barely above high school stuff… and what Red had lost was an actual biology degree in the making. The best animal-related job he was going to get now was that of a pet sitter. And considering there was no shortage of teens doing that for dirt cheap, he was not going to get by with that profession.

    Red sighed again. So this was what it was like to be the lowest class of Hell before sinners. Sure made him feel like he took his well-off background for granted. Not that his family was anything to be thankful about…

    He set down the flashlight and hallowed dagger in his hands and leaned back. Pet sitter. Hellhounds. Hellcats. Hellpigs? Some people had started getting hellpigs as pets, he’d heard of that. Well, pigs were surprisingly smart. Smart enough for Red to sometimes feel bad about eating them, but not too bad in the end. They did, after all, go to Terminus after they died, just like everything else in Hell or Heaven. And Terminus was a nice place, at least compared to the idea of simply disappearing. Still, in Terminus, you lost your body and you lost your sense of self. Even if it wasn’t a total death, it was a partial one. Significant enough to be something you should try to avoid.

    Back to pigs. There certainly was one pig that was relevant to Red - Jake. He wondered where that guy was now. Long gone, of course, but where would he head? How was the life of a fugitive lived? How did Yardley’s girlfriend do it? How did Yardley think he was going to do it?

    Right, Yardley. That idiot would probably try his escape at some point. Red would have to be careful not to look like he was assisting him. Maybe the others would back him up…

    Well, no. Nobody liked him. They might just give him a taste of his own medicine by justifying a false testimony with ‘might be funny’. Even Andre might hate him enough to go against his own nature as an angel. Part of Red, a very stupid part, actually hoped he would. That would make Red retroactively justified in treating him so poorly.

    Actually, no. There were plenty of reasons to dislike Andre already. He came from Heaven, never having known any hardship or what life in Hell was like, and he just… made friends immediately on his first day. As if making friends was easy. As if he could just go up to them and charm them with his fucking neat clothes and perfect hair. And he did. That’s exactly what he did.

    How does he get away with it? Looking the way he does, acting the way he does? Being so fucking gay? You could smell it off him. Why hadn’t that made him a target? Why hadn’t Jake gone after him instead? What was so fucking magnetic about Red to bullies? Was there actually something wrong with him?

    Well, he had his attitude. But it was the exact same kind of attitude as the bullies had. Was that it? Was he a threat to them? God, he’d like to think that. If he couldn’t get others to respect him, his next best option would be to make them fear him. That’s why he’d spun that shit about killing Jake in the first place. That, and it was satisfying to freak out Andre. Stupid pansy.

    He closed his eyes. What a mess he’d gotten himself into. And it was probably all his own fault.

    He stayed like that for a while. It was nice, just feeling the slow cool wind.

    Hey. What was that? That noise that sounded like something being dragged, approaching him from behind?

    Red opened his eyes, grabbed the hallowed dagger and turned aroun-

    A skeletal hand slapped the dagger out of Red’s grasp, while another pushed his chest back, pinning him down on the ground. It was pressing all too hard, barely allowing Red to breathe. The light of the stars and the moon were barely enough to let him see what had attacked him - a large, floating skeletal monster with bloody flesh hanging off its bones. Its eye sockets, blacker than the night around them, contained tiny pupils of crimson light, and under their stare, Red felt paralyzed. It was as if everything had gone quiet, as if he could only perceive that ghoul anymore. Everything else was silent darkness.

    The ossigula exhaled a hissing breath, noxious in its stench, not that the rest of the ghoul smelled good. Then it changed its grasp, sliding its hand from Red’s chest to his neck, pinning it down next. Its touch was freezing. Red could no longer see what the ghoul was doing, only seeing emptiness above him, but he had a bad feeling he knew what was coming.

    Talons tore through his clothes and flesh as the ghoul dragged them from Red’s chest to his abdomen. Red tried to scream, but the hand on his throat made him unable. It dawned on him that he would not survive. His body could maybe be found in the morning with his soul still intact, and the others would bring him to a regeneration center, but that would still leave him with debt for the rest of his life. And what if that didn’t happen? What if the ghoul broke his soul-marble and sucked out the energy inside? What would happen to his soul then? Would it find its way to Terminus, or would it… disappear entirely? What would that be like? It couldn’t be good.

    Red heard another hissing noise, but given that this one came with a motherfucker of a chill all throughout his body, he knew the ghoul was breathing in. Breathing in his life force.

    With all the cold and the pain, it became hard to think. Red’s vision blurred and darkened. This was it. His first and possibly last death.

    He couldn’t come up with anything profound for his last thoughts and passed out.

    ---

    Andre

    Andre awoke into darkness. It took him a while to realize where he was - not at the program facility, certainly not back home in Heaven, but on the Crimson Plains hike.

    He didn’t know why he’d woken up. He couldn’t remember any nightmares. He supposed, then, that it was just something random.

    He nearly rolled over and went back to sleep, but curiosity overcame him. He sprouted his halo for a little bit of light to see Red…

    …but he wasn’t there.

    Probably taking a leak, Andre thought, but then the doubts emerged. What if Red was the one that was going to try and escape tonight? Yardley certainly hadn’t - Andre was sure that it would have triggered some kind of loud alarm. So… where was Red, then?

    Andre crawled out of his sleeping bag. He made a note of the fact that the flashlight was gone, but this didn’t bother him much. He had his own source of light.

    He emerged from the tent and looked around. In the glow of his halo, first alone and then combined with his wings, he couldn’t see the demon anywhere near the camp. Without a light he could point at something, though, he didn’t have much chance of seeing further away. Unless…

    He withdrew his halo and wings and waited. The darkness around gradually became brighter as his eyes adjusted to the dim light the moon and the stars provided, and he spotted a silhouette of something on top of a nearby hill. That must have been Red. He seemed to be… sitting still. So, not escaping. But maybe considering escaping. If that was the case, Andre needed to talk some sense into him. It was no skin off his back if Yardley tried - and likely failed - to escape, but Red was another story, being Andre’s pair.

    Andre checked Samson’s backpack. The hallowed dagger wasn’t there - good, Red had some sense of self-preservation - but the maloscope was. Had he forgotten about it, or was he so confident in his vigilance that he wanted to take the chance with slaying ghouls before they could slay him? He could have been that stupid, honestly. Andre sighed and took the maloscope, checking it with a jiggle. The arrow didn’t seem to point anywhere in particular. No ghouls around… or no ghouls around so close that the maloscope could tell.

    He began making his way towards the hill. Red didn’t move. He must have been deep in thought, maybe had his eyes closed, as Andre figured it was likely that Red had the same level of night vision as him by now. Or maybe Red was ignoring him. Didn’t matter that much.

    Looking for something to fiddle with to pass the time, Andre took another look at the maloscope. It certainly was a curious device. Reacting to unholy energy… of which there was apparently tons underneath the planet’s surface. But from what he’d learned of it during his time here, it was not something easy to use. Being the polar opposite of holy energy, exposure to it was hazardous to one’s health instead of healing. Only strong magic could contain it safely, and magic had been muted in the past 2000 years, so… Hell was better off trying to handle electricity and base its technology on that instead.

    Hm. The maloscope’s needle, which had been spinning lazily before, had started hovering near the front for a while. Was that just random movement, for was that…

    Andre looked up, and there it was. A large, dark figure attacking Red.

    “Red!” he yelled. He looked back. The camp was further than he was from Red at this point. If he went back and tried to call for help, Red could already be a goner. He had to try and rescue him. And it was possible, it had to be, because he knew Red had the hallowed dagger with him, wherever it had gone.

    Andre ran for Red, praying that the ghoul wouldn’t notice. As he arrived, his breath and pulse rapid, he took in the scene. Red was lying on the ground, immobile, while the ghoul - the massive floating skeleton with no lower body and a terrible smell - loomed on top of the demon, doing… whatever it was doing. Probably sucking out Red’s life force. Andre didn’t know how long it took for that to kill a demon, but he assumed time was of the essence.

    Andre circled the ghoul and scanned the ground for the dagger, but it was too dark. He sprouted his wings and halo, then flinched as he realized that it could possibly set off the ghoul… but it didn’t, luckily. He looked at the ground again with this new source of light and located the dagger. He grabbed it and turned it on.

    That set off the ghoul.

    It turned its head to Andre, staring with red pupils from empty sockets of black. Andre froze. That stare was… petrifying. The light around him seemed to wane, and he felt a sinking feeling. What was happening? Was this something ghouls could do? Something this particular kind of ghoul could do?

    No, he would not let this monster win. Andre would not allow it to kill anyone, be it Red or Andre himself.

    He took a deep breath and looked past the ghoul, almost willing his surroundings to brighten, the spell to weaken. He took a step back, then another, then another. But once the ghoul turned back to Red and sucked in another breath, Andre ran at it and jammed the dagger into the ghoul’s spine.

    Andre expected the ghoul to screech like the false-rabbit had, but it was silent. He worried for a moment that his attack had done nothing, but then saw the bone darkening. The black color spread, making the bones begin crumbling wherever it advanced, until the whole ghoul collapsed into grainy chunks on top of red, further eroding into loose sand in the seconds that followed.

    But Red, motionless when Andre last caught a glimpse of him, was now buried under that sand. Andre placed down the hallowed dagger and quickly dug out enough of Red to pull him out from under the pile. He then checked Red’s breathing, Red’s pulse. There was none of the former and only a weak ticking of the latter. He’d have to try and resuscitate, right? God, how was it done again? Okay, no, he remembered, or he thought he did. This better work on demons the same way, he thought to himself…

    He assumed the position he recalled being the correct one. Rate of compressions… he couldn’t remember the number, but he’d heard that you’d get the right pace by thinking of the song Fever by Ragu-Ragu. He performed thirty compressions - Red was so cold, god - and then… okay, he always knew this part would be awkward, but that was no excuse. He tilted back Red’s head, opened his mouth, closed his nostrils and covered his mouth with his own. God, Red had some nasty-tasting breath… but so did all of them, not being able to brush their teeth on this trip. He blew into his lungs once, then let the air out, then blew again before returning to the compressions. That wasn’t so bad. Well, for Andre. He didn’t know how properly he’d actually done it. Red could even die because of him if he didn’t do it right… but it was better to try than leave him unbreathing, right? Andre hoped so…

    He kept resuscitating, and to his great relief, Red seemed to be warming up a bit. Or maybe Andre was just getting used to the cold. Still, after a few minutes, when Andre was getting quite tired… he could see Red’s chest moving on its own. He held his hand above his mouth and felt air streaming in and out. Andre sighed in great relief - could he stop now? Should he stop now? Well, he could at least try to call for help now. Or… should he? Could there be other ghouls lurking around that would hear him shouting and know there was prey nearby?

    Red coughed, and Andre turned back to him in a heartbeat. The demon’s brow wrinkled as he coughed some more before opening his eyes.

    “Red!” Andre whisper-yelled. “Are you okay?”

    Red coughed some more before responding. “What?”

    ”Are you okay?” Andre repeated more clearly.

    Red shivered. “Oh, yeah. I feel great.”

    “Now’s not the time for sarcasm,” Andre hissed. “You almost died!”

    Red didn’t respond at first, trying to sit up. Andre didn’t know if he should stop him. He did have to get Red to the camp somehow. He decided to help him upright.

    Red looked at his abdomen and winced. “Fuck. There’s sand in my wounds.”

    “Ghoul sand,” Andre said. “I don’t know if that makes it worse.”

    “Hope not,” Red said, sighing. “Are we gonna have to walk to the camp?”

    Andre nodded. “Yeah. Let’s be quiet. We don’t know what else is lurking around here.”

    “Mm…”

    Andre picked up the hallowed dagger, turned it off and pocketed it. With great effort, he helped Red up, and the two began hobbling back towards the camp. Andre kept an eye on the maloscope, but it seemed like it was no longer picking up anything. The ghoul’s unholy energy must have dissipated the same way holy energy did without proper containment.

    He looked at Red. The demon seemed lost in thought with an occasional wince of pain. Andre wondered whether he should try to make conversation, but maybe it was better for Red not to strain himself right now.

    “Did you…” Red suddenly began.

    “Hm?” Andre tilted his head.

    “Did you… save my life?”

    Andre blinked. He’d done that. He’d actually saved Red’s life without even thinking twice about it. Even when he was such an asshole - a murderer, even…

    “...Yeah,” the angel replied.

    Red was quiet for a few steps.

    “Okay,” he eventually said.

    ’Okay’. Not ‘thank you’. Seriously?

    Whatever. Andre shook his head. Maybe he was just too confused to say the proper thing at this time. Or maybe he actually was such a jackass that he didn’t feel like thanking the guy who put his life on the line to… no, better let it go.

    Eventually, they made it back to the camp. Andre set Red down on the ground and woke up Samson. Samson was drowsy at first, but woke up properly right away once Andre explained the situation to him. He took his communicator and called the program staff immediately, asking them to call an ambulance and bring a car of their own to get the other members of the group back to the program facility.

    After the call ended, Samson performed his own first aid on Red, cleaning his dirty wounds as best as he could before wrapping them up. It seems they weren’t that deep in the end, or Red would have passed out from blood loss by now. When Red heard Andre say that, though, he laughed and said that it took more than that to do in a demon. Andre didn’t know if that was based on anything actual, but it did seem very lucky that Red had survived in general.

    Eventually, the ambulance and the other ride came. Paramedics lifted Red into the ambulance and the car drove off, headed for the hospital. The others, in turn, got into the remaining car and started their trip back to the program facility. In the backseat, Andre could notice a very sour expression on Yardley’s face. The angel supposed that the cyclops actually failed to wake up to try his escape, and now he wouldn’t have that kind of chance for the rest of his time in the program. Well, maybe he’d learn to like it here. Or at least not detest it.

    Once they arrived at the facility, all the inmates headed straight to bed. Once Andre made it to his own, he no longer had the energy to dwell on the night’s events, so he fell asleep rather quickly. The night passed peacefully.

    The following morning, the other hikes were announced as cancelled on the grounds of there possibly being more ossigulae around, to the great relief of many. Everyone would, however, still have to attend class normally. That was fine with Andre, honestly. A return to normalcy after such a drastic event was welcome.

    At breakfast, though…

    “Is it true?” Camila asked Andre as soon as he sat down at the table. Her eyes nearly sparkled.

    “Is what true?” Andre asked.

    “Did you slay an ossigula?”

    Andre paused. Had word of what had happened already spread through the facility? He looked at Alice and saw that even she seemed to be waiting for his answer in awe.

    “...Yeah,” he said. “I don’t know if I’d say ‘slay’, but --”

    Camila gasped with a grin, turning to Alice in shared glee. Andre had never seen Camila so excited.

    “What’s the big deal?” Andre asked. “I basically just stabbed a ghoul when it was distracted.”

    “Oh, no no no,” Camila said, holding up her forefinger. “That kind of story doesn’t do your heroism justice. You need to work on your delivery.”

    “I’d rather just tell the truth, thanks,” Andre said.

    Camila was about to say something, but Alice put a hand on her shoulder. “What you did was very impressive,” Alice said to Andre. “An ossigula is one of the most powerful species of ghoul still found in Hell.”

    “It did look the part…” Andre mused.

    “Oh, describe it, please,” Camila said, leaning forward. “Tell me everything.”

    Andre sighed. “Well, if you insist…”

    Andre recounted the events of the previous night in as much detail as he could remember, and Alice and Camila listened intently. After breakfast, Andre began to wonder if it was smart of him to fan the flames by putting more material out there. It wasn’t long before he found out - demon after demon approached him at random, asking to hear the rumored tale from the ‘Slayer’ himself. He told them what he’d told Alice and Camila, though with the foresight not to tell them about the mouth-to-mouth he’d given Red, as he felt it might have been taken the wrong way.

    At first, it was annoying. Then, he realized what a fantastic opportunity it was for an informant. People were talking to him, completely voluntarily, with no accusation of being a snitch. Mostly they did this to hear about Andre, but they were also open to talking about themselves, each yearning to make friends with the famous Slayer. All of that put together, Andre now had access to a lot more information.

    Andre seized that chance to revisit his investigation on Jake’s disappearance. He found out, unsurpisingly, that opinions on Jake were pretty much universally negative. Even his insect-headed cronies, Zeevo the fly-demon and Arby the locust-demon, thought little of the pig nowadays, thinking he’d betrayed them by escaping without helping them out as well. No one seemed to have really had it out for Jake, though, nor did anyone mention having seen anything that could be a clue in his disappearance.

    Andre also decided to inquire people about whether they had any electronics experience - some that would allow them to tamper with security cameras. He didn’t say that latter part directly, but he fished for it. Unfortunately, he couldn’t seem to find anyone to fit the bill for that, either. If anything, the closest match was Alice, but her expertise lay with physics instead of electronics - not to mention Andre just couldn’t see her as an accomplice to murder. But, then again, many had said the same about him…

    All of this happened over a few days. Come Sunday morning, though, Andre decided to halt his questions for the time being. He didn't want to push his luck. He began to wonder what he would spend his time on now until Samson came up to him and informed him that Red had returned and could be found in the infirmary. Andre decided to head there right away.

    Andre had been shown the infirmary before on the tour on his first day, so he knew where to go. Now, though, the door was locked, so he knocked. A guard - a tall, green-scaled reptilian man - opened the door, and Andre explained who he was and who he was here to see. The guard nodded and let him in.

    The infirmary was quite typical - a long room with beds against the walls. On the furthest one lay Red. He stared at Andre as the angel approached him, a conflicted expression on his face. He had the white gown of a patient on, and he’d withdrawn his horns to be able to fit into the bed and rest his head properly on the pillow underneath.

    Andre reached Red’s bedside. He pulled up a stool and sat down on it. “Hey.”

    Red looked at the angel for a moment. Andre had time to worry about him completely shutting him out, but he did eventually respond. “Hey,” he said, his voice quiet.

    Oh. Well, that’s better. Andre wanted to keep talking, but he looked over his shoulder first. It seemed that the guard had stayed back at the door. Andre turned back to Red. “How are you feeling?”

    “Alright, I guess, considering,” Red said. “I was lucky, really. The wounds didn’t get infected. That would have been nasty. Might have needed regeneration.”

