[6] Hazel Labonte Goes to Hell

[EPISODE 6: SUNSHINE]

Hell had always been the smallest of the four realms, with a landscape that had been painted only using red and black colours. There was no sense of a sky overhead like there was in the other four realms— just an impenetrable red fog that hovered nearly a kilometre above the skyline, enclosing the area like some sort of cave. The entire populated area was about the size of a larger city, with a towering forest of shiny black buildings making up the central hub, without any wretched suburbs to speak of. Large, crumbly black mountains void of any life stretched up on either side, embracing the demonic civilization in a sheltered hug. And a vast red ocean stretched along the city's waterfront, the empty red waters reaching endlessly beyond any line of sight. Truly, despite how small it was, Hell was quite beautiful in it's own way.

Nobody quite knew the story of the natural landscape. Everything had already been there when Lucifer first led the demons into the realm. They only built the city where it was convenient, leaving most of the area untouched otherwise. The mountains held a good amount of resources which could be harvested and then later put to use, but they were quite rough and always gave off a strange sort of steam as though they were hotter than the air. As a result, indigenous life had never cultivated there. But the mountains were still good for hiking and enjoying the view, so they were pretty popular among the citizens of Hell.

The ocean was equally as strange. Unlike the oceans of Earth, it had no moon (no Ophaniel) to affect the tides. And since the entire realm was basically one big closed off cavern, there was no wind so the ocean was always completely still. If one were to drop a stone into the waters, the ripple would echo outwards for eternity. Nobody knew what was on the other side of the water, or if there was an end at all, and nobody had the time or energy to find out. There was no life in the ocean either. In fact, they used the upper end of the beach as a burial site for the bodies of fallen demons, burning them and releasing them into the water. The ocean was almost a deity of its own, one that nobody knew anything about. Very odd and mysterious, but overall very benevolent.

The urban areas were quite nice. The streets weren't the same as the streets in human cities because demons didn't exactly need to drive cars. They were much wider, and none of them ever went in straight lines, weaving and curving wherever it was convenient to do so. Each open street and narrow alley was paved with pretty black cobblestones, and cleaned at least once every twenty four hours in order to match the sleek glass look of the buildings above. Despite the chaotic direction and lack of boxy colonial mindsets, the whole place was actually very organized in its own way.

As for the buildings between those streets, although quite a few were used for civil purposes, many of those glass buildings towering up overhead were actually just living quarters. They were apartments... in a way. All of those apartments were the exact same size and layout, as though they were built using a cookie-cutter. And every single demon, regardless of physical power or influence, was required to live in one, or at least have one listed under their name.

This was to make sure no sense of material superiority developed —or any superiority, really. Demonic culture was very much about aiding the collective. Since money and material lead to feelings of greed, which then inevitably lead to selfishness and narcissism, there was no sense of currency among the citizens of Hell. Their economy was measured in terms of resources and development. Everyone served the community not because they wished to gain anything, but simply because the community needed to be served. So everyone needed to work in the mines, clean the streets, fight in the war, distribute food, all that jazz. The system did not usually work for humans —who were too often susceptible to greed and a strange need to have everything now now now. But for demons, it had sustained society for well over a thousand years.

The only exception to the collectivist rule was the High Council of Hell. Election campaigns were the only times that anyone ever embraced individuality. Because demons had to run for office, they had to express their own skillset and show themselves off a little. But there wasn't any serious fanfare. Even if you were elected, you still had to obey all the cultural rules and written laws. You didn't get any special treatment for your service. You just helped the realm by working in a smaller team of political representatives, and if you did a good job, then everyone might just let you stick around a while.

Because of all this, demons had very strong laws and infrastructure designed for those who disobeyed such laws. But due to institutional vulnerability to corruption and tendency to develop unnecessarily aggressive and violent cultures, Hell did not have any sort of police system. Of course, there were rulebreakers. Demonic culture was FOUNDED on breaking rules, after all. So most disciplinary actions aired on the side of restorative justice —thanks to the influence of one Bentley Hellbourne— but such things as imprisonment and manual labor were not out of the question.

It was partially because of this that Hell had a sort-of interrogation room. It was similar to the ones seen in human police precincts, although it was a bit more lively, with windows and artwork and whatnot. Most of the time, it wasn't really used for interrogation. It was more like a therapy lounge, where individuals and groups would come to sort out their troubles in a proper legal setting if the conflict wasn't dramatic enough to reach a courthouse. And now it was being used for a very bewildered little human who had accidentally caught herself in the midst of a demonic investigation.

Right now, Hazel was seated across from Xander. Her fingers nervously tapped out a rhythm on the black steel table as she gazed out the window at the deep, red city landscape beyond. It must have been difficult for her to process what she was looking at exactly.

"So this is... Hell," She said after some time.

"Probably not what you were expecting, huh?" Said Xander.

"Honestly, I'm not sure what to expect anymore." Hazel shook her head.

Right at that moment, the door opened and Smythe slipped in, carrying two teacups filled with some strange, steaming drink. She gently set one in front of Hazel, and kept one for herself. Then she took a seat beside Xander.

