In one of the innermost chambers of Hell, in the office reserved for the warden, Lucifer sat on a towering monolithic chair.
In front of him, on the stone table that stretched deep into the walls on both sides, papers on the billions of inmates he was tasked to oversee were piled.
"Fine décor."
A creature with sagging gray skin phased through the door and walked into the room.
It looked around, its hollow sockets for eyes bearing nothing but darkness.
"Satan," Lucifer acknowledged as his guest, leaning heavily on one foot, limped forward. "Why have you co here so soon after our... latest adventure?"
Satan smiled a creepy smile, flashing his finely filed set of teeth. "I thought you’d be interested to see what happens next."
The warden pulled up his prescription glasses and stared into the empty sockets his comrade called eyes, searching for anything resembling pupils.
"I have business to take care of. Hell doesn’t run itself."
"Co now." Satan laughed. "Why so formal?"
His smile turned crooked as he glared.
"You don’t need to do all those things. God is dead."
Lucifer shook his head in apparent distaste. "And you think that’s any reason to abandon our stations?"
Satan sneered. "You are not a human, not an office worker! What reason do you have to sit in that chair, pretending to be a custodian?"
He looked around the room.
"You don’t have to do this anymore. We don’t have to."
Fire spread on the table, which looked more like an altar, burning the papers. "What do you suggest?"
Lucifer’s voice was low, almost like a growl.
"The war ended so long ago." Satan inched closer. "Why then, pray tell, are we still waiting down here in Hell? You complain about boredom but refuse to take action when the angels are weakened? What happened to your hatred for the Heavenly Host?"
He leaned over the burning table, his head surrounded by flas.
"What about the Archangels? What about Michael? The rest are cowards, but him—I’ve always hated him!"
His seething voice turned into a lulling whisper.
"We don’t need to stay down here anymore. So, let’s end it. Let’s end those feathered beasts."
The orchestra of spectral n and won hanging from the ceiling ca to a halt. One by one, their bodies lit on fire and faded into the void.
Slowly, Lucifer opened his mouth. "Their lord may have fallen, but they are still strong."
"So, what? If we leave them to recover their strength, sooner or later, they will wipe us out. If..." he trailed off.
Sothing in Lucifer’s behavior had caught his eye.
"Is there sothing you’d like to explain to ?"
Lucifer wove his fingers together, sorting his thoughts.
"The struggle between our kinds is inevitable. Although it was not my intention," he said after a while, "but I’ve ensured that."
He stood up from his chair and opened the door to a realm that was untouched by any other demon.
"I killed the angel of Peter’s Gate, so ti ago."
***
The little girl was smiling, which was rather sweet for those witnessing the encounter between the actor and his young fan.
But to Averie, it was a disaster.
He was currently facing an urgent dilemma.
To pee, or not to pee, that was the question.
Such profound philosophy, unanswered and unresolved, was a difficult thing to endure for a fledgling mind. But Averie’s soul was no simple thing. It had endured the depths of Hell and climbed out sowhat intact.
Contemplating life’s discourses? Averie could do it.
Subscribing to an ideal yet unexplored? Averie could do it.
Peeing his pants while being recorded? Averie could do it.
But should he?
That remained the only strand taut between his thought and action.
The young actor signed a piece of paper, courtesy of the receptionist, and handed it to the girl.
"Thank you," she said, smiling ear to ear.
He wanted to leave right away, but the girl wouldn’t shut her mouth. Averie had no idea what she was saying despite her impeccable grasp of the English language. His mind was fully focused on his stretched bladder.
After what felt like an entire hour, Averie found himself back in his room.
"Lord is good..." he sighed as the sound of liquid hitting liquid echoed in the washroom.
Only after zipping his pants, washing his hands, and winking at his reflection in the mirror, did Averie realize that it had only been fifteen minutes since the girl approached him.
"A full bladder is a truly fascinating thing. It even distorts ti."
He sent Hyerin a ssage and threw himself on the inviting bed that was as soft as a newborn’s bum.
Millions of thoughts ran rampant in Averie’s mind, fighting for dominance, hell-bent on deciding which one the young actor should address first.
At the sa ti, Hyerin—who was rushing back to the hotel—stopped in her tracks.
"Wait," she said to Min-Ha.
Her phone was vibrating.
"Averie sent a ssage."
A mont passed.
Then another.
"What does it say?" Min-Ha asked. "Is everything alright?"
With a face devoid of any emotion, Hyerin turned her phone screen towards her colleague.
Yo.
While the beauty sleeps, the pair of hobos should litter the streets.
PS: I am the beauty, and you are the hobos. Also, buy so pastries or sothing.
***
As his feet landed on the gray surface of the liquid, Satan gasped in awe.
Before him stretched a bluish-pink sky.
The lifeless expanse of murky gray and the otherworldly firmant seed to be endless.
Satan’s hollow gaze bore into the very essence of this place.
"There is a trace of divinity mixed in," he said, his shriveled fingers pointing upward. "The angel was here."
He turned to Lucifer.
"Why did you kill it?"
"You are upset that I killed it?"
"No." He shook his head. "I am curious."
"Among the countless reasons," Lucifer whispered, almost as if he were chanting a prepared answer, "the existence of this place was what drove to end him."
Satan accepted that answer without resistance. "What do you call it, this new domain?"
"Lilith’s Womb."
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