    Andre hummed. “How does regeneration work in Hell, anyway?” He’d theorized before that it was expensive…

    “Well, how does it work in Heaven?”

    “Holy energy. Its presence heals you. But Hell doesn’t have that.”

    “Right. Well, it works with a combination of magic and electricity. But it takes a ton, so it’s expensive. If your body dies and they regenerate you, you’ll likely be in debt for the rest of your life.”

    “Ah.” It figured.

    “Is that not how it goes in Heaven?”

    Andre shook his head. “No, regeneration is free, like all healthcare.”

    Red huffed. “Of course. Everything’s just given to you up there.”

    “Not exactly, but… it is Heaven. People’s lives are supposed to be easy there.”

    “And Hell is supposed to be Hell, huh?” Red gave Andre a disapproving look.

    ‘That’s not what I meant,’ Andre was about to say, but quieted to consider his next words more carefully.

    “I think Samson had it right,” he said. “Hell should be Hell for sinners, but demons deserve better.”

    “Oh, really?” Red didn’t sound like he believed him.

    “Yeah.” Andre crossed his arms. “It’s true that when I came here, I was… uncertain about demons. But since then, I’ve met a bunch of very nice ones. I’ve also met unsavory ones, but they’ve hardly been worse than I know humans can be. And considering that these are the demons I’ve met while in a prison…” Andre shrugged. “It’s hard to imagine demons not simply being people. People with the potential for good and evil, just like humans or angels. But physically stronger and with… well, some violent tendencies.”

    He paused. Didn’t that undermine the whole point? Heaven thought angels and humans with violent tendencies were… ‘wicked’. ‘Demonhearts’. And Andre, despite knowing himself what it was like to want to hurt people, knowing there were situations in which it was right… couldn’t wholly disagree.

    “Mm.” Red didn’t protest, but he didn’t encourage Andre, either.

    There was a spell of silence before either of them spoke again.

    “So…” Red began. “Been meaning to ask. How’d you end up in here, anyway? Did they catch you littering in Heaven?”

    “I would never litter,” Andre said.

    Red’s eyes widened. Then he burst into laughter.

    “What’s so funny?” Andre demanded.

    “Just… the way you said that,” Red said, still grinning. “Like littering was as bad as murder.”

    “Littering is a selfish act that puts one’s small comfort over the health of the ecosystem and the beauty of the landscape,” Andre explained. “It’s a small infraction in the grand scheme of things, but it indicates an antisocial --”

    “Alright, birdboy, calm down,” Red said, waving a hand. “I don’t litter, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

    Red didn’t litter. It was hard to imagine the demon caring about the environment, but Andre did then recall that he was a biology student at university. Clearly, he had to have some attachment to nature.

    “Anyway… your crime. What was it?”

    Andre sighed. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

    Red held a stare before relenting. “Alright.”

    The young men were silent for a while. As Andre kept watching Red, though, it began seeming like he had something on his mind.

    “Is something bothering you?” Andre asked.

    Red stared at his hands for a moment. “Can I tell you a secret?” he then said, not raising his gaze. It looked like it strained him to say those words.

    Andre glanced at the guard at the other end of the room. The guard stared back. Andre leaned in towards Red and spoke in a lowered voice. “Sure, but you’ll have to say it quietly.”

    “I know,” Red replied, quietly as instructed. Then he sighed. And didn’t say anything afterwards.

    “Are you gonna tell me or what?” Andre asked.

    “Yes,” Red hissed. “Just… don’t rush me.”

    “Alright,” Andre muttered.

    Red waited yet another moment, fidgeting with his hands, looking around the room. “Okay,” he finally said. “Here it is.” He sighed again, then finally looked into Andre’s eyes. “I didn’t kill Jake.”

    Andre blinked, then drew back to briefly process this confession.

    So Red hadn’t killed Jake. He wasn’t the kind the kind of psycho he was pretending to be. But…

    Andre leaned back in. “Why did you say you killed him, then?”

    “Because…” Red exhaled through his nose and looked away. “I wanted… people to leave me alone.”

    “I mean, your personality was already enough to do that.”

    “You don’t get it. Being an asshole doesn’t get everyone off your ass. I mean, you saw how Jake treated me. I didn’t want to deal with that kind of shit.”

    Yeah, that was understandable.

    “So… when Jake went missing,” Red continued, “I saw my chance and took it.”

    Andre grasped his chin. So this was why Red had been acting out.

    Actually, while Red was speaking truthfully…

    “What about the murder that landed you here?” Andre asked. “Did you really kill a woman because she ‘didn’t know her place’?”

    Red frowned. “I don’t wanna talk about that.”

    “Yes or no.”

    “I said I don’t wanna talk about it,” Red growled. “So I won’t. Besides, you said you didn’t wanna talk about your crime, and I respected that. You should do the same for me.”

    Andre sighed. Fine. He’d switch back to the original subject. “So… you didn’t do anything at all to Jake?”

    Red calmed right away. “No. I didn’t touch a hair on his porcine body,” he said, staring at his hands.

    Andre quirked a brow. “Porcine?”

    Red flinched. “It’s… it’s just a… word I heard on TV.”

    Andre squinted. “Are you… ashamed of knowing a word like that?”

    The demon scratched his arm. “I’m not… I’m not a nerd.”

    “You’re a university student. In biology. You’ve got to be some kind of nerd.”

    Red gave Andre a surprisingly distressed look.

    “Wh…” Andre blinked. “Red, it’s fucking fine to be a nerd. I’m a nerd. Alice, that bat-demoness, she’s a nerd. Nerds are great.”

    Red held a gaze, but then huffed. “Whatever. I’m not a nerd, though.” He glared back. “Don’t go telling people I’m a fuckin’ nerd.”

    “I won’t,” Andre said, holding up his palm. He would have to tell Samson and Mr Ronove that Red confessed to not having killed Jake, though. It felt a little rotten breaking that promise when Red had shown such vulnerability, but a murder investigation came before Red’s feelings.

    “Good,” Red said, then sighed. He appeared to struggle with some emotion for a moment, then sighed again and spoke. “Thanks, by the way.”

    “For what?”

    “For…” Red gestured to himself. “For saving my life, obviously. Dumbass…”

    Andre smiled. “You’re welcome.”

    Red crossed his arms. Andre figured soon that it was time for him to leave.

    “Well, I'll get out of your hair now,” he said, getting up. "See you around."

    “Alright,” Red said. “See ya.”

    Andre made his way back to the door and exited. As tacky as it seemed to go parrot something told to him in confidence to a third party right away, he headed for the library. Halfway on the way there, though, he realized that this was the first conversation he’d had with Red that had left him feeling nice.

    Maybe it was one of more to come.

    ---​

    Andre entered the library and saw that the librarian was present. Good.

    Wordlessly, the angel circled through the library to make sure that no one was there. Then he approached the librarian again.

    “Could’ve told you that it was empty,” the librarian said in a friendly tone before Andre could get a word in.

    Andre smiled with a huff. The librarian was a nice person. She was a heavier middle-aged woman with round glasses and curly gray-brown hair and, oddly, no visible demonic features. She did, however, have some kind of small black device strapped around her neck. Andre didn’t know what it was, but thought it might have been medical. And that’s not something you just ask about.

    “I can just tell you what it is,” she said.

    Andre flinched. Right. He had been staring. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

    “That’s alright,” she said. “You’re an angel. You wouldn’t know what it is.” She tapped on the hard plastic cover of the device. “It’s a suppressor. It’s so that my demonic features can’t come out.”

    “Do they come out when you don’t want them to?”

    “Not really,” she said. “It’s just that my features are… hazardous to be around. My demon form is that of a large toad with skin poisonous to the touch. Wouldn’t want that to come out accidentally. And, well, it’s a security measure as well.”

    Andre nodded. “Ah.” He paused. “Does it… bother you, not being able to be in your demon form? Almost everyone seems to be in their demon form whenever they can help it.”

    “Well, for demons, it’s a pride thing,” she explained. “And keeps you from getting confused with sinners. You don’t want to look like a sinner, no. You can get mauled on the street for that.”

    Andre frowned. While he had no sympathy for the worst of the sinners, those ones were locked up, right? The ones walking on the streets were just assholes. If Blackwing didn’t consider those guys worthy of death on Earth, then they shouldn’t just be mauled at random in Hell. And what happened to them afterwards? Did anyone care enough to have their bodies regenerated? Or was their soul left alone to sink into stasis until its timer expired?

    “I don’t like it, either,” the librarian said. “But I’m not sure what I can do about it. Anyone who campaigns for sinners’ rights gets laughed out of running. Sinners themselves can’t even run.”

    “Hmm.”

    “Oh, but we don’t have to talk about this,” the librarian said. “You’re here to exchange information, right?”

    Andre nodded. “Yeah.” Just to be sure, he looked around again before speaking. “I spoke with Red just now. He’s saying now that he didn’t kill Jake. That he was just acting like he had to scare people away.”

    The librarian typed on the computer as she listened. At the end, she hummed. “Always thought that boy was putting on some kind of front.”

    “I also tried to look for people with the knowhow to disable security cameras, but couldn’t come across any. So far, anyway.”

    The librarian nodded, typing again.

    “That’s all I have this time,” Andre said. “Anything for me?”

    “Hold on a second. This thing can’t write and read messages at the same time.” She typed some more. “Alright, that’s your message sent. Let’s check the inbox…” More typing. Andre realized at that moment that the computer had no mouse. He supposed they hadn’t yet been invented - or at least popularized.

    “Oh!” the librarian said. “New message. Exciting.” She paused to open it. “It’s from Mr Ronove,” she said. Then she read the message. She frowned and looked back to Andre.

    “What is it?” Andre asked.

    “Well…” she began. “It seems that another inmate has gone missing.”

    ---​
     
    Last edited:
    Chapter Five - No Fly Zone
  • canisaries

    you should've known the price of evil
    Premium
    Location
    Stovokor
    Pronouns
    she/her
    Partners
    1. inkay-shirlee
    2. houndoom-elliot
    3. yamask-joanna
    4. shuppet
    5. deerling-andre
    6. omanyte
    7. hizzap
    Hi everyone! Been a bit. I've had to do some serious outlining for this story, and while it wasn't easy, I think I do have something to go off of now. Thanks to @NebulaDreams for betareading this chapter.

    Content warnings for homophobia (including slurs), sexual themes and violence. Enjoy!

    ---

    CHAPTER FIVE
    No Fly Zone


    ---

    Red

    Red sighed as he watched the clock tick. It felt slow. Agonizingly slow. Why couldn't time pass more quickly so that he could leave the infirmary already? To get something else on his mind?

    No, it seemed like he was cursed to ruminate. To replay his conversation with Andre again and again. God, hadn't he almost died a few nights ago? Why wasn't he dwelling on that instead?

    Well, he supposed it hadn't been his only brush with death. As an aspiring zoologist, he'd spent a lot of time in the wild and encountered some dangerous creatures. Like that one time with the manticore. He would have been minced meat if it hadn't been for his bear spray. Or maybe… no, probably not.

    In any case… the conversation. Thanks to that exchange, Andre now knew Red was just a poser. That the tough exterior was just a facade. That inside, Red really was bothered by the things people said. Though, really, had he been concealing that properly to begin with? Anytime someone suggested anything about him being a pansy, in the gay sense or otherwise, he began panicking and lashed out. He'd told himself that to an onlooker it would just look like he was very proud and protective of his reputation instead of actually being insecure, but really, he was just self-deluding.

    Even the way he dressed betrayed what he really was, if Jenny was to be believed. 'You dress like some fag who thinks he’s hard.' Of course. Why hadn't he realized it before? No, he had. He just never listened to that part of him that was wise to it. He just really wanted to wear those clothes, so he'd made excuses and forced himself to believe them.

    But would he have to change how he dressed now? No, he couldn't. It would show that Jenny's comment had gotten to him. Besides, he didn't have that many clothes here to begin with. The jacket would stay on.

    When it was on, anyway. Right now, he still only wore that patient's gown. He knew that his jacket was sent back to the program facility from the hospital with the rest of his clothes, but he didn't know exactly where they were. He also reckoned he wouldn't be allowed to wear them during his stay at the infirmary to begin with. Still, he yearned for it. It was like part of his body, his being, just as much as his horns and tail were.

    Hm. He wondered how the jacket had survived the encounter with the ghoul. Had it been torn? He hoped not at first, but then thought about how cool it would be to wear a jacket that had been torn by an ossigula. Like having a badass scar on one's face.

    He realized he hadn't thought of the conversation for a while. He felt triumphant until he realized that that observation, by nature, brought the conversation back to the front of his mind. He sighed again.

    Well… was there a way to think about this constructively? Figure out what his plan was going forward instead of just wallowing? He couldn't just continue the way he'd been going before, that was clear. He'd have to shut the fuck up about Jake, for one. That ship had sailed. If someone brought it up, he'd have to vaguely suggest it had been a joke. That way, if word came out that he'd lied, he could just claim that it was always supposed to be that way and people just hadn't been smart enough to get his wickedly funny joke. Ugh. How stupid. But it was better than just straight up admitting that he wanted to sound cool.

    And Andre… what about Andre? Red couldn't give him attitude anymore as it increased the risk of Andre going ahead and blabbing about their heartfelt discussion. But becoming a suck-up was even worse. Following around and brownnosing such a fruit would completely destroy his pride, not to mention his masculinity. He had to strike a balance. He had to be nice, but not too nice. He had to be… somewhere between tolerable and friendly. God. He'd really have his work cut out for him…

    Well, at least this idea was a start. Some kind of attempt to solve a problem rather than just worry about it. It would surely help him in taking any subsequent steps. Yeah. Okay. So, how much time had passed?

    Red checked the clock. It had been four minutes.

    Damn it.

    ---

    Andre

    "Another… inmate?" Andre repeated. "Another inmate?"

    The librarian nodded. "That's what it says here. Come, take a look."

    Andre rounded the desk and looked at the email on the screen, its letters green on a black background. A worrying development, read the title, and the sender was Mr Ronove. Andre kept reading…

    Hello, Mr Duval. I am writing to let you know of a new worrying development. It has come to the staff's attention that another inmate has gone missing. This inmate is one Zeevo Balson, an insectoid demon of the muscid variety - in other words, a housefly demon. His brother, Arby Balson, spoke to his supervisor this morning about how he was unable to locate Zeevo, and this supervisor relayed the information to the rest of the staff. We took immediate action in trying to find him, as last night, another "malfunction" had been witnessed in the security cameras - yes, another fifteen minutes of static. As our search for Zeevo proved fruitless, we must conclude that the perpetrator behind Jake Manning's disappearance has struck again.

    Please find out what you can about Zeevo or anyone he interacted with and report back with your findings. His dorm room number was 203D, same as his brother.

    Best of luck,
    Gideon Ronove


    "Zeevo…" Andre said quietly. "He used to hang out with Jake before Jake disappeared, alongside Arby. They both thought Jake left them behind when he 'escaped'. I talked to him briefly. He didn't seem like that bad of a guy when Jake was away…"

    And now he could have been dead, just like that. Even if Andre didn't know him that well, it was pretty upsetting. Jake was a bully. Zeevo was just a lackey. Who could have hated Zeevo enough to do this? Could they hate Andre that much, too? Oh, that wasn't a nice thought at all.

    "It sounds to me like whoever's doing this has it out for Jake and his cohorts," the librarian said. "Though… it could also be coincidence, or because of some other common factor they share."

    Andre nodded, tense. "Yeah. Can you tell Mr Ronove that I'll do my best to look into Zeevo?"

    "Sure, but let's check if he's responded to your previous message in the meantime."

    The librarian exited the email and, indeed, Mr Ronove had responded. The librarian opened it to let Andre read.

    Thank you for your report, Mr Duval. I do believe Mr Akai in his confession. Consider him ruled out as a suspect for now.

    However, I also want to instruct you to remain careful when asking around. Try your best to make it appear as though your investigation is unrelated to the staff's endeavors. Of course, you are a bright young man, so must have already been doing this. I simply wish to remind you to keep it up.

    Best of luck,
    Gideon Ronove


    Andre found the inclusion of that additional instruction a bit patronizing. Of course he was doing that already. He was a Blackwing, for Arukei's sake.

    "Alright," Andre said, "read it. This doesn't change my message much. Just make it clear that I received it and have acknowledged what he had to say."

    "Got it," the librarian replied. She wrote up a response to the email and turned to Andre. After he confirmed that it was what he wanted, the message was sent, and Andre left with an exchange of goodbyes.

    Having exited the library, Andre made his way to his dorm room to kill time, knowing he couldn't go to Arby directly or he'd appear suspicious. He wrote some more notes in Cherubian script in his room and drew a few sketches until the time came for lunch. Andre sat down with Alice and Camila as he always did, and it seemed Alice had something she wanted to say…

    "You hear about Zeevo, Andre?" the bat-demoness asked.

    "Uh… who was that again?" Andre asked back, though internally, he was quite pleased. Hearing about Zeevo naturally like this freed him up to go see Arby about it.

    "Fly guy. Jake's crony."

    "Oh, him. What about him?"

    "Word is that he's missing. But not like Jake. Zeevo's brother, Arby, is sure that he wouldn't have taken off without him. So I think something actually might have happened to him."

    Andre feigned surprise. "Really?"

    "Yeah. I think he might have been whacked. Isn't that something?"

    Andre found Alice's reaction a bit odd. She didn't seem worried so much as she seemed fascinated. But maybe that was just another demon thing. Or… No, it's probably not sensible to assume just based on this that she's the one that did it, Andre thought.

    "Yeah, that's something," Andre replied. "I hope they figure out who did it. I don't like the idea of being trapped in a building with a killer."

    Camila raised a brow. "Andy, dude, there's like seven guys here that have killed someone."

    "You know what I mean. The people here killed for 'understandable reasons', meaning, like, self-defense." Andre paused. "And please don't call me Andy. You sound like my aunt, and you don't wanna sound like her."

    "Fine," Camila said and returned to her food. Andre figured he ought to eat as well and fell quiet as he did so.

    Alice continued to talk a bit about the case around Zeevo, but there wasn't really anything Andre hadn't heard from Mr Ronove. Eventually, lunch concluded. Andre fetched his pen and notebook from his room and headed to 203D. Once there, he knocked the door.