"Then perhaps it's best not to expect anything at all," She told the human, "In our world, one can only predict the unpredictable,"

"I haven't even bothered predicting anything at this point," Hazel said, staring at her shoes, "Life is so different from how it was a week ago, I don't even know what's going on in the moment, let alone what's gonna happen in the future,"

"Well that's what I'm saying. Nobody knows what's going to happen in the future, so you might as well take it as it is,"

Hearing Smythe's words, Xander nodded silently.

"But enough of that. I'll cut right to the chase," She continued, "How were you able to control the souls of the dead?"

"I don't know. I really don't know."

Nodding, Smythe took a sip of her tea(?). Looking at her face, Xander couldn't quite tell if Smythe believed the human or not. But then again, Xander wasn't sure if he believed her either. He'd seen with his own eyes how she commanded the souls earlier. Even if she hadn't meant to, the whole situation was extremely suspicious.

"That's what I figured," Smythe said with a sigh, "So let's take it slow. You seem to be quite good friends with Atticus pash de Ophaniel,"

"He has nothing to do with this," Hazel said quickly.

'We'll see about that.' Xander thought to himself.

Ever since he'd seen Atticus and Bentley together on the security tapes, he had been very curious about the angel's nature. Obviously couldn't be trusted simply because he was an angel. But no matter how much Xander tried, he couldn't shake the memory of his drunk sister shielding Atticus as though afraid he would be hurt. Bentley and Atticus had always hated each other before. What had he done to change their relationship now? And what were his motives?

"Alright. What about Frances?" Smythe asked, "You also seem quite close with them,"

"We've only just met. They taught me a couple human magic tricks, but I haven't ever tried using them or anything. I really, really don't know,"

Xander pondered this for a moment.

"If you could control entire souls using human magic, someone would have done it already," He said casually. "So there must be something else. There must be something special about you,"

Hearing this, the slightest flicker of nervousness crossed the human's face. Maybe it was just the fact that Xander was naturally intimidating. Or maybe it was deeper than that. However, no matter what was going on in Hazel's head, she still spoke clearly and confidently.

"There's nothing special about me. I'm literally the most boring person ever,"

"Well I don't think so," Said Smythe, sounding rather like a kind-hearted therapist, "Xander doesn't either, right Xander?"

Xander just shrugged.

"We're just trying to figure this out before Heaven does," She explained, "After what you witnessed today, I'm sure you can understand why. So if there's any explanation for why you could do what no other being across the four realms has accomplished, please tell us,"

But Hazel did not reply. She just stared down at her untouched cup of tea in silence, refusing to meet either sets of eyes.

Realizing that they were getting absolutely nowhere, Smythe just gave up for the time being. She and Xander moved to the hallway outside, partially to talk privately among themselves, but also partially just to give Hazel some space. Though Xander wasn't exactly the king of sympathy, he could at least understand that the poor girl was probably a little traumatized by the whole ordeal. But he certainly wasn't the king of trust either so as soon as they were out of Hazel's earshot, he immediately started speaking.

"She's not telling us everything," He said.

"I know," Smythe replied, "But we can't force her to say anything if she doesn't want to. We're just going to have to be patient,"

Xander huffed out a sigh.

"Being patient has never been my strong suit. Especially not today,"

"You're worried about Bentley?" Smythe asked.

"Among other things,"

For example, the return of the actual Prince of Hell and the crazy angel hovering over his sister for no apparent reason. Back when Bentley first rose up out of the grave, he had anticipated some sort of ridiculous situation involving all four realms, he just never imagined that it would be so... convoluted. Now there were all kinds of people involved and his sister continuously kept him in the dark and refused to give him a shred of context for anything.

"In that case, go deal with whatever you have to deal with," Smythe said soothingly, "I can handle the girl,"

"On your own?"

"I'll call Eleazar up. She won't be able to ignore them,"

Xander nodded, thinking.

"And if Hazel was hanging around Atticus and Bentley, they must know something as well," He said, "I'll talk to them both next time I see them,"

"Sounds like a plan,"

...

Up in Heaven, there was another interrogation going on.

Uriah kneeled in front of Camael and Nathaniel, his body heavily bruised from the brawl earlier. The other two glanced up and down, silently evaluating the state of his injuries as he recounted everything that had happened down on Earth.

"So Atticus has defected from Heaven, hm?" Nathaniel asked, stroking his goatee.

"That is correct, sir,"

"It must have been an enchantment," Camael said proudly, "There is no reason for an angel like him to turn his back on us,"

"Are you sure about that?" Nathaniel glanced at her.

"Of course. We have always treated him well. We raised him, controlled him properly, and even rewarded him for his contribution to the war,"

"True. However..." He looked back down at Uriah, "According to your report, Xander Hellbourne actually encouraged you to collect Atticus."

"Correct," Uriah told him, "At first I thought he was provoking us, but afterwards when he defected, I started to doubt my initial judgement,"

Nathaniel went silent and chewed on this for a moment or two. Meanwhile Camael had maintained a firm expression of denial. Upon seeing her face, Nathaniel spoke