    "Who's there?" Arby called.

    "Andre," Andre said. "The, uh, angel. Red's pair. We've spoken before."

    After a brief, slightly-too-long period of silence, the door clicked open and Arby poked his head through. Andre was surprised by how someone with a half-locust face could look so distinctly worried.

    "What do you want?" Arby asked. It didn't seem like he said it in a hostile way.

    "I heard about Zeevo," Andre said. "I'd like to know more."

    "...Why?" the locust-demon asked.

    "I think something weird is going on in this program. I want to get to the bottom of it."

    To Andre’s great surprise, Arby's face lit up. "Come in, come in," he said, letting the angel in and closing the door behind them.

    Andre gave the room a quick glance. It seemed that one half was quite messy with an unmade bed, used tissues crumpled up and a suspicious dark stain on the floor while the other half was as clean as Andre's own. Andre crinkled his nose. Was the messy one Zeevo's half of the room, or Arby's? It probably didn't matter.

    "So," Andre began, turning back to the locust-demon, "when was the last time you saw Zeevo?"

    "Last night, when I went to bed," Arby answered. "I woke up in the middle of the night, somewhere around 3 AM, and he wasn't there anymore. I thought he might have just gone out for a leak, but he wasn't there when I woke up again in the morning, either. I got a bad feeling, so I checked his regular places. He wasn't in any of those, either."

    He scratched his chitinous arm. "At that point, I asked my supervisor, and he said that he'd talk to the rest of the staff. I came back to my room, and then a bit later, some guards showed up to ask questions about Zeevo. Like, when the last time I saw him was, and if Zeevo had ever talked about wanting to escape." His hands curled into fists. "But he wouldn't do that! N-not without me, anyway." He let out a tense sigh, crossing his arms. "And now I'm honestly wondering if Jake even really did that…"

    Andre nodded and wrote down notes as Arby spoke, still in Cherubian.

    "Do you think Jake escaped?" Arby asked.

    "I don't really know," Andre said. "I'm hoping to find out."

    Arby nodded. "I hope you do. It did come as a pretty big surprise that Jake had seemingly escaped without telling either of us anything… you probably knew we were pretty tight."

    "Yeah, I noticed."

    "I mean, he was always a little… bossy. And said some nasty shit about Zeevo sometimes. But it was always a joke, you know. Even if it didn't always feel like that to Zeevo." Arby raised his hands. "You're not gonna go around and tell people I said all this, are you?" He seemed to be getting more and more distressed by the thought, as if it hadn't occurred to him before. Probably hadn't - anyone would find it hard to think straight when their loved one had just gone missing.

    Andre's thoughts strayed to Ellie. God, if something were to happen to Ellie, Andre certainly wouldn't be able to function. That thought aroused a lot of sympathy for Arby, not that Andre was specifically lacking in it before.

    "I promise I'll keep it to myself," Andre said, feeling a bit rotten again right after for promising these things when he knew he couldn't stick to them. "Angel's word."

    Arby's mouthparts contorted into a smile, but it disappeared soon after. Andre shoved his discomfort into a distant corner of his mind.

    "So…" Andre began again. "What else can you tell me about Zeevo?"

    "Well… let's see. He's… a good guy. Like, he's pretty excitable, and maybe a little bit of an idiot, and very messy…" Arby gestured to the messy half of the room. That answered that question. "But he isn't, like, an asshole. Even if we fight sometimes, we're still close. Like brothers are, you know?"

    Andre wasn't particularly close with his own brothers, but he nodded anyway, still writing.

    "And that's really why I think he wouldn't escape without me, let alone without telling me beforehand. So he must have been taken, or…" Arby frowned deeper. He looked like he might cry, as much as a locust-hybrid could. He then sniffed - Andre wasn't sure how, but then again, he wasn't sure how Zeevo had talked through his proboscis before. Must have been some magical property of demon body parts. "Yeah. He's a good guy, is what I'm saying."

    "Yeah, I believe you," Andre said, even if being the lackey of a bully did not strike him as something a morally upstanding person would do. "How about the people Zeevo interacted with? Can you name some?"

    Arby crossed his arms. "Well, there's me, and there was Jake before he went missing, who I already told you about. It was always just us three, later two. Zeevo isn't… great at making friends. And, to be honest, I'm not, either. I'd like to chalk it up to how us bug-demons aren't so well-liked, but that only goes so far, you know? It's not like we have it as bad as sinners do."

    "Right. So, Zeevo, didn't hang out with anyone but you and Jake, but did he have other kinds of interactions with other inmates - or guards?"

    "Guards, no, but inmates, yeah. Zeevo has a big, big crush on Diana."

    "Who's Diana?"

    "Oh, you don't know? I thought everyone knew her. She's that spider-demoness. That one all the guys are fawning over. Light purple skin. Well, armor. Usually hangs around under the stairs in the dormitory wing with a bunch of guys. Since, you know, spiders like dark corners."

    Light purple spider-demoness. Andre recalled seeing someone fitting that description in chow hall a few times. She had been surrounded by male inmates then. And Andre remembered thinking that was for a reason. Despite the fact that a woman being half spider sounded terrifying, that lady had the figure to pull it off. As always, though, Andre knew not to stare. It was rude… and he wasn't liking the feelings the sight of her was causing him to experience.

    "Okay, got it," Andre said, bringing himself back into the present.

    "Right," Arby said. "So, Zeevo had gathered his courage and actually gone up to Diana once - when her other boy toys weren't around, I mean. Zeevo told me that she'd been into him, but I was skeptical. I mean, Zeevo's a fly. Flies rarely have luck outside their own kind. If my dad wasn't such a player, my mom wouldn't have…" He cleared his throat. "Anyway… I tried to tell Zeevo that she must have just been messing with him, but he wasn't hearing it. He was sure they had something special. In fact, he swore that he was going to be the one to woo Diana for good. Get her to settle down and stop fucking… whoring around."

    Andre gave Arby a mean look, but it seemed to be lost on him.

    "Alright," Andre then said. "So how was Zeevo was doing yesterday? Did he say anything that stuck out?"

    "Not really. Last night, I just helped him with his homework. He got a little frustrated, but that was just typical. Nothing seemed out of place."

    "Hm." Andre paused to write this down. "Okay. Anything else you can tell me about Zeevo?"

    Arby struggled to come up with more things to say, but did give some additional details about Zeevo as a person. These seemed highly irrelevant, though - Andre would not benefit from knowing that Zeevo tended to forget to flush. In fact, he would have preferred not knowing that.

    "And… I think that's everything I can think of," Arby said.

    Andre finished writing, then smiled. "Alright, thank you. I can't promise you any results, but I'll definitely let you know if I get any breaks in the case."

    "Can I come to you if I think of anything else that might be important?" Arby asked.

    "Absolutely. You can come up to me any time. My room number's 112C. I won't always be there, but, well… I'll be there some of the time."

    "Thanks," Arby said. "I… I just really hope Zeevo's okay."

    Andre sighed quietly. "I hope so too. He doesn't deserve this." Andre actually felt pretty bad now for having such a low opinion of him and Arby before, thinking they were just peripherals to Jake. They weren't - they were people. Even Jake was a person. The people that did deserve to die were much worse than them…

    Arby nodded. "Yeah, so, anyway… good luck in your investigation."

    Andre smiled. "Thanks. I'll see you around."

    "Yeah, see you around."

    With that, he left the room. Outside, he stood still for a moment.

    There was a person in this facility who had abducted or killed Jake and Zeevo. Within these walls. During the night, when they were defenseless.

    Awful. Abhorrent. Unacceptable. This person had to be brought to justice. And if the staff couldn't do that… it had to be Andre.

    A Blackwing that allowed this to happen was no Blackwing at all.

    ---​

    It actually made Andre feel a bit silly to realize that he'd probably passed by Diana a lot of times without realizing it. The library was on the second floor, so he used the stairs pretty often, and he'd used them again when going to see Arby. He descended them now and took a closer look at the inmates leaning against the wall.

    There were two that he could see from his position at the root of the stairs - one blue-skinned with glowing yellow eyes and one with a white-and-brown goat's head. Both eyed Andre with suspicion. Despite this, Andre walked closer to look under the narrower space under the stairs, and there she was.

    Diana sat on a chair that must have been nicked from the gymnasium, legs crossed, flipping through a fashion magazine. Andre studied her looks. She had six all-black eyes, and her pale violet body - or 'light purple', sure - was chitinous as well as jointed like that of a poseable doll. And just like a doll, her hair was luxurious. It was dark, almost black, and done up in an era-appropriate big hairstyle that was a little bit comical to Andre, but not enough to detract from Diana's allure - allure which was further enhanced by her full lips, long smooth legs and rather revealing clothing. What that clothing threatened to reveal was quite bountiful…

    Hey, cut that out, came a thought to interrupt Andre. It's still very rude to stare, and in case you forgot, she's a demon. You two don't mix.

    Andre blinked and looked at the male demon instead. That demon didn't look too bad himself - if you forgot the tusks - but compared to Diana, he was a weed beside a rose bush.

    "Well, well," Diana began, her voice high-pitched and accented. Andre allowed himself a glance and saw that the demoness was smiling, having set her magazine down on her lap. "Looks like a little birdie flew into my web."

    This remark made Andre briefly wonder whether Diana could actually produce silk and where it would have come from. He supposed that, while uncomfortable, at least made her less attractive enough for him to be able to properly look at her without feeling like a lecherous dog. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, hi. You're Diana, right?"

    "The one and only," Diana replied, winking all of her eyes on the right side. "And you're Slayer."

    "Just Andre is fine."

    Diana shrugged. "Well, what's up?"

    "I'm trying to look into the disappearances," Andre said. "Jake and Zeevo, you know?"

    The spider-demon huffed. "Oh, so it's like that. The birdie's a canary."

    Ugh, this was getting old. "No, it's not like that," Andre said. "I'm looking into Zeevo on Arby's behalf. You know, his brother?"

    "If that's the case, I don't know how you managed to slay that ghoul with a brain that small. Arby's clearly in on it."

    "You think so?"

    "Obviously," Diana said. "Jake, Arby and Zeevo. Those three guys were always together. Two of them escape. The third one's sure to follow."

    She was wrong about the escaping part, but Andre had to hope her last statement was as well. Like Zeevo, Arby seemed like a good guy if you just forgot about the bully-lackey part. And that 'whoring around' comment.

    "Hm, I don't know," Andre said. "He seemed pretty genuine when talking to me."

    "You're just too trusting," Diana said, waving a hand. "Do they even let you lie in Heaven?"

    "I did get kicked out," Andre muttered.

    At that, Diana smiled again. "True. I guess you were a bad little birdie, huh?"

    "A regular shrike."

    "Huh?"

    "Well, a shrike is a type of bird that…" Andre shook his head. "Never mind. Can I ask you some questions about Zeevo or not?"

    Diana leaned back in her chair, sizing up Andre. "Alright," she finally said. "Just 'cause you're so pretty."

    Andre could notice the other suitors glaring at him. He hoped that wouldn't lead to trouble. "Um, thanks." He cleared his throat again. "So, I heard that Zeevo was into you. Could you tell me more about that?"

    "Oh, he was into me, big time. He was like a puppy with those big eyes and how excited he got whenever I looked at him. Winked at him once, and I thought he was gonna faint. A few days after that, he got brave enough to actually talk to me. I thought it was the most precious thing, so I humored him. Said he was cute and complimented him."

    Andre raised a brow. "But you didn't actually return his feelings."

    Diana laughed. "Good god, no. Who'd want to go and kiss a fly? Who knows where that… trunk-thing has been."

    "Proboscis?"

    "Alright, Mr Scientist."

    Andre supposed that education in Hell was less comprehensive than what Heaven had… or that Diana simply hadn't been the most diligent of students.

    "Well, whatever," Diana said. She paused, pursing her lips, then sighed lightly. "I don't know if there's a lot more to say."

    "Did you see Zeevo yesterday?"

    "Just in chow hall," Diana said. "Didn't talk to him. Was busy with my other sweethearts." She petted the hair of the tusked demon, who grinned like a schoolboy. The other two demons frowned.

    "Hm." Andre paused to write down what Diana had said. "Did he seem… different in any way?"

    "Different how?"

    "Well, just… anything out of the ordinary."

    Diana shook her head. "Nah. Just sat with that locust brother of his as always, making goo-goo eyes at me each now and then."

    Andre nodded. "Alright. What of your other… sweethearts?" He looked at the others. "What did you think of Zeevo?"

    Andre met a lot of hums and shrugs. "Just kind of an ugly weirdo," the goat-headed demon finally said, and the others nodded. "He was no threat, if that's what you're asking."

    "Uh-huh. Thanks," Andre said, writing down more notes.

    "There's more," Diana said, playing with a lock of hair.

    "More of what?" Andre asked.

    "There are more people in my circle," she said. "If you wanna be thorough, you're gonna have to ask all of them."

    "Ah." Andre spun his hand. "Can you name all of them, or…"

    Diana paused, then crossed her arms. "You know, I'm telling you an awful lot without getting anything in return."

    Andre glanced elsewhere. "Well, what are you proposing?"

    Diana leaned forward seductively. "I've never been with an angel, you know…"

    Andre's eyes widened. Then he looked around. The other young men didn't seem like fans of that idea, either.

    Or, well, that's what he would have liked to think, but he knew that part of him did want to…

    No, no, no, Andre thought. Bad. Hazardous. Don't.

    He cleared his throat. "I'm not so sure your other 'sweethearts' would like that."

    "Oh, they won't do anything I don't tell them to do," Diana said dismissively. "You'll be fine."

    "Thanks, but I'd, uhh, rather not."

    Diana raised a brow. "What, are you gay?"

    "No, it's just that I… have someone back in Heaven," Andre lied.

    "Well, from what I've heard, you're not going back."

    "We're, um, trying to make the long-distance relationship work. I would prefer it if you respected that."

    Diana huffed. "Whatever."

    Andre sensed it was time for him to leave, but before he could, a smirk rose to Diana's lips.

    "Hey, tell you what," she said. "I'll give you one name, as a parting gift. How about that?"

    "Sure, that sounds good. What's the name?"

    "Dmitri," Diana said.

    The blue-skinned demon snickered, but got smacked on the arm into submission by the goat-headed demon.

    "Alright," the angel said. "What does this Dmitri look like? Do you know where I could find him?"

    "He's a horse-demon," Diana explained. "Tall, big white guy. Long black hair. Black horse ears and black horse legs. Tatted. Can't mistake him. As for where he is, the gym's a safe bet."

    Andre wrote down this information, then nodded. "Got it. Thanks for your time."

    He turned around and began to head off.

    "Hey, Slayer!" Diana shouted, getting Andre to look back over his shoulder. "Offer's still open, if you ever wanna know some secrets. Like where my web comes from!" With that, she giggled.

    And with that, Andre walked away a little faster.

    ---​

    Andre couldn't remember where the gym was. He gave finding it by himself a shot, but had no luck. Luckily, just as he was considering asking someone for help, a familiar angel called out to him.

    "Andre, hey!" Samson shouted, getting Andre to turn around. "Long time no see, eh?"

    Andre chuckled. It had only been a few hours. "Indeed."

    "How'd your visit to the infirmary go?" Samson asked, walking up to his supervisee. "Red holding up alright?"

    "Yeah, he's alright," Andre said. "Hey, could you tell me how to get to the gym?"

    "Oh, going to pump some iron?" Samson asked, flexing his bicep. Andre actually paused for a moment, taken by surprise how big the thing was.

    "Oh, no, that's not quite for me," Andre said. "More of a yoga guy." Man, he'd really forgotten all about that once he'd been banished here… "What I'm doing is a survey." He quickly scribbled something down, then showed it to Samson. "See?"

    Samson read the writing. It said 'pursuing a lead on the Zeevo case' in Cherubian.

    "I see!" Samson said, smiling. "Well, I hope you get the data you seek. Gym's on the first floor, in the E wing. Room number 104E. There's a map on the bulletin board in chow hall."

    "Oh, right, that's true," Andre said as he realized it. "Passed that thing by so many times and it just didn't register." He shook his head. "Well, thanks!"

    "No problem!" Samson replied. "Good luck with the survey! But hey - don't work too hard. It's Sunday, after all."

    "I'll keep that in mind. See you around."

    "Right back atcha!"

    With a wave, Andre left. He made his way to chow hall to see this famous map, memorized what he needed to and continued on to the gym. The door was open, and peeking in, the place seemed to be in active use. Andre looked for a man matching the description of Dmitri and found one nearby doing bench presses - big white guy, long black hair, horse features, tattoos.

    He certainly was big - the biggest guy in the room, and that included the guard. His musculature, revealed by his lack of a shirt, was bordering on monstrous, and he looked mean. Andre now knew why Diana giving him Dmitri's name was so funny to that one demon. Would it… would it actually be smart to go up to him to ask questions? He looked like he could crumple Andre like a piece of newspaper. There was a guard, but he was all the way on the other side of the room. A lot of carnage could happen before he was able to stop it…

    Maybe Andre could just tell Mr Ronove to have the staff look into Dmitri. That seemed like the safer option.

    He was about to turn around when one part of him spoke up against it.

    What, is that it? it asked. You're afraid of getting your hands dirty, so you're making the staff do it instead? Do you really think Dmitri is going to give them anything?

    It's not safe,
    Andre argued back. I'll get hurt. And what makes you think that Dmitri is going to tell me anything?

    Excuses, excuses. Aren't you supposed to be a Blackwing?


    Andre frowned. It had played that card.

    Sworn to protect and avenge, it continued. What would Zeevo think about you cozying up in your comfort zone while he's being kept somewhere against his will or already losing his identity in Terminus? 'That's alright, I wouldn't want to be a bother to dear Andre with the horrid crimes committed against me'?

    Okay, fine,
    Andre thought. But I'm not just going to jump in front of Dmitri and start interrogating. I'll ask around first.

    I suppose that's acceptable.


    Andre huffed. He supposed it was smarter not to ask questions about Dmitri from the others at the gym lest the big guy overhear, so he headed back where he'd come from - chow hall.

    ---​

    Chow hall always had people in it. Andre had noticed that many inmates liked to hang around near the open space even if they couldn't sit on the chairs. There was one group of people right now - and Andre could recognize some of them as demons he'd spoken to before, when inmates were coming to him to ask about his slaying of the ossigula. They noticed him and gave him a wave. Andre smiled back and walked up to them.

    "Ey, what's up, Slayer?" asked one of them, a white cyclops. Literally white, white as snow.

    "Doing good, thanks," Andre said. "Say, can I ask a few questions? The kid whose brother went missing wanted me to look into it for him."

    "Sounds alright to me," the cyclops answered, and the others hummed and nodded. "But I thought the guy just escaped?"

    "Yeah, one would think, but Arby disagreed, and I needed something to do this weekend, so…"

    "Alright, then. Ask away."

    "Okay." Andre took his notebook from underneath his arm. "What do you all know about the inmate named Dmitri?"

    The demons' eyes widened and the cyclops fell silent. It was as if Andre had said something about Hell back in Heaven.

    "...We don't know anything," another demon then said.

    Andre frowned, but then gave an encouraging smile. "It's alright, he's not gonna know."

    "No, we really don't know anything," the cyclops said with a nervous laugh. "Can't tell you what we don't know, you know?"

    "Hm." Andre paused to think. "Well, that's a shame, then. Thanks for answering, anyway."

    "Yeah, man, have a good one," the cyclops said. As Andre left, the angel could hear him say something like 'that guy's gonna die'.

    Well, at least they said it somberly.

    Andre was met with similar reactions from everyone else he talked to. After the second conversation, he began to worry that he really was signing his death warrant by throwing Dmitri's name around. He considered giving up, but that voice from before came back, taunting him about how far he'd fallen from his Blackwing days, and he was forced to continue. After the fifth conversation, though, he couldn't imagine making any further progress going forward. There was only one thing left to do. Well, that or making the questioning of Dmitri the problem of the staff, but the Blackwing voice just wouldn't relent.

    Andre, then, dragged himself back to the gym. He clung to the hope of Dmitri already having left, but no - the demon was still there. Still on the bench, too. Had he been doing presses this entire time? Just how strong was he?

    Hey. No excuses. Only actions.

    Andre swallowed and took stiff steps forwards towards Dmitri until he was close enough to speak - but he didn't. His attention was stolen by the various tattoos on the demon's body and how they all seemed to involve some kind of act of violence against… flies.

    'KILL EM', read the text of one that bisected a fly with a knife. 'EAT SHIT BUZZERS', read another, situated underneath an image of a squashed fly with a hoofprint over it. 'ONLY GOOD FLY IS A DEAD FLY', read a third, mercifully without an image. Or was it supposed to be connected to that drawing of a fly torn limb from limb?

    In any case… I think this guy fucking killed Zeevo.

    Dmitri grunted. He set down the barbell and sat up, staring at Andre with mad eyes.

    Oh. Uh. Fuck.

    "Leave," Dmitri said, his voice deep and loud.

    Andre wanted to. Andre almost did. But the only thing stronger than Dmitri in this room was an angel's sense of duty.

    Andre cleared his throat and composed himself. "I will, soon enough," he said. "I just need to ask you a few… ques…"

    Dmitri had gotten up. He was two entire heads taller than Andre.

    "...tions… about… Zeevo?" Andre got out, not knowing how exactly he managed it.

    Regardless, he shouldn't have.

    A giant hand grabbed Andre by the throat, squeezing so tightly that Andre feared for his windpipe. Andre dropped his pen and notebook to claw at the hand, but Dmitri's grip was unrelenting, and his glare was full of hatred.

    Help! Andre tried to shout, but nothing would pass through his throat but a wheeze. Nowhere near the amount of volume needed to reach the guard across the room, who seemed to be distracted by telling off someone else.

    Andre's bulging eyes moved on to the other inmates in the gym, who actually had noticed what was happening. Their faces spanned from alarmed to uncomfortable to indifferent, and they exchanged glances, but no one dared to speak up. No one wanted to be the next one with Dmitri's hand around their throat.

    Andre's instincts screamed at him louder and louder to breathe, breathe, breathe, but there was no air flow beyond the tiniest, most pathetic amount. His heart pounded, trying its best to pump fresh blood into his brain, but Dmitri's grip obstructed even that. Darkness dotted with stars began to encircle his vision –

    "Hey!" shouted the guard - he'd finally noticed. "Let him go, now!"

    Andre watched as the guard ran towards them, feeling like he was watching slow motion footage, until the guard jammed a stun gun under Dmitri's arm. The horse-demon let go with a loud grunt, freeing Andre's throat and causing him to alternate between gasping for air and coughing out droplets of spit that he kept pulling down into his windpipe. As soon as he could think actual thoughts, he stumbled away, away from that monster. He could hear what the guard was shouting at Dmitri…

    "...doesn't fly here, Volkov! Do you understand?"

    Andre heard an affirmative grunt.

    "That's better," the guard said. Then he stepped towards Andre. "Are you alright?"

    Andre swallowed. He'd managed to reach some kind of balance in his breathing again. "Uh…"

    "Someone!" the guard yelled back towards the others, then pointed at the closest onlooker. "You, you there! Escort this inmate to the infirmary."

    "M-me?" the demon, resembling a thorny lizard, asked.

    "Yeah, you! Get on with it!"

    The reptilian got up and hurried to Andre. Andre flinched, but it didn't seem like the demon was going to touch him with his spiny hands. "Let's, uh, go," he said, and Andre nodded.

    On the way to the infirmary, Andre could actually process what had happened.

    I've never been hurt like that before, he thought. Never in my life. And I never want to be hurt like that again.

    Really?


    Andre clenched his jaw. Not this guy again. Yes. I don't care how important it is. You can't obligate anyone to go through something like that.

    Oh, boo hoo. You got roughed up a little. Need I remind you that Zeevo might be dead? Dead-dead, soul-dead?

    Well, they don't fucking choke you in Terminus!


    Andre felt bad for thinking that right away. Being dead was not good. He shouldn't belittle it.

    What I mean is, he continued, people's duties have to end somewhere. You can't set yourself on fire to keep someone warm, right?

    Sounds like something a shirker would say.

    Oh, piss off.

    You piss off.


    Andre didn't care to continue the argument.

    Once the demon had escorted Andre to the infirmary - which he needed some help with, since he wasn't sure where it was - he left with an awkward 'take care'. The doctor arrived soon after Andre had entered the waiting area, gave Andre a quick examination and told him there were no major issues. Andre thanked him and briefly considered saying hi to Red while he was there, but decided that he didn't want to tell Red about how he'd gone up to a violent maniac and bothered him against all common sense.

    Had he even gained anything from it?

    Well… he'd seen Dmitri's tattoos. He'd experienced firsthand what an awful temper the demon had. Wasn't that useful? Wasn't that at least something to go to Mr Ronove with?

    He supposed it was. Which also made that other part of him have a point. He sighed.

    He then figured he should write these notes down.

    He then figured that he'd dropped his pen and notebook at the gym.

    He then figured that he'd have to go back for them.

    He sighed again.

    ---​

    Andre entered the library. "Hey," he greeted the librarian, unenthusiastic.

    "Hey!" the librarian replied. "Place is empty. We can talk freely."

    "Good." Andre stepped up to the desk. "Any new messages for me?"

    "Let's see…" The librarian typed on the computer. "No, doesn't look like it."

    "Alright, well, I have a message of my own to send."

    "Understood. Just a moment…" She typed some more. "Okay, let me hear it."

    Andre sighed, then began reading out what he'd written down in his notebook. The notebook he'd embarrassingly had to go back and get from the gym after he'd dropped it. At least no one had touched it or thrown it away…

    Regardless, Andre explained to the librarian how he'd talked to Arby and what Arby had said as well as how he'd had talked to Diana and what she had said - including the offer of information in exchange for sex. Andre really hoped Mr Ronove wouldn't force him to sleep with Diana as part of his informant's duties. He then added everything about Dmitri, focusing on the tattoos and the assault at the gym, and requested the staff to look into the demon. He ended the message there, and the librarian sent it. Andre then hung around for a few minutes in the library, browsing the books he was sure he could handle until a message came back from Mr Ronove.

    Thank you for your report, Mr Duval. The staff, in fact, has been looking into Mr Volkov already. He is known to be prone to violence, and security footage of Mr Volkov has shown him display expressions and behaviors indicative of irritation and even anger whenever he noticed or paid attention to Mr Balson. I have also worked in corrections long enough to know that there is truth to the claims of pteronarcophobia in horse-demons - that is, hatred of or aversion to flies and demons with fly-like features.

    However, hearing that you have been on the receiving end of Mr Volkov's violence worries me - not only because of your health, but because of what this says about your approaches to the task of gathering information. You should have been able to know just by looking at Mr Volkov that provoking him could prove dangerous.


    "Great," Andre muttered as he read. "Salt in the wounds."

    Partly due to this and partly due to general concerns of suspicion arising among the inmates, I must order you to cease your investigations for the time being. We will likely have use of your services again in the future, but for now, focus on lying low. I hope this is agreeable as it is also non-negotiable.

    Best of luck,
    Gideon Ronove


    Andre sighed heavily, lowering his head. "Awesome. Just as I promised Arby I'd do my best to look into it…"

    The librarian hummed. "Being an informant is like that sometimes. You have to lie and break promises."

    Andre supposed he knew what that was like. He'd had to lie a lot during his time as a Blackwing. Just not quite about anything like this.

    He stood up straight. "Well, tell Mr Ronove that I've acknowledged the message and intend to follow his orders. I'll head out and… do nothing, I guess."

    The librarian nodded with a smile. "Will do. See you around, Andre."

    "And see you around, uh…" Andre was sure the librarian's name had been given to him, but he was drawing a blank.

    "Irma," the librarian filled in. "Or Mrs Krastaca, if other people are around."

    "Irma Krastaca," Andre said, writing it down. "Thanks."

    "No problem."

    With that, Andre left the library. He managed to take a few steps before his thoughts began pestering him again.

    'Cease your investigations'? Not a chance. You have to keep going, Ronove be damned.

    No,
    Andre thought. Orders are orders. Did you forget that I have to follow them or they'll send me to a real prison?

    They can't do that if they don't find out.

    They have security cameras and guards everywhere.

    Yet they still can't find who took Jake and Zeevo.


    Andre shook his head, trying to banish the thoughts.

    No, you're not getting rid of me that easily. You still have more to feel guilty about. Don't you realize that you could have provided a lot more information to the investigation before you were told to stop if you'd slept with Diana?

    Andre's face began to heat up, and his heart sank.

    Where was your 'sense of duty' back then, huh?

    I can't start selling my body for information
    , Andre thought. You're doing that thing again. You're asking me to self-sacrifice far beyond what's reasonable.

    You've had sex countless times. You know how to do it. You might even be good enough at it to get something more out of her. And I don't just mean --

    I'm not having sex with Diana and that's final. Now, shut the fuck up and let me just follow my orders.

    'Just following orders', huh? Are you hearing yourself?


    Andre groaned to himself. He had to go do something to drown this guy out. But what would that be? What did he normally do on Sundays? Paint? Well, couldn't do that here, but he could draw. Only Andre didn't feel like it. Maybe he'd read more of that book he had. It had turned out a bit lacking, but he still wanted to know how the mystery would be resolved.

    Forcing himself to think about that story and its details, Andre made his way to his room. He didn't come out for the rest of the day except for bare necessities.

    ---​

    "How's the investigation going?"

    "Huh?" Andre looked up from his breakfast oatmeal. He'd just sat down moments ago.

    Alice smirked. "Come on. Word travels fast. We know you're looking into Zeevo."

    Andre eyed Alice and Camila, then sighed. "Yeah, I am. Just wanted to help Arby out." Wanted to. Couldn't anymore.

    "I think that's nice of you," Alice said, "but… it seems like it got you in some trouble."

    The memory of the pain on his neck got Andre put his hand on it. "Yeah, you could say that."

    "Some guys were saying that you just walked up to him when he was benching and started bothering him," Camila said. "What were you thinking, dude?"

    "I didn't think he was going to fucking attack me, alright?" Andre snapped. Camila frowned and opened her mouth to react to his outburst, but Andre sighed and raised up a hand. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped."

    "God, now I sort of think even less of you," Camila mumbled. "Stick to your guns, man."

    Andre groaned quietly. No winning with this one.

    Alice opened her mouth to say something in turn, but closed it as her eyes met something behind Andre. Andre turned around to see what it was.

    "...Hi," said a familiar locust-demon, grasping tight onto his tray. "Can I sit with you?"

    Andre glanced at the demonesses, who mumbled affirmatives.

    "Thanks," Arby said and took a seat beside Andre. "So… did you really try to talk to that scary guy to find out more about Zeevo?"

    Awesome. The whole prison knew. "Yeah," Andre sighed. "Didn't go so well."

    Arby gave a cautious mouthpart-smile. "Thanks, man. I can tell you're really serious about helping us."

    "I am," Andre said, poking at his oatmeal with a spoon. "I just, uh, don't know if I can get much further. I've sort of exhausted my leads. The leads I can follow without getting pummeled, anyway."

    Arby sighed. "Yeah… I hope something comes your way, though. Or my way."

    "Or… our way," Alice added.

    "What do you mean?" Camila asked.

    "Well, think about it," Alice said, turning to Camila. "Worst case scenario, there's a killer on the loose. We can't just sit around and wait for them to pick us off." She lightly pushed her girlfriend. "Besides, it'll be fun! Kinda like those Grace Andie books. Didn't you read those growing up?"

    "I was trying not to die growing up," Camila muttered, "but, yeah, I guess you have a point." She looked at Andre. "Where should we begin?"

    Andre glanced between the two demonesses. "Uh…" Could he let them look into this in his stead? Mr Ronove had told him to cease his investigations, but he hadn't said anything about anyone else. "Yeah, you know, why not. Why don't you start with… that Diana girl. I have a feeling she knows more than she was willing to say to me." He did not want to tell them about the sex offer, for both his sake and Diana's, but he also supposed Diana might let them know about it anyway. "Do you know her?"

    Alice rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't I know her."

    "What do you mean?"

    "Well, you know how I talked about a 'source' some days ago, and you wanted to know who they were? It was Diana."

    Ah. That was an avenue of information that Andre hadn't even remembered existed. "I see." He paused. "Why are you okay with telling me her identity now, though?"

    "Found out she was badmouthing Camila and me behind our backs, calling us dykes and whatnot," Alice replied. "But there's also, you know, the whole other thing. You see, we knew each other since before we ended up here, through a mutual male friend at the university. They had an open relationship - which I was a fan of, you know, breaking norms. I saw that she was continuing to have multiple companions here, and that seemed great, but…"

    "But?"

    Alice sighed. "The more I've seen her interact with these guys, the more it seems that this really isn't an all-around consensual polyamorous network but rather her toying with these guys' feelings, telling each of them that she's going to be with them alone if they just manage to prove her loyalty to her well enough. Not healthy. So yeah, all in all, fuck her privacy."

    Yeah, that sounded pretty rotten.

    "I never liked her much myself," Arby said. "Playing Zeevo like that… it's just shitty."

    "Yeah." Alice looked back to Andre. "But I think I still have a kind of relationship with her that might let me gain some new information. I'll go see her after classes today. Camila, uh, you might need to stay back. She was never really a fan of you."

    "Feeling goes both ways," Camila huffed.

    "Sounds good to me," Andre said. "Though… be careful, alright? I already got my throat crushed once for asking questions. Not to mention all the accusations of snitchery. I don't want you two to have to deal with shit like that." And he also didn't want word traveling that Andre's investigation was still on through proxies. Mr Ronove wouldn't like that.

    "Well, to be frank, we're already catching the snitch rep by sitting with you," Alice said, "but yeah, understood. Anything else we should know?"

    "Just look into Diana and, if you can do it subtly, ask around about Zeevo. Jake as well. Their disappearances might be connected."

    "Gotcha," Alice said. "We'll report back with whatever we find out."

    "Thanks," Andre said.

    "Oh, can I keep sitting with you so I can hear it, too?" Arby asked.

    "Fine with me," Alice said. "You know, you're nowhere near as abrasive when you're away from Jake. No offense."

    Arby chuckled sheepishly. "Yeah… I've heard something similar in the past."

    There was a brief silence before Camila spoke up again.

    "We'd better eat now," she said. "Our food's getting cold."

    "Mm, yeah," Andre said and began eating his lukewarm oatmeal. The others quieted as well. But Andre's thoughts didn't stay quiet for long.

    Getting others to do your dirty work for you again, huh?

    Andre sighed. This voice really didn't know when to shut up.

    ---​
     
    Last edited:
    Chapter Six - Feather Trail New
  • canisaries

    you should've known the price of evil
    Premium
    Location
    Stovokor
    Pronouns
    she/her
    Partners
    1. inkay-shirlee
    2. houndoom-elliot
    3. yamask-joanna
    4. shuppet
    5. deerling-andre
    6. omanyte
    7. hizzap
    Oops, uh, this took a while. Well, to be fair, I did need to write for The Bringer and my contest oneshot as well, and I got stuck with some doubts about this chapter for a bit, too. But @NebulaDreams , my beta in shining armor, helped me through! Big thanks to him.

    This chapter has content warnings for mentions of STIs, misogyny (including slurs), internalized homophobia (including a slur) and some violence. Enjoy!

    ---

    CHAPTER SIX
    Feather Trail


    ---​

    After breakfast, the morning passed slowly. Three lessons followed, those being health education, history and science. Health education was quite nasty with descriptions and visual aids of different kinds of infectious diseases, including sexually transmitted ones. Andre did subtly appreciate it, however, as it did a good job of making intimate relations with demons seem less appealing. If he found himself with lustful thoughts, the mental image of what was colloquially called 'dickrot' was sure to set him straight.

    In history, Andre was taught more about the Seven Devil Kings. The gist remained the same from what Samson had taught him a week ago on the hike, but Andre was informed of more specifics, such as the names of the Kings and their appearances. It seemed like every king had features of a different animal species. As the teacher also said these would be on the test, Andre began working hard to remember each one.

    Superbio the Prideful - a lion-demon. Avaritio the Rapacious - a dragon-demon. Iro the Furious - a bull-demon. Luxurio the Lecherous - a hare-demon. Invidio the Covetous, Gulo the Voracious, Acedio the Apathetic. And then there were their generals, their advisors, their priests, whatever, whatever. Andre was sure he would have loved to learn all about this at his own pace, but Hell apparently had a lot of history to get through.

    In science, there wasn't anything special. The lesson was just about the physical properties of heat. It could have been a lesson on Earth, really.

    After lunch and a few more lessons, it was time for dinner. Andre got in line as he usually did, stuck in thought, trying to recap what he'd learned from that history lesson, when he felt something nudge his arm. He turned around to see… Red, looking healthy as a horse in his signature leather jacket.

    "Hey," the demon greeted.

    "Oh, hey," Andre replied, smiling. "Didn't think you'd be out of the infirmary so soon."

    "Yeah, well, I'm still not allowed to take part in PE or do anything else that might strain my body. But otherwise, yeah, it looks like I'm healthy enough to walk around."

    "Good to hear."

    Red nodded, then quieted. Andre figured he was done with him and moved with the line. A few steps later, though, Red cleared his throat again.

    "Can I, uhh…" he started, avoiding eye contact. "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

    He wanted to sit together? Well, that was progress. "Not at all," Andre said. "Or, well… I don't mind, but I do sit with Alice and Camila. Maybe Arby, too. But I'm sure they'll be fine with it."

    Honestly, Andre wasn't terribly sure. Alice and Camila really hadn't appreciated Red's attitude towards Andre in the first days. And Arby… well, would Red want to sit with him?

    "Mm." Red paused. "Sounds good." It didn't sound like he meant it, but… he wasn't refusing.

    They passed through the line and gained a helping of lukewarm spaghetti alongside some bread, though Red also surprised Andre by asking for a serving of salad. The food service worker asked him what he needed it for when hound-demons like him could subsist just fine on the meals they provided by default, and he said he simply liked the taste. Andre - who was quite upset that he hadn't been told this was an option - then cleared his throat and said that he would like some salad as well and that he really needed it since he was an angel. The worker then rolled his eyes and provided them both with some greens from the kitchen. Well, yellows and reds. Hell's plants didn't really do green.

    The two then made their way to Alice, Camila and Arby. The former two eyed Red with suspicion while Arby tried to avoid eye contact.

    "Hey," Andre said. "Is it okay if Red sits with us?"

    The three demons exchanged glances before Alice spoke up. "Well, if it's fine with you, it should be fine with us." There was caution in her voice, though.

    "Thanks," Red said, not especially warmly. Andre sat down, and Red sat next to him. Their sitting order had Alice and Camila on one side and Arby, Andre and Red on the other. At least Andre worked as a buffer between the two.

    "So, uh," Camila began. "You two cool with each other now?"

    "Well… I think so," Andre said, looking to Red, though the demon seemed to be focusing on his food. "I mean, we ought to be. We're pairs."

    "Andre did also save Red's life," Alice added.

    "You thank him yet?" Camila asked Red.

    Red answered with an annoyed look, then a flatly spoken word. "Yes."

    Andre let out an awkward laugh. Boy, this was getting uncomfortable. "Yes, Red did thank me. But, well, anyone would have done what I did if put in my position, right?"

    The demonesses and Arby exchanged more glances.

    "Yep," Alice said with a forced smile.

    Silence fell over the group. Andre took a quiet breath in before speaking again. "So, any progress on your investigation?"

    "Mm, not much," Alice said. "Diana has a lot of suitors to sift through. And not all of them are as willing to talk to girls they know they can't have. Or, in my case, don't want…"

    "Aw, Lis, don't say that," Camila swooped in, setting down her fork. "You're super cute. If there's anyone they don't want, it's me. And I'm real fine with that."

    "Hm, well, I suppose people were more willing to talk to me because of the whole Slayer thing," Andre said. "Though I don't know if asking around about Mr Horsepower lost me that edge already." Then again, it didn't matter. Mr Ronove no longer wanted him to snoop around regarding the disappearances, so he wouldn't. Even when Zeevo's killer might have been right there in front of them…

    Arby sighed. "I just hope you three can find something out. I asked the staff if they've made any progress and they still told me they had nothing new to report."

    Andre wasn't surprised. The staff probably didn't want any leaks from the investigation.

    Alice turned to Red and opened her mouth to say something, but then frowned. Andre looked at Red to see what warranted such a reaction, and saw him… shoving his salad into a zip lock bag.

    "...What are you doing?" Alice asked.

    Red lifted his gaze and froze. Everyone in the group was looking at him. His ears drew back. "It's… for later," he said.

    The others held their stare.

    Red cleared his throat, then looked past the group, searching for something. He seemed to find it and then spoke again. "You guys notice how Eric is actually sitting with people now?"

    His diversion worked. The group followed Red's gaze to the young angel and, indeed, he sat with two demons, talking to them. Both were reptilian - one was spindly with blue and black stripes and had a long, pointed snout while the other, mottled with black and red, was huge and heavy with much blunter features. Both were nodding along as the angel spoke.

    "Oh, what do you know," Camila said. "I guess that little bigot got over himself. To an extent, anyway. He's still not talking to me."

    "I wonder what they're talking about," Alice said. "If I didn't already have something to investigate, I'd find out."

    Andre no longer had that problem. Maybe he could be the one to do it? Or… Mr Ronove probably didn't want him doing any snooping because of its optics. Well, whatever.

    The conversation then shifted to what they'd been learning in class recently, and Andre gladly participated. Every now and then, he looked to Red for whether he'd have any input, but the hound-demon stayed silent. Eventually, he excused himself and left. Andre was left wondering if he should have tried to involve him in the conversation more, but maybe there was nothing wrong. Red could have spoken up if he'd felt like it, right?

    After dinner, Andre stopped by his room to perhaps have a talk with Red, but he wasn't there. As Andre had nothing else he was dying to do, he began looking for the demon through the halls of the facility. Five minutes in, he spotted Suki, and the cat-eared demoness spotted him, smiling. He decided he might as well have a talk.

    "Hey," he greeted, stepping up to Suki. "Haven't seen you in a while."

    "Yeah, uh, sorry about that."

    "No need to apologize," Andre said with a little laugh. "How's it been going, though?"

    "Been writing. I really have a great streak going on right now. You wanna hear about it?"

    As Suki's gushing always reminded Andre of Katie at home, he welcomed it. There had been pain at first, remembering how Andre's friendship with Katie had ended, but it had waned, leaving only precious nostalgia. "Sure!"

    Suki went on to describe her new story and some new characters and creatures she'd thought up for it. Like a dragonfly with the tail and claws of a scorpion. Or a hairless, blind cave monkey. Or a two-headed thunderbird whose beaks had opposite charges and could create an arc of electricity between them. Suki's creativity seemed boundless - much stronger than Andre's, even when he considered himself a creative person, being an artist and all. He felt a hint of envy, but scolded himself for it. Envy was a sin, after all.

    "And then there are these fish that can --"

    Suki quieted as she noticed a group of three entering the hallway. It was Eric with those two demon friends of his. They were talking about something before abruptly stopping. They made their way past Andre and Suki without speaking, only giving the two suspicious glances. And then they rounded the corner and started speaking again.

    "That was weird," Andre remarked.

    "Yeah," Suki said. "Eric's supposed to hate demons, right?" She narrowed her eyes. "What do you suppose he's up to?"

    So Andre and Alice weren't the only ones curious about that. Regardless, Andre shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe we'll find out at some point."

    "Or…" Suki grinned mischievously. "We could find out now."

    Andre flinched. "What? Like, confront them?" That wouldn't be good if he was supposed to keep a low profile.

    "It doesn't have to come to that," Suki said. "We can just eavesdrop. My hearing's really good, you know." She twitched her cat ears.

    "Uh, I don't know…"

    "Come on!" Suki whisper-yelled, and just like that, she was on her way.

    Shit! thought Andre. Well, then again… if I can say afterwards that she just roped me into it, maybe it'll be fine…

    He slunk after Suki and soon caught up. The two of them kept tailing Eric's group, staying out of sight and keeping quiet - well, Suki was doing a much better job due to her soft paws than Andre with his shoes, but anyway - until the group entered someone's dorm room. Must have belonged to one or two of them. They closed the door behind them, but their speech was still audible if one strained their hearing enough. Suki and Andre got as close to the door as they could and listened.

    "...like this one time at the grocery store, you know, when I saw this major hottie trying to reach something on the top shelf. I went over and took it and then said - just as a joke, you know - 'you can have it for a kiss'. Like Ricky Asmodeus, you know. But she just went 'ew' and left. 'Ew'! Like I was a pile of houndshit, you know! That shit hurts, man!"

    It wasn't Eric's voice, and it didn't seem like it belonged to the heavier reptilian. Must have been the thin one.

    "I know, Viathan. No man wants to be treated like that," said Eric. "See, Hemoth? That's what I was talking about with 'indecent'."

    "Like, you know, I would have preferred it if she'd spat acid in my face over that," Viathan added.

    "Hmm… well, I guess…" Hemoth said. "I'm sorry that happened to you, Viathan."

    "Thanks, man."

    Hemoth sighed. "I wish I was as brave as you…" he continued. "When I see a girl, I just freeze up. Like I'm worried she's gonna see me and laugh in my face. I mean, look at me."

    "Really?" Eric said. "All I see is a big, strong man."

    "Well, I'm big, and I'm strong, yeah - but every helodermid is."

    "You're the only helodermid in this program. That might make you the strongest guy here."

    "Even stronger than… the horse guy?"

    "Yeah! You're as tall as he is, and you're heavier. You've got the advantage."

    "But he's… I don't know. He's confident. I'm not. And I'm certainly not a fighter."

    "Oh, but you're a demon, aren't you? From what I've heard, every demon, deep down, knows how to get violent. You were made that way."

    Andre had to wonder what exactly Eric was trying to pull. A replacionist like him would believe that demons were created by Tarigan, an evil shapeshifting she-demon that opposed Arukei - the real homophobic and misogynist Arukei - and was, in fact, behind the Replacement that had occurred 2000 years ago. As Tarigan was evil, so were her creations, and they could not be reasoned with. Yet here Eric was, clearly reasoning with one. And he seemed to be at peace with that. Was it really possible for someone to change their fundamental beliefs so quickly?

    "I… guess so," Hemoth said. "Reptilians like me do have instincts. Like, when I see a bug, I think 'that's a juicy looking bug'. But I can't eat it, you know, since I don't know where it's been. And reptilian immune systems aren't as tough as real wild animals'."

    "Yes… it may be better that you don't eat the bugs you see," Eric said. "I don't think the girls would like that."

    "Yeah…"

    "Back to my point. You have what it takes to be an alpha, Hemoth. You just have to find the confidence."

    "A what?"

    "You know, an alpha. It means someone who's strong and dominant, unlike a beta, who's weak and submissive."

    Andre sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead. This bullshit.

    "Oh, I see," Hemoth said. "Do you think… do you think Suki would like that?"

    Suki's eyes widened, and her ears pinned back.

    "Of course! Every woman wants an alpha, no matter what they say. It's basic biology."

    "But… I'm not some jock. I'm a nerd. I've touched computers more than I've touched girls. Infinite times more. Or undefined, take your pick…"

    Computers…? So he was a tech guy? He wouldn't know how to tamper with security cameras, would he? Then again, he really didn't seem like someone who'd dare to make anyone disappear…

    But he could also be working with someone else. Eric? How long had they known each other? Damn it, Andre should have paid closer attention to him… maybe this was something to ask the staff for once - if - they called him back as an informant? Ugh, Andre didn't have his notebook right now to write this down in…

    Eric replied with something, but Andre's attention was stolen by the sound of approaching steps. He heard these too late, though, as the new arrival - Samson - had already rounded the corner and noticed them.

    Andre stood up straight. "Samson," he said. "Hello."

    Suki's tail bristled and she turned to face Samson. "H-hello!"

    "Uh, hello to you, too…" Samson replied. "What are you doing?"

    "Just, um…" No, Andre couldn't think of anything. Neither could Suki, it seemed.

    Samson frowned, crossing his arms. "Everyone deserves privacy," he said. "You should honor that." His gaze was stern at Suki, but a bit conflicted at Andre.

    "We will. We're sorry," Andre said. "It won't happen again."

    "See that it doesn't," Samson said. "Or it might end up affecting your record."

    The record… God, Andre had really forgotten about that ever since Red had stayed out of trouble on account of being too sick to start shit. He nodded. "Understood."

    "Good." Samson smiled. "Run along, now."

    Andre turned to Suki. "Let's go."

    Suki nodded, and the two went on their way. Once they'd gotten far enough from Samson, Suki sighed.

    "Do you think they heard us?" she asked.

    "Probably," Andre said. "But… well, it's not like we liked them. It doesn't matter much if they have a low opinion of us, right?"

    "I guess so."

    A pause.

    "I just can't believe that Hemoth guy has a crush on me," Suki then said. "No one's ever crushed on me before."

    "Yeah, well…" Andre scratched his cheek. "If Eric keeps feeding him all that alpha shit, he might not be someone you should hang around."

    Suki huffed. "I can handle myself."

    Andre paused. "Alright," he then said. "You know yourself better than I do." It had only been that first meeting they'd had that she'd been a nervous wreck, and Andre knew that to be because of untreated withdrawal. Andre was glad that Hell apparently still had advanced enough medicine to treat that. Though… how did she end up so hooked on her drug that she tried to rob a store for it, then? Why hadn't that withdrawal medication been available for her at that time?

    Well, maybe the high of the drug was just that good, and Suki craved it too badly. Or maybe that withdrawal medication was a controlled substance, and she hadn't been approved for it, yet or at all. Maybe it was any of several other possible reasons. Did it really matter? No, it didn't. What mattered was that Suki was feeling better now.

    "Hmm…" Suki began. "I don't actually know if I should talk to Hemoth. Apologize for eavesdropping, maybe? He didn't seem like that bad of a guy. I wouldn't date him, but… if I had a crush and they overheard me saying I want to woo them, I'd be mortified."

    "Well, that's really up to you," Andre said. "I can see pros and cons for both options."

    "Like?"

    "If you go and apologize, that's nice of you. But, well, guys like him can also… misinterpret that. If you don't apologize, though, it might eat away at him. But you might also be dodging a bullet."

    Suki sighed. "I was never good at making hard decisions…"

    Andre smiled sympathetically. "Not many people are. They wouldn't be considered 'hard' otherwise."

    Suki smiled back.

    "So…" Andre began. "Where were you going before I bumped into you, anyway?"

    "Library. You wanna come with?"

    "Sure. And, um… you could tell me more about those special fish in your story?"

    Suki's smile grew into a beam. As she continued where she'd left off, they began making their way to the library. At the back of Andre's mind, though, he still wondered where Red might be…

    ---​

    The rest of the day passed without complications. Once Andre retreated back to his room, he found Red there. Andre asked the demon where he'd gone after dinner, and Red claimed he'd simply been 'hanging around wherever'. Andre supposed that wherever he'd gone had always been away from Andre's whereabouts, and considered this a satisfactory explanation.

    The following day, though, when Red was leaving dinner after covertly stashing away some more salad, Andre asked him if he could come with. Red declined, saying that he preferred to be alone. Andre respected that, but he couldn't deny that this made him even more curious.

    So, the day after that, Andre began trying to figure out where Red was going. Not by following him directly, no, but just casually through the process of elimination. He checked the rec room first - not there. He checked the library the next day - not there. He wanted to check the gym next, but honestly, he was still too shaken up about the whole Dmitri thing. And Andre already knew that Red visited the gym in the evening of each day. Why would he go there twice?

    On the third day, Andre decided to head out to the yard instead. He didn't like going there on account of the blistering heat and rotten egg smell, but his curiosity was strong.

    He exited the main building and immediately squinted. It really was bright. Must have been the fact that he'd spent, what, the past ten days indoors? If it weren't for windows, he could have honestly forgotten the sky here was red.

    He began to circle the yard. Every now and then, he glanced at the watchtowers, feeling uneasy knowing he was being monitored, both through demon eyes and security cameras. The guards there showed no emotion on their faces. Better that than anger, Andre supposed.

    There were other inmates in the yard, though only few. The girl from the hike, Jenny, was there, talking to some other female inmate as they leaned against the wall. Another group of inmates formed a huddle at the corner of the main building, each one smoking a cigarette. That goat-headed guy that Andre had met when questioning Diana was among them. A smoking goat. It would have been quaint had Andre not been painfully aware of how bad those things were for your lungs. But, well, he was in Hell. Vices were expected.

    Andre rounded the corner, trying his best not to breathe in the smoke, though also trying not to show it. He still didn't want to look like a princess.

    Andre kept following the wall past the corner, after which it bent outwards again to connect to the dormitory wing. He followed along that, too, until he could round another corner. He was getting close to that blind spot that Red had told Jake to meet him in for a fight just a day into the program. Andre huffed. While it wasn't nice to think that Red almost dying was a good thing, he still couldn't deny that it had probably taught him some well-needed humility. He was less of a risk for Andre's record that way.

    Unless… Red was going to the same blind spot Andre would soon arrive at to do something disagreeable.

    His pulse quickening, Andre approached the spot. It would be visible once he rounded the next corner. Hopefully he wouldn't be there…

    Andre reached the corner and peeked around it.

    Red was there.

    Andre's fist closed for a split second… but then he took a closer look.

    Red was crouching on the ground, and there were multiple black birds around him. Crows? No, they seemed to have red eyes and red horns. Well, they must have been some kinds of hell-crows, then. They seemed to be staring expectantly at Red, who was… digging something out of a zip lock bag. The salad he'd been putting there. He tore off a little piece of lettuce and offered it to the nearest crow, which stepped closer warily and then snatched the piece into its beak before eating it. Andre could see Red smile.

    This was baffling. Red was… feeding birds? Red?

    Just then, Red's gaze strayed in Andre's direction, and the two locked eyes. Red's smile dropped off his face in an instant. He stood up straight, spooking the crows into flitting further away, and pocketed the bag shortly before pocketing his hands as well. He avoided Andre's gaze. Was Red still embarrassed to be seen as anything other than some kind of badass? God.

    Andre decided to make his way to the demon, who did his best to ignore him - but his whipping tail betrayed his agitation.

    "Red," Andre said.

    Red still didn't make eye contact. "Hey."

    Andre sighed. "Red, there's no need to be upset. There's nothing wrong with feeding birds."

    Red didn't answer.

    "Did you use to feed birds a lot before you came here?" Andre asked.

    Red gave Andre a hesitant look. After a while, he replied. "Yeah." He paused. "But I fed them better. With seeds and nuts."

    "Is salad bad for them?"

    The demon shook his head. "Not really. Like, yeah, this lettuce has little to no nutritional value, but some of the other vegetables are good. Tomato isn't great since it's acidic, but at least it's not as bad as onion."

    Andre hummed. "You know a lot about this."

    Red shrugged. "It's… relevant to my studies. Was."

    "Oh yeah?"

    "Yeah. I was hoping to become an ornithologist. But, well, any zoology will do. Except…" He paused. "No, no, it's all fine."

    Andre crossed his arms with a smile. "What, what animal don't you like?"

    "No, they're all fine. Forget I said anything."

    "Alright."

    A few seconds of silence.

    "You can keep feeding the birds if you want," Andre said.

    "Mm, no, I don't have to…"

    "No, I'd like to see it."

    Red drew in a slow breath and looked at Andre again. Andre gave his sincerest smile. Come on, come on, just open up a little, the angel thought.

    Red sighed. "Alright, sure."

    He dug out his zip lock bag and crouched again. Immediately, the crows turned to look at him, but they didn't come closer, eyeing Andre warily.

    "You should get low," Red said. Andre nodded and did as requested. Red then dug out a piece of some vegetable that could maybe have been Hell's version of cucumber and offered it towards the birds. Some took steps closer, but it still seemed like Andre was too foreign for them…

    "Maybe if we look like we're friends," Red said and grabbed Andre's hand.

    Andre flinched at this sudden touch, especially as its texture was so unfamiliar - Red's hands, after all, were furred and had pads on the underside. Yet despite that… Andre remembered again how he'd felt when he'd first seen Red.

    No, not smart. Not smart.

    Red, in turn, paused to hold a gaze on their connected hands. His eyes then widened. He let go immediately after and shuffled a few steps away. "Sorry," he quickly said, "I just… I didn't think that through. I'm sorry."

    "Uh…" Andre tried to begin, at a bit of a loss for words. "It's… alright? You just touched my hand." He glanced away. "But, uh, warn me next time, okay?"

    "I, ah, hm…" Red got up and shoved away his salad bag, startling the birds again. "I need to go. Sorry."

    With that, he briskly walked away before Andre could think of anything else to say, leaving the angel alone with the crows.

    Andre looked down at his hand. The sensation of Red's touch replayed in his head alongside the feelings he'd felt.

    Despite all of the reasons why he shouldn't, he wanted to feel that touch again.

    No, okay? he thought to himself. Demon and angel, doesn't work. Man and man, doesn't work - not in Hell. Red probably isn't even gay despite what he's been called. This entire concept is stupid.

    He shook his head and stood up, crossing his arms. I do probably need to talk to Red, though - make sure he understands that touching another guy's hand in a scenario like this isn't gay and that he doesn't have to worry about it.

    With a sigh, he left the secret spot and headed back inside.

    ---

    Red

    ---​

    Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck, fuck, fuck.

    What was that? What in Arukei's fucking goat balls was that? It wasn't enough that he'd touched Andre like a homo, he had to feel… feelings.

    Like, yeah, it had been a while since he'd touched someone else like that, all gentle and shit, but why did it have to be Andre? Why?

    …Then again, Red couldn't pretend as if this was a complete surprise.

    There had been that one moment before. When he'd grabbed Andre by the collar after the angel was giving him shit about picking a fight with Jake, most pressingly. But he'd buried that. It didn't count. The blood pumping in his veins from the altercation had just taken a wrong turn. Nothing more.

    But this… as much as Red tried, he couldn't brush this off. He could only watch in horror as every memory involving Andre was recontextualized in real time before his mind's eye.

    No, no, no, no, no. I don't want to feel this way!


    He forced himself to focus only on his surroundings while he made his way from the yard to the main building and navigated to his… room…

    No, he couldn't go there, that was Andre's room too! Fuck!

    Where could he go, then? What was a place that Andre would never go? The gym, maybe? Sure. He could do his workout early. He just needed a quick change of clothes. He could do it quickly enough, right?

    He slipped into the room and got changed into his workout clothes in record time. He grabbed his gym bag and headed out. No Andre, good. He was free to blow off some steam on the pec deck.

    He began making his way to the gym and kept on that course until… he spotted Eric and those new reptilian friends of his at a point where one hallway intersected another. Suddenly curious - must have been the eagerness to get something else on his mind - he walked more slowly and pricked up his ears to the extent he could.

    "I'm telling you, that Diana is a jezebel," Eric said. "You don't want to pursue her. You don't know how many hands have touched --"

    All of a sudden, Red stopped caring. It was just some inane drama. Nothing that could keep his mind off… off Andre.

    Tail whipping, he passed them and kept going.

    ---

    Andre

    ---​

    After the incident with the birds, Red had become avoidant. He wouldn't speak to Andre unless there was something very mundane and neutral to take care of, and even that he seemed to struggle with. Andre tried several times to bring up the incident with the birds, but Red would shoot it down each time with 'I don't wanna talk about it'. Fine, Andre had eventually thought and decided that he'd done enough.

    Red did not sit with Andre and his friends during supper, isolating himself to a corner of some longer table the way he used to do before. Camila remarked on this and asked Andre if something had happened, but Andre decided to brush it off. Red likely wouldn't appreciate it.

    "Well, that takes away some tension," Arby said. "I don't think he's over the things Jake said to him, and since I'm friends with Jake…"

    "You know, you could have apologized," Andre muttered.

    Arby looked guilty, but didn't respond.

    As supper ended, the group split, and Andre headed to his room. Red was already there, as he'd left chow hall earlier, and he was reading another book on Hell's fauna. He didn't say anything to Andre, and Andre didn't say anything to him. Andre did his evening chores wordlessly before starting another letter to Ellie. He felt discouraged by the fact that he still hadn't gotten a response, but he also knew that the post system between Heaven and Hell was anything but fast.

    After that, Andre put away his draft and told Red that he'd like to turn in for the night. Red agreed with a quiet vocalization, and the two went to bed.

    The next morning passed leisurely, being a Saturday. Red still sat apart from the rest at breakfast and later at lunch and even on the just-started dinner. Andre also noticed that at no point did Red pull out his bag and begin stashing food. Was he really afraid that going out to feed the birds again would result in a repeat?

    "Got a crush, Andre?"

    "Huh?" Andre turned to Camila.

    "You keep checking on Red."

    Andre winced imperceptibly, then glanced between the demoness and Red. "Well, we're pairs. I need to keep an eye on him."

    "Hm. Fair enough, fair enough."

    Andre tapped on the table. "So, how's your pair doing, anyway?" he asked.

    Camila gestured towards Eric, who sat some way from them. "Same old same old, as you can see. Still hanging out with the Scale Sisters."

    "Suki and I decided to eavesdrop on them a bit ago," Andre said. "Eric seems like he's trying to exploit their insecurities and sell them on some macho bullshit. Building his own personal posse of insufferable people."

    Camila and Alice hummed in agreement while Arby looked a bit confused. He didn't protest, though.

    Andre was about to take another spoonful of his chicken soup when he noticed that people had started to lower their voices. Dmitri had entered the hall and the clip-clop of his hooves was heading straight for… huh? Eric and his pals? And whatever was on his mind, it seemed to have him in a pretty irate mood…

    By the time the horse-demon had reached the angel's table and caught the attention of the ones seated there, the hall had grown dead silent. Even the others in Andre's group had noticed. They watched the scene unfold with bated breath.

    Dmitri's low voice broke the silence. "Angel."

    Eric eyed him with equal parts caution and disdain. He then glanced at the guards. They seemed to have noticed, but weren't doing anything yet.

    Eric cleared his throat. "Yes?"

    "You called Diana a whore."

    Andre expected Eric to deny this, but instead the angel gave Hemoth a determined look. Hemoth looked uncertain, but once he glanced at something in another direction, he found the courage to get up. He matched Dmitri's height and captured the horse-demon's attention.

    "Yeah," the reptile said. "He did."

    Oh my god, thought Andre. What? What's he doing?

    "Sit down, lizard," Dmitri ordered.

    Hemoth hesitated, but then looked in that same direction he had before. Andre scanned it more thoroughly and realized what Hemoth was checking. It was Suki.

    He… wants to impress Suki… by being the alpha. Andre wanted to bury his face in his hands, but he couldn't look away.

    "No," Hemoth said. "If you have a problem with Eric, you have a problem with me."

    Before Dmitri could respond, a guard's shout cut through the air. "Hey! Behave!"

    Neither Dmitri nor Hemoth stood down. The guard - a bald, red-skinned man with ram-like horns - began to approach, joined by another guard of a darker shade and large fangs. One second felt like a hundred. Everyone waited for the bomb to blow.

    The guards reached Dmitri. "Break it up," the other one said.

    Dmitri's jaw clenched, but then he huffed and turned to leave. Andre released his breath, happy that the whole ordeal was over.

    Until Eric opened his mouth again.

    "She is a whore."

    Andre knew that Dmitri would snap, but he could never have predicted how.

    Dmitri hunched over, trembling, and wispy shadows took over his body. The guards recoiled as Dmitri's form grew and changed, his bones audibly crackling. The inmate that had, seconds ago, been a humanoid with only the ears, legs and tail of a horse, became a massive, muscular draft horse with two sabre-like horns and a mane that lit up with crimson flames.

    It reared and neighed with a dark resonance in its voice before slamming its front hooves into the floor with a deafening thud, cracking it. It then spun around and faced Eric, who had fallen off his chair in shock and whose blood was rapidly leaving his face.

    As the inmates in the hall, Andre and his friends included, got off their chairs and crouched behind them, one of the guards grabbed his transceiver. "Beast-out at chow hall!" he shouted into it. "Tranq gun and armored unit needed ASAP!"

    On the second floor, Andre could see another guard rush for a locked box on the wall, while on the first floor, the ram-horned guard slipped between Eric and the horse. He pulled out his gun and aimed it at the demonic equine's forehead. The fanged guard did the same.

    The horse snorted and shook its head from side to side. It wasn't attacking, so maybe it understood on some level that the guns were a danger to it…?

    Something moved on the second floor again, and Andre could spot a guard with a long gun aiming at the horse. It fired with two fwips and embedded two bright orange darts into the horse's hindquarters. The horse reared and whinnied again, and Eric and the guard protecting him backed up. The beast, pawing the ground, looked ready to charge… until it heard another pair of hooves approaching it from behind.

    Another guard had entered the hall. This one had the head and legs of a brown bull - in other words, he was a minotaur. He had a similar amulet around his neck as Samson had worn on the hike. Magic armor.

    "Hey!" the minotaur shouted as he weaved through the tables and the inmates hiding beside and underneath them. He stopped and tapped the ground with his right hoof. "Over here, you piece of shit!"

    The horse seemed to understand the challenge. It snorted, leaned back and leaped at the minotaur, who caught its front hooves with a grunt. Neighing with agitation, the beast tried to wrench itself free, but the minotaur's grip was strong - until the horse managed to tilt him backwards and toppled him over. It then --

    "Everyone, evacuate!" shouted the fanged guard. "While he keeps it busy!"

    Right, of course. Andre, alongside Alice, Camila and Arby, joined a growing tide of fleeing inmates. Once they reached the wall, they moved along it until they could leave through the emergency exit. They found themselves in the yard and decided to make their way all the way to the fence before they could breathe more easily.

    Wait, where was Red? Andre looked around, but he couldn't see the hound-demon anywhere.

    "Are you guys alright?" Alice asked.

    "Yeah…" said Arby and Camila.

    "I'm fine," Andre said, "but did you guys see where Red went? Or… Suki?" He couldn't see Suki around, either…

    The locust-man and demonesses exchanged glances. "Didn't catch them," Camila said.

    Fuck. Okay. Andre stuck his fingernails into his scalp. What was he going to do? Well, he couldn't do anything, could he? If he were stupid enough to run back inside, he'd just get stomped to death and probably make the operation even harder for the guards. So he had to wait. Just wait. Couldn't do anything. Like he couldn't do anything about those villagers --

    The door opened again. A familiar demon quickly emerged - Red. Oh, thank Arukei.

    Andre ran up to him and noticed him flinch at the sight of the angel. Even now? Andre thought, annoyed. Come on.

    "Are you okay?" he asked.

    "Yeah, I'm okay," Red said, though he looked nervous. "I'm okay."

    "Let's get further away," Andre said and almost grabbed Red's wrist before realizing that would lead to further problems. Instead, he simply led by example and hurried back towards Alice and the others.

    "He's not gonna fucking explode or anything," Red muttered, but did follow.

    Having reached his group, Andre turned around again to keep an eye out for Suki. After a few dozen seconds of what must have been apparent worry on his face, Alice placed a hand on his shoulder.

    "H-hey, it'll be alright," Alice said. "They shot that horse with tranq darts. They'll probably take effect soon enough, and the situation'll be over."

    "Okay, okay…" Andre took a moment to breathe. "I'm fine."

    "Good. Let's just keep waiting."

    And wait they did. Seconds, then minutes. Suki still wasn't coming out. Suki wasn't coming --

    Andre heard running steps and saw someone emerge from behind the corner of the building. Suki. Andre sighed in relief as the feline demoness made her way to them. He didn't even care to think about the fact that she would have had to use a very odd path to escape to end up there.

    "You okay?" she asked.

    "Yeah, are you?"

    "Think so, yeah…" She looked at the emergency exit. "But… Hemoth hasn't come out yet, has he?"

    Hemoth… did Suki really care that much about Hemoth already when she'd only heard that he'd had a crush on her? Then again, it was only noble to care…

    "He was right next to Eric," Suki continued. "I hope… I hope he's fine."

    Andre took a breath in. "I'm sure he's fine. I hear helodermids are really tough."

    "Mm…"

    They continued to wait, not feeling up to chatter. Eventually, though, all of them were allowed relief once the ram-horned guard from before exited the building and announced that the situation was over. That the beaster had succumbed to the tranquilizers and transformed back to his regular humanoid form which had then been taken into solitary confinement.

    "Wh-what about the people still inside?" Suki asked.

    "They're alright," the guard said. "No injuries."

    Suki sighed out the tension in her body. "Okay. Thank you."

    "So, uhh…" Another voice entered the conversation - Diana's. "What'll happen to Dmitri now?" She didn't really sound concerned. More inconvenienced.

    "That decision hasn't been made yet," the guard said. "Ask later."

    Diana rolled her eyes, which Andre was surprised to be able to notice when they were all-black.

    The guard turned to address the others. "You can all come back inside now. Go about your business as usual."

    "Oh, shit, sure," Arby muttered. "That'll be easy."

    Andre briefly thought about how, if this had happened in Heaven, everyone involved would have been offered free counseling and a plethora of resources about trauma. Not that Andre really needed those. It was just a curious difference.

    Nevertheless, the inmates did slowly make their way back into the premises. Alice and Camila invited Andre to hang out, but as Andre recalled how Red had looked after this incident, he figured he should go and talk to him. If he'd agree to it and not stubbornly continue to avoid Andre. The girls respected his choice and left him, and Andre headed for his dorm room.

    On the way there, Andre wondered why he felt the need to care for Red in this regard. Red was still prickly, and while he showed some glimmers of a better person underneath that facade, he'd still killed someone. Sure, Andre knew that he'd had to have had an 'understandable' reason for it to get into the program, but how much did he know about what was considered 'understandable' to demons? Not much at all. It could have been a bar brawl for all Andre knew. Red had shown signs of a short temper…

    Andre's thoughts came to a halt as he reached the door to his room. He entered, and there Red was, sitting on the bed, leaning forward onto his knees. He gave Andre a look which started off as startled, but melted into tiredness. The demon turned his head forward again, staring at the opposite wall. The tip of his tail rose and fell like a nervously tapped foot.

    Andre closed the door and cleared his throat. "How are you doing?"

    Red gave Andre a quick glance. "Mm."

    "Is that a yes or a no?"

    The demon paused, then glanced at Andre again. "It's not great," he said.

    Andre sat on his own bed, facing Red. "I'm here to listen if you want to talk about it."

    Red drew in a breath and let it out. He met Andre's eyes. "They didn't tell you what they're gonna do with Dmitri, did they?"

    Andre shook his head. "I haven't heard anything new."

    "Figures." As Andre didn't continue, Red did. "If I had to guess, they'll transfer him to solitary in West Woe or some similar place."

    "Hmm." Andre blinked. "Isn't that a good thing? Dmitri's… not a good guy. Not a safe guy to be around."

    Red frowned and lowered his gaze, not saying anything. Not for another minute or so. But Andre was patient.

    "I was really lucky, you know," the demon finally said.

    "Lucky in what?"

    "Lucky to get into this program. Considering what… what happened."

    Andre tensed up. Was Red about to say what his crime was like?

    Red met Andre's eyes again. "When a beaster beasts out, it's usually considered their fault. That they should have just contained their anger, suppressed the beast. That's why they get convicted of violent crimes the same way that normal people do."

    Beasters…? Wait, was Red a…

    "I only got into this program because they deemed that I was in a situation where… I couldn't be blamed for getting angry."

    Andre kept quiet.

    Red sighed, returning his gaze to the floor. "I don't wanna say any more than that, but… I'm sure you've realized why I care what happens to Dmitri, at least."

    Well, it made sense. It made sense for a beaster to care how harshly another one would be punished for losing control in this program.

    "So…" Andre began. "Does the staff know?"

    "Yeah," Red said. "Hard for them not to know when it's so strongly tied to the reason I'm here."

    "Did they not tell you what would happen if you… lost control?"

    "They said it'd be handled on a case-by-case basis. That it'd depend on how… justifiable it was. And how much damage it caused."

    Andre thought about the cracks in the floor that Dmitri's hooves had left behind. It probably wouldn't be cheap to fix that… but Red must have been talking about injuries. Or maybe not. Hell was pretty materialistic.

    "But, well," Red sighed, "if getting mad at some guy's words is considered unjustified enough to get you kicked out and isolated, and I'm me…"

    "You kept control even when Jake was bothering you, though," Andre said, his dislike of Jake growing with this new contextual information. "I saw him yank your tail in PE, and you still didn't beast out. I would've been furious."

    "Believe me, I was furious," Red muttered. "Just… barely not furious enough for the beast to take over."

    Andre sighed. "Well… Jake is gone now, at least." It was an awful thing to say, but Andre didn't have much love for the pig at the moment. "And if Dmitri's leaving, that's another troublemaker gone."

    "Someone else will fill their place," Red said. "They always do."'

    Andre hummed, having little faith that continuing to argue would change Red's mind. He opted for a different approach. "Well, if it happens… you can come to me about it, you know. We're pairs. We're supposed to look out for each other."

    Red took in a slow, deep breath through his nose before making eye contact again. He looked like he wanted to say something, but it wouldn't come out. He turned his head to the side and scratched the back of his head.

    "I don't know if I can… look out for you," he finally said. "I don't know if I know how."

    "That's fine," Andre said. "I only need you to be a decent guy. You don't have to become a counselor or anything. I can handle myself."

    "I can also handle myself," Red muttered, but it seemed like an automatic response rather than something he actually meant.

    "Well, it's still nice when you have someone to talk to, isn't it?" Andre said.

    "...I guess."

    The room fell into silence again. Andre wasn't sure what else to say in that moment. Maybe keeping quiet was the right course of action, anyway.

    Red spoke up a minute or two later. "I'm sorry I've been weird ever since the… bird thing."

    "That's fine," Andre said. "I know you have… hangups about being perceived a certain way."

    Red gave Andre a quick nervous glance.

    "But it's really not gay, Red," Andre said, sighing. "And being gay isn't even a bad thing. I know most of Hell hasn't seemed to realize that, but it's true. If being gay was bad in some way, some kind of adverse effect would have certainly been observed by now in the places where people can be openly homosexual, like Heaven. But none has."

    "You can be openly gay in Heaven?"

    "Yes. The rumor saying you can't isn't true."

    "Huh." After another silent spell, Red continued with a question. "So… are you…?"

    This brought Andre to a fork in the road. He had sort of assumed that Red had already clocked him with the slurs he'd thrown around, but he supposed then that it had only been part of Red's carefully constructed facade. So, what should Andre do? Would Red be open-minded if Andre confirmed his suspicions? Or would he, sooner or later, expose Andre publicly in a situation where he needed to reinforce his tough guy image? Andre didn't care what the other inmates thought of his orientation, but if they were going to use it as an excuse for abuse…

    "You are, then?" Red asked.

    Andre flinched. "Hey, no, you can't just assume that based on how long it takes me to answer."

    "Kinda can. A straight guy wouldn't hesitate to say he isn't."

    Andre sighed. He supposed that if Red was already going to assume he was queer, the demon might as well know the specifics. "Well, Red, I'm not homosexual. I'm pansexual. Do you know what that means?"

    Red scoffed. "Of course I know. It means you're into guys and girls and the kinds of demons that aren't really either." He paused. "Or, well, angels. You probably aren't into demons."

    Oh boy, I sure wish that were the case, Andre thought.

    "Anyway, I do think it's a little weird to be into slug people and shit, but you do you," Red said.

    "What?"

    "Slugs, you know. Since they're hermaphrodites."

    "...Oh." Andre chuckled nervously. "Well, I didn't say I was into everyone of every gender."

    Red shrugged.

    Andre sighed. "Well, regardless… are we cool?"

    Red blinked, staring at Andre. Then he… smiled. It was just a little smile, but it was there. "Yeah. We're cool."

    Andre smiled back. "Good to hear." He sat up straight and thought for a moment. "I think I'm gonna head to the rec room. Alice and Camila are there. Would you like to come along?"

    "Uh…" Red looked at the book on his nightstand. "No, thanks. I think I'd like to catch up on some reading."

    "Suit yourself," Andre said, getting up and making his way to the door. "See ya."

    "Yeah, see ya."

    Andre exited the room and headed for his destination.

    On the way there, he kept catching himself thinking about Red's smile.

    ---​
     
    Chapter Seven - Nature Hour New
  • canisaries

    you should've known the price of evil
    Premium
    Location
    Stovokor
    Pronouns
    she/her
    Partners
    1. inkay-shirlee
    2. houndoom-elliot
    3. yamask-joanna
    4. shuppet
    5. deerling-andre
    6. omanyte
    7. hizzap
    Back again! This time we have a chiller chapter. Or do we...?

    Content warnings for misogyny and a pretty miserable backstory. Enjoy!

    ---

    CHAPTER SEVEN
    Nature Hour


    ---

    Red

    As soon as Andre had closed the door, Red sighed. He ran his claws across his scalp, then fell back onto his bed.

    Well, he'd gotten through that conversation without Andre realizing he was gay, let alone intrigued by Andre. Though he'd gone and admitted to Andre that he was a beaster. Another secret so carelessly spilt because Andre had just felt so trustworthy in the moment…

    Sure, Andre had seemed accepting of Red's condition, but… how could that be? Had he just not understood what it really meant?

    No, Andre had seen exactly what beasters were capable of with Dmitri's outburst. He also now knew that Red had committed his crime in his beast form, so he couldn't think that Red's inner beast in specific was harmless.

    It had to be some kind of angelic naivete, then. That dangerous people weren't dangerous as long as they appeared safe under normal circumstances. Sure, Red would have liked to believe that - he'd lapsed into believing it many times, but every time he'd heard news of another beaster attack, it had reminded him he was simply a bomb just waiting to go off again.

    He thought of all the times he'd 'gone off' before. The first time, it had been brief and no one had gotten hurt, the second and third time he'd managed to isolate himself before it happened, but the fourth and most recent time… well, Ms Chambers had paid the price. While Red was certain she'd deserved it, it had landed Red in this program and destroyed his dreams of any kind of career. And the feelings that came when that beast took control… Red had wondered many times if the humanoid that stared back in the mirror truly was his real self.

    If Andre knew what he was really like, he'd change his mind in an instant. If he had any brains to him, that was. So, with that in mind, should Red even be hanging out with Andre? Wouldn't he be putting him at risk?

    As soon as Red thought of cutting ties with Andre, something lurched inside him. No, he couldn't. He couldn't let Andre go now that he knew so much about Red that could be used against him. And… Red had to admit that he didn't want to turn away a frie- acquaintance that tolerated him now that he finally had one for the first time since… ever.

    He'd just have to continue keeping himself together. Suppressing the beast inside. Staying calm, chill. He could do that, right? He'd done fine so far. Jake had threatened that but, well, that fucker was miles away from here by now. And Dmitri was probably leaving soon, too. Red only had to hope he wouldn't end up the same…

    He sighed again. He'd thought enough about this for now. He grabbed his book and began reading.

    ---

    Andre

    Andre, once again, woke up to a series of ascending dings.

    “Good morning, everyone! I hope you slept well - after yesterday's incident, your soul-marbles really needed the rest. Remember to take things leisurely today, too - as the day is a Sunday, this shouldn't be too hard to achieve."

    Samson paused for a moment, seeming to hesitate.

    "I should also let you all know what will happen to Mr Dmitri Volkov. Mr Ronove has decided that he is to be transferred to West Woe Penitentiary and thus will not be continuing in this program with us. We hope…"
    He hesitated again. "We hope that Mr Volkov will be accommodated well."

    His tone became more chipper again. "Anyway, that would be all! Samson out!"

    The intercom went silent. Andre heard Red sigh.

    "Hey, don't worry about it," Andre said to the demon. "That won't be you."

    "I sure hope so," Red mumbled.

    As Red got up and started his morning chores right away, Andre stayed behind for a while to think about what Dmitri's transferral meant. Dmitri would be gone. Dmitri, likely killer of Jake and Zeevo.

    Sure, it was a relief not to have a murderer inside these walls anymore - well, a currently murdering murderer - but Andre didn't know what this would mean for the investigation. While Dmitri would certainly be interrogated, the angel couldn't imagine the horse-demon spilling anything when he hardly spoke three words a day in general. The case would go cold, and… the victims would never get justice. Arby would never get justice.

    Would they even tell Arby about Dmitri? How did Hell work in that regard? Could the identities of lead suspects be divulged to the next of kin of the victim? After how long?

    Andre could’ve asked at the library. Not just about what would be done about the investigation, but if he would still be an informant. There could possibly still be evidence he could uncover, evidence that would prove Dmitri did it. Get him put away for life, not just… however long they decided his sentence for the beast-out would be. Maybe he'd even be put into a torment facility. Or, well, Andre wasn't sure if Dmitri deserved that. He didn't know Dmitri's motives or mental state. Maybe his inner beast compelled him to kill? Maybe he wasn't as culpable as he seemed?

    Andre shook his head. He couldn't really do anything about that, so he shouldn't dwell on it. He got up and started his own morning chores.

    ---​

    Andre was pleasantly surprised to see Red join him and the others again at breakfast. He didn't seem to be in a very chatty mood, but then again, was he ever?

    After the group's obligatory good-morning-wishes to each other, Camila spoke up first. "So, Dmitri's leaving."

    Alice flinched at the name, which made Camila groan. "Lis, he can't do anything to us anymore," Camila said.

    "I know," Alice said. "Just force of habit."

    "Anyway, this place ought to be a lot safer with that guy outta here," Camila said.

    "Yeah, especially now that we know he was a beaster," Arby added.

    Alice and Camila exchanged a glance. Red stopped picking at his oatmeal for a moment, but then continued.

    "So, Andre," Camila spoke up again, "where did you end up falling on Dmitri as a suspect, anyway?"

    Andre looked briefly at Arby. He supposed he couldn't be blamed for stating something obvious, such as… "Well, he did have plenty of anti-fly tattoos."

    "He did?" Arby asked.

    "You never noticed?" Camila asked. "His body was covered in 'em."

    "I tried not to look at the guy too hard," Arby said defensively. "He seemed like someone who'd crush you just for making eye contact at the wrong moment. Even Jake knew not to fuck with him. And Jake was a lot sturdier than an insect."

    "Mm, I guess that's fair."

    Alice then straightened up. "Mila, how is Eric? He ought to be pretty shaken up, right?"

    Camila scoffed. "Not shaken up enough, if you ask me. Look." She pointed a spoon towards Eric, who sat a few tables away. The angel seemed to be speaking to Viathan and Hemoth with fervor.

    "I'll bet you he's talking some bigoted shit again," Camila continued. "I already heard some of it on my way here. He's really using Dmitri's attack as proof that he's being persecuted for his opinions."

    "Ah." Andre grimaced briefly. "Do you think someone ought to… talk to his new friends and let them know Eric's full of it?"

    "I doubt they'd listen," Camila said. "Just look at them. They're looking at Eric like puppies. Except way less cute." Camila sighed. "I miss my pups. They're gonna be all grown up when I get out. And sold away. You know, they were the first pups that I was solely responsible for? And now I won't even have a say in what kind of people . . ."

    As Camila continued to talk about her canine husbandry, Andre let go of the topic he'd tried to discuss - but he didn't let go of the thought. Talking to Viathan and Hemoth alone seemed like something he ought to do, especially if the investigation ended and he was allowed to act nosy again.

    Well, he'd find out soon enough. He'd head to the library as soon as breakfast was over.

    Over the next few minutes, Andre ate the rest of his oatmeal and said his 'see ya's, but as he got up, so did Red. He'd finished his meal as well.

    "You, uh, heading to our room?" Andre asked.

    "Yeah?" Red said.

    "We'll go together, then," Andre said. It was inconvenient, but he wanted to be polite, especially when he knew Red must have still been in low spirits.

    "Oh. Sure, sounds good," the demon said.

    They returned their dishes and set off on their way to their room. Red wasn't saying anything, so Andre figured he should.

    "I'm sorry about Arby," he said. "About what he suggested about beasters."

    Red flinched and glanced around, then sighed. "No, he's right," he said. "Beasters are dangerous."

    Andre wanted to argue, but he also wasn't sure how. As far as he understood, beasters did have a higher risk of hurting people than others and thus could be considered dangerous. But people should still be tactful about it, right? Being a beaster must have been a source of great stress for a person with that condition. Red, at least, seemed to be worried about it.

    They continued on to their room in silence. Red began seeming pensive, but Andre didn't want to seem too pushy and ask about it. So, when they got to the door, Andre said his 'bye' - but to his surprise, the demon spoke up again.

    "Where are you headed?" Red asked.

    "The library," Andre said. Although maybe saying that was a bad ide-

    "Oh, I gotta return a book there," Red said. "We can go together."

    Bad idea indeed. Andre sighed internally as his politeness took over again. "Sure, we can go together," he said. He could always just go again later.

    Red nodded and snatched the book from his room.

    "Hey," Andre started as they departed, "is that a peacock on the cover?"

    "Hm?" Red glanced at the book. "Oh, that. It's a Perditionese phoenix."

    "A phoenix? Does it reincarnate?"

    Red shook his head. "Nah, that's just a myth. But it does burn up when it dies, turning into ash. Happens to a couple of other fiery animals, too, though. Some other folklore says that it's because their fire is hungry to burn them after being forced to serve them for so long, but science suggests it's more due to something in their biochemistry."

    Red's tail had begun to wag a little when he spoke. Andre smiled to himself, but didn't point it out. "I see," he said when Red finished speaking.

    "Yeah." Red paused. "You know, the state we're in right now, Woe, has the Perditionese phoenix as its state bird. It's on the flag as well - but the one on the flag is white. There's a myth behind that, too."

    "Oh, yeah, I think I saw that flag during my escort to this place. Wasn't it crying? Had its mouth open, too."

    "Yes, it was!" Red's tail wagged more. "It's said that, back before the muting of magic, one warlord rose to power in the Woe area by stealing the fire of the phoenixes and giving it to his troops to use in battle. But this made the phoenixes white as ash, weak and ill. So they began to sing a lament that was so heartbreaking that even the toughest of the warlord's troops broke down in tears, unable to keep fighting."

    "Oh?" Quite poetic for Hell.

    "As soon as the warlord heard of this, he returned the fire to the phoenixes, but the damage had already been done, and his troops had been reduced to a seventh of what they originally were - seven, like the seven tail feathers of a Perditionese phoenix."

    Andre was fascinated by the tale, and so was Red - until the demon realized that a smile had crept on his face and his tail was wagging nonstop, and he suppressed both in an instant. It was a bit of a downer.

    Andre cleared his throat. "Well, I think that's a really cool myth," he said. "I don't think Heaven has any myths like that."

    "Really?"

    "Yeah. I mean, there's the Book of Arukei, but everything in that actually happened. According to Arukei, anyway."

    "Huh." Red frowned.

    "Oh, but we do know Earth myths," Andre said. "Angels in general try to keep up with humans' cultures and beliefs so that we can judge them more fairly."

    "How so?"

    "Well, for example, a large portion of Earth's population has historically thought homosexuality to be a sin. Arukei never agreed with that, but interference in Earth's matters would have gone against his Plan. He also didn't want to throw most of humanity into Hell when a good portion of them were only ignorant instead of actively hateful."

    "What'd he do, then?"

    "Well, those people got to go to Heaven. Which caused problems for those virtuous and queer, but angels can be persuasive. Sometimes by force, but… well, it's just something that's necessary to create a place where everyone can comfortably be what they are. As long as it doesn't hurt anyone."

    Which is why they kicked you out, demonheart,
    said a thought.

    Yeah, well, I'm trying to have a conversation here, Andre thought back. "Anyway, thanks to those homophobes, we now have replacionists like Eric running around who think there's a conspiracy where the real homophobic and misogynist Arukei was replaced by this current actually compassionate one. Oh, the horror."

    "Huh. I see."

    Their walk continued wordlessly for a while.

    "What is…" Red started, "Heaven's wildlife like?"

    It wasn't surprising that Red was interested in that. "Ah, well, a lot of the animals are just like the ones on Earth. Heaven has pretty similar ecosystems to Earth, although some species are gone. Like spiders."

    Red stopped, his tail stiffening. "Heaven has no spiders?"

    Andre stopped as well. "Yeah. Well, no, some places have them, but those are contained."

    Red held a stare that Andre couldn't read, but then continued walking. "Okay. No spiders. What else is different?"

    "Some Earth animals have special Celestial counterparts," Andre said. "Like heaven-hounds for dogs, pterippi for horses and chrysomalli for sheep."

    "What are those like?"

    "Heaven-hounds and pterippi are like their counterparts, but have a white coat and wings and halos made of golden light. Kinda like mine." Andre flapped his wings, which made Red recoil, but their feathers simply passing through him calmed the demon down again. They didn't even cause the air to flow. "But they can actually fly. Their wings are imbued with magic that allows for aerokinesis. The wings of humanoid angels aren't. Don't ask me why. I don't know why Arukei made that choice."

    "I see. And the… sheep?"

    "Chrysomalli have halos, too, but no wings. They do, however, have an extra-soft coat of golden wool as well as golden hooves and, if they're male, golden horns. Most of Heaven's clothing is made of that wool. Actually, so are the clothes I'm wearing right now." Andre offered his sleeve-covered arm. "Wanna touch? It's very comfortable."

    Red withdrew a little. "Uh… no, I'm good."

    Right. "Well, anyway, those are a few important angelic animals. But there are different types of sapient angels, too."

    "Yeah?"

    "Yeah, like the Cherubim and the Ophanim. These two are highly powerful angels that have existed since the creation of Heaven. Cherubim are humanoids thrice as tall as your average angel with four heads - a human-like one in the usual place, a lion's head on the right shoulder, an eagle's head on the left shoulder and a bull's head on the chest. And they have wings, but so do nearly all angels. Apparently, all four heads speak in unison."

    "Apparently? You haven't met any?"

    Andre huffed, amused. "No, no way. The Cherubim exist high on Heaven's Roof - that's our tallest mountain - and only their messengers are allowed to see them. There aren't even any photos of them, only illustrations." Andre paused. "But us common angels did eventually manage to convince them to teach us their Cherubian script. It's what I've been writing all my notes in."

    "Oh, those squares and diamonds you keep drawing?"

    "Yep. They say they use a square or diamond as the basis for each letter because both shapes have four points. Four points for the four-headed beings."

    "Huh. Could you teach me how to read it sometime?"

    Andre winced. "Uh… maybe not. I rather like being able to write knowing that no one but me can read it here. Or I guess Eric and Samson might know. But I'm not too worried about them."

    "Hm, alright. We all have our secrets to keep."

    Andre let out a quiet sigh of relief.

    "So, what was that other type of angel you mentioned?"

    Andre smiled again and began explaining the Ophanim - the bizarre entities made up of interlocking wheels covered in eyes who guarded the slopes of Heaven's Roof - and other classes of angel. Once he reached a natural stopping point, they'd already been standing next to the library's door for a while.

    "I think I've prattled on long enough," Andre said. "Shall we go in?"

    "Oh, sure," Red said.

    They entered quietly. The librarian, Irma, locked eyes with Andre and opened her mouth, but then noticed Red and instead only nodded. Red returned his book with the necessary exchange of words and then moved on to the rest of the library to seek out something new to borrow.

    Andre covertly turned to Irma. "Any news for me?" he asked as quietly as he could.

    "One message," Irma replied.

    "I'll come back for it later," Andre said before heading out after Red.

    Red ended up borrowing yet another book on Hell's fauna. He and Andre exited the library without further ado, and Red encouraged Andre to keep telling him more about Heaven. Andre gladly obliged… though he couldn't deny that a considerable part of him wished Red would simply get bored and leave so that Andre could go back and receive his message.

    It turned out that walking all the way back to their room was what it took for Red to finally let Andre go. When Andre expressed that he wanted to take a stroll in the yard, Red didn't ask to join him, instead just giving a neutral 'alright'. Andre nodded and closed the door before retracing the steps he'd just finished taking less than a minute ago.

    He arrived at the library and, after getting confirmation from Irma that no one else was in the library, requested to see this message sent to him. It was, as expected, from Mr Ronove, and it read…

    Hello, Mr Duval. I presume you have already heard that Mr Volkov is due for transferral to West Woe. I should add that we plan to interrogate him before he changes custody now that we know he will not be able to talk to other inmates about the questions posed to him. We will inform you of any relevant findings later as well as decide what this means for your role in our investigation. In the meantime, you should continue to lie low as we've agreed. You seem to have succeeded in this well enough so far, as the staff report having witnessed no more suspicion towards you than usual.

    Best of luck,
    Gideon Ronove


    "Oh," Andre said. "They haven't even started interrogating him yet."

    "Well, this came right after the morning announcement," Irma said. "They've probably started it by now. But they probably won't be finished for a while, especially if this Mr Volkov is as tight-lipped as the rest of the staff says. Either way, you'll just have to be patient."

    Andre sighed. 'Patient' was not a word that described him right now. "Well, thanks anyway," Andre said. "Let Mr Ronove know that I've received his message."

    "Will do."

    With that, Andre exited the library. So. More waiting. Awesome. Though he supposed that he didn't want the investigation to be rushed, either…

    Regardless of how painstaking it was, though, time ultimately passed. After his lessons were over the next day, Andre returned to the library to find a new message from Mr Ronove. It said that Dmitri had kept his mouth shut regardless of anything the interrogators had done - Andre found this phrasing a bit worrying - and that there was no sufficient evidence to prosecute him. However, a bit strangely, Mr Ronove said that he had a strong feeling that Dmitri was indeed guilty and that he would also still face consequences. Did that have something to do with the fact that Mr Ronove used to work at West Woe…?

    The message went on to say that Andre should consider the investigation to be over and his services no longer needed. For the moment. Mr Ronove did leave off with an implication that Andre could be called upon again should there be any other worrying incident that warranted a closer look.

    This all felt rather convenient to Andre. Mr Ronove had a strong feeling that Dmitri was the guy? And that he'd worked alone, even though he showed no signs of digital expertise? Andre contemplated bringing up what he'd heard of Hemoth and computers, but decided against it. Mr Ronove seemed very adamant in his verdict, and Andre didn't want to argue with the guy who could probably make me Dmitri's cellmate if he crossed him.

    Andre left the library again, though this time with a destination in mind. The memory of Hemoth had reminded him of something he wanted to do. He thus headed for the room where he'd eavesdropped on Eric and his reptilian friends before…

    ---​

    The door to the room was closed. Andre was about to knock on it, then hesitated, and then knocked anyway. It soon opened, and a tusked demon peered from the crack - the same one that Andre had seen with Diana before.

    "What?" the demon asked, not too warmly.

    "Uh, hi," Andre said. "Do you share this room with Viathan or Hemoth?"

    "Viathan, yeah," the demon said. "Don't know where he is right now, but I'd try the yard. You know how much reptilians like to bask." He paused. "Or maybe not. You're an angel."

    "...Yes," Andre said. "Uh, thanks. I got what I needed."

    "Aight," the tusked demon said and closed the door.

    Andre then made his way out of the building and into the yard. It took a little looking, but he was indeed able to find the two reptilians sitting on one mat each at the corner of the yard, taking in the sun with their eyes closed. The mats seemed to be different from the mats among the gymnasium equipment, so Andre supposed they'd brought them in themselves.

    Andre approached the reptilians, about to clear his throat, but Viathan opened one of his eyes before Andre had the chance. He opened the other one as well and turned his head to the angel. "What?" he asked, snapping Hemoth out of his own trance.

    "I'd like to talk to you for a moment," Andre said.

    Viathan narrowed his eyes. "What about?"

    Andre crossed his arms. "Eric."

    "Why?"

    Andre sighed. "Because he's been feeding you utter bullshit."

    Hemoth glanced between Andre and Viathan, while the blue lizard scoffed. "What's bullshit about it?"

    "Well, first of all, none of that 'alpha male' shit is supported by sociology."

    "Sociology? That's a chick field. And I don't trust chicks to do science."

    Andre glared at Viathan, but the reptilian didn't relent. As soon as he looked over to Hemoth, though, the helodermid shrank.

    "What do you think, Hemoth?" Andre asked.

    "I, uh…" Hemoth began, avoiding Andre's gaze and scratching his belly.

    "He agrees with me," Viathan said, "don't you, Hemoth?"

    Hemoth glanced at Viathan, then nodded. "Mm-hm."

    "You know, Suki was going into medicine before she ended up here," Andre said. "Forensics. There's a lot of science involved there. Would you tell her she couldn't do it?"

    Hemoth scratched himself more, giving Viathan a desperate look.

    Viathan let out a shallow sigh, then turned to Andre. "Of course he would. Chicks want to be bossed around, anyway. Put in their place, you know. Ever seen the kinda pornos they write? That's what they really want." Viathan raised a claw to point at Andre. "Not someone like you. Hit the gym sometime, won't you?"

    "Could say the same to you."

    Viathan's eyes widened, and he brought his arms over his chest. "I'm a regular blueband. We're just built like this."

    "Sure," Andre said, not skimping out on the sarcasm.

    "Whatever! Go bother someone else, mammal, before I bite you."

    Andre rolled his eyes. He turned to leave, but held a gaze at Hemoth before doing so. The helodermid looked apologetic. Maybe, then, he could be convinced to stop hanging out with Eric if Andre simply cornered him on his own later. But gently. Flies, honey, vinegar, so on.

    Andre made his way inside again and headed for his room, thinking he could catch up on some reading. As he arrived at his destination, however, he found Arby waiting by his door. The locust raised a hand in greeting… but he seemed quite despondent.

    "Hey," Andre said. "What's up?"

    "Can I, um, talk to you?" Arby asked. "In private."

    "Sure. Lemme see if Red's here, though…" Andre opened the door to his room, which was empty. "He's not here. Probably at the gym. Come in."

    Arby entered as requested, and Andre closed the door behind him. "What did you want to talk about?"

    Arby gave Andre a heartbroken look, which again puzzled Andre as he didn't understand how a locust-monster's face could be so expressive.

    "It's about Zeevo, huh," Andre said.

    Arby nodded, looking away. "I don't have anything new to tell you," he said. "I just… you're the only one I can really come and talk to about these things, you know?"

    Andre was surprised for a moment, but then realized this made sense. Jake and Zeevo were both gone, not that Jake seemed like someone you could have heart-to-hearts with. "Sure. Anytime."

    Arby took a seat on Andre's bed. Andre took a seat on Red's, hoping the hound-demon wouldn't mind.

    "Zeevo must be… gone," Arby said. "Flung to Terminus. Most certainly stripped of his memories and personality by now."

    Andre gave a solemn nod. Nothing confirmed Zeevo as dead, and nothing confirmed that his soul had been freed from its marble, but it was a reasonable assumption. And as Zeevo very likely wouldn't be coming back in any case…

    Tears welled up from Arby's eyes - another thing Andre hadn't known was possible. "At least he's… at peace, you know."

    "Yeah."

    "But also… I wasn't done. I hadn't told him everything I was supposed to tell him. I wasn't done doing everything that I should have done with him. What if… what if he died thinking I still held a grudge over… all the pointless shit we fought about?"

    Andre crossed his arms with a sympathetic look. "Well… I didn't know him, but if I had to guess, he'd probably forgiven you deep down."

    Arby was quiet for a moment. "Do you have any brothers?" he then asked.

    "Three of them, yeah."

    "Are you close?"

    "Not terribly," Andre said, "but if anything happened to them, I'd certainly be upset. Especially knowing how it would hurt the rest of my family."

    Arby frowned. "Oh, the rest of my family…" He shook his head. "They're all either dead or strangers, but… Mom wouldn't have wanted this for her son, no." He paused. "She's kinda related to why we're here, actually…"

    "How so?"

    "It's a long story, but the gist is that things went really south for us financially when Mom caught shivers."

    "Shivers?"

    "You don't have shivers in Heaven?"

    Andre shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I mean, people shiver when it's cold, but this sounds like something else."

    "Oh. Well…" Arby sighed. "Shivers is a soul-disease. Drains the life from your soul-marble until it expires ahead of time. And makes your body shiver. That's why it's called that."

    Andre's eyes widened as he listened to Arby's explanation. "A soul-disease," he repeated, breathless. "Where did those come from?" Surely Arukei hadn't…?

    "Cooked up in one of the Devil Kings' courts," Arby said. "You know, as if they didn't make enough bullshit for us to deal with."

    "Okay…" Andre said. He was relieved that Arukei hadn't created such a horrible thing, but then again, he also hadn't done anything to remove it from Hell after quelling the Uprising.

    "So…" Arby said. "Can I continue?"

    Andre flinched. "Oh, yes, go on. I didn't mean to… yeah."

    "Alright. So, shivers. There are treatments, and we tried them, but they were expensive. And… they didn't even cure her. She passed away just a few months ago."

    "...I'm sorry."

    Arby nodded solemnly. "Anyway… even with money so scarce, we wanted to give her a proper funeral. But… funerals are expensive, too, and we just didn't have enough. But then we got an idea from this one TV show we'd watched, and we tried to… create some money through less-than-legal means."

    "Oh." Andre winced a bit, but also understood.

    "So, well, we then got caught for it. They hit us with this massive fine that we obviously couldn't pay. And when they finally came for our house, we kind of… lost it." Arby paused.

    "Lost…it?" Andre asked. "In what way?"

    "Well, it was just… everything coming down on us. It hadn't even been two weeks since Mom had passed. Then we pulled the scam, then we got caught, then we got that fine… shit was fucked, man. And we were gonna lose our home. Our home where we grew up, where she raised us. We couldn't…"

    More tears came from Arby's eyes, now flowing down his chitinous cheeks.

    "We couldn't let them take that away from us, not when we'd already lost everything else. So we got… difficult. Cops got called. Honestly, it was a miracle we didn't get shot."

    Shot for trying to keep their home. The worst of Earth was mundane in Hell.

    Arby continued. "But, well, here we are now. And once we're dismissed… I don't know. There's no place to go back to." He paused again, then continued with a breaking voice. "Though I suppose… it's easier to find a place to sleep when you only have one person to worry about."

    Andre was silent for a while. "I'm so sorry," he finally said, though he couldn't imagine it helping.

    Arby sighed. After a brief silence, he spoke up again. "Would it be okay if I told you some stories about Zeevo? I feel like that would… that would feel right."

    "Of course."

    "Thanks." Arby paused in thought, then leaned back. "I guess I could start early," he said. "Zeevo's first crush. He'd just barely figured out how to shift into his demon form - which, uh, demons learn when we're about five," Arby explained.

    So demons were born looking like humans? Well, that did explain how some of the spikier demons Andre had seen were able to be born. "I see."

    "Some of us insect demons, by the way, look different when we're young, like real insects. Zeevo looked different too - kind of like a big chubby large-headed white maggot."

    Arby said that wistfully, as if he found that adorable somehow. Andre certainly didn't, but he wasn't about to show disgust during an emotional moment.

    "I didn't look that different, if you were wondering. Since I'm a locust, and locusts…"

    "Undergo only incomplete metamorphosis, yeah."

    "You put it fancier than I would have, but whatever." Arby cleared his throat. "So there was this TV reporter on the afternoon news. Young blonde demoness, decently pretty, like you need to be to be on TV. One long horn growing out of her forehead. Can you picture it?"

    "Yeah?"

    "Well, whenever she came on and Zeevo was watching, he'd go silent and then go up to the TV and try to hug the screen with all of his little maggot legs. I remember Mom's laugh." Arby let out a chittering chuckle, but then his smile fell off. "Mom always had a pretty laugh."

    Andre's heart sank. Not only did Arby have to bear the loss of his mother from probably this same year, he now had to carry the emotional burden of Zeevo's death as well. And Zeevo… even if Andre couldn't find the idea of a giant maggot very cute, the anecdote made him realize something that should have been obvious - that Zeevo, too, had once been a child. A child that could never have imagined the tragic end he would eventually face.

    And that end… was Andre's fault, wasn't it? At least partially. If Andre had grown suspicious of Dmitri earlier, maybe he could have found something, some kind of clue he may have left behind… or simply pissed him off enough to beast out and get himself thrown out. Then again, Andre'd had no idea there was even going to be another disappearance or who Dmitri was or how violent he could be. But that latter part, like Mr Ronove had said, he should have figured out.

    He just should have done… something differently. Somehow changed the course of events to come. Somehow made it so that Arby would still have his brother, that Zeevo would still have himself.

    Arby separated his mouthparts to continue speaking, but just then, the door opened. A damp-haired Red stood in the door frame and eyed Arby and Andre with confusion.

    "Sorry," Red said. "Did I interrupt something?"

    Andre was about to answer, but Arby beat him to it. "No, it's fine," the locust-demon said, getting up. "I think I've talked enough for the day."

    "It's alright, Arby," Andre said. "I think Red can give us a few more --"

    Arby waved a hand. "No, no, like I said, it's fine. I'll… I'll tell you more some other time."

    "Well, is tomorrow alright, same time?"

    Arby smiled. "Yeah. That works."

    He then turned to the door and shuffled past Red awkwardly before leaving for… wherever he was going next. Red closed the door behind him and stepped in.

    "What was that about?" Red asked.

    "Arby just wanted to have a… personal talk," Andre said. "I shouldn't say any more. It's not my place."

    "Sure, that's fine," Red said, moving further in to tuck his gym bag underneath his bed while Andre got off it and sat on his own. "Though, um…" Red started again. "He didn't say anything about me, did he?"

    Andre shook his head.

    Red groaned quietly.

    "What?" Andre asked.

    "Guy could like, I dunno, apologize to me at some point."

    Andre frowned. "Red, he just lost his brother. He's got other things on his mind."

    Red sighed through his nose. "Fine."

    Andre shook his head and lay down on the bed. As Red lay down on his own and started reading, Andre's mind swam with the same thoughts as before. Thoughts of pity, then guilt and insufficiency…

    The village flashed in his mind again, and he shuddered.

    "You alright?" Red asked.

    "Oh, uh…" Andre glanced at the demon. "Yeah. Just… no, I'm alright."

    Red held a brief stare, but then resumed reading.

    That's good, a thought came to Andre. The less you make this about yourself, the better.

    Andre sighed. Maybe he should do some reading himself. Maybe it would take his mind off things.

    ---​

    Reading didn't really take his mind off things. Supper didn't either considering Arby sat right next to him, visibly sorrowful. So much so that Alice and Camila offered their condolences as well.

    The night passed and brought a new day in its wake. Head still full of Arby's plight, Andre waited impatiently for the next time he could see the locust. Maybe he'd be feeling better. Maybe Andre could feel better, too, without feeling so guilty that he was doing fine when Arby wasn't.

    But Arby wasn't there at breakfast.

    "Do you guys know where Arby is?" Andre asked the others.

    "Haven't seen him," Camila replied, and Alice and Red shook their heads as well.

    A terrible feeling bubbled up in Andre's chest.

    No, no. It was surely nothing, right? Arby was just late for one reason or another. There was no need to jump to conclusions.

    But he wasn't in health education, either. The teacher didn't know why.

    Right after class was dismissed, Andre made his way to Samson's office as quickly as he could. He knocked on the door.

    "Come in," said Samson.

    Andre slipped in and didn't dawdle. "Where is Arby Balson?"

    Samson looked surprised at first. Then, dread crept in. He turned to his computer and began typing. "Absent from both lessons so far," he said after some time. "No requests for absences. No messages from other supervisors." He got up. "I'll go report this to the other staff immediately. Stay here."

    Andre nodded and let the older angel slip past him and out of the room. After fifteen or so agonizing minutes of nothing, the familiar dings of the intercom rang out.

    “Arby Balson, report to Mr Ronove’s office,” spoke the woman who usually handled these messages. “Repeating: Arby Balson, report to Mr Ronove’s office.”

    From there, it was another thirty minutes before something happened. Samson returned.

    "Well?" Andre asked, his heart still beating in his throat.

    Samson gave him a look of dread before speaking.

    "I think he's gone."

    ---​
     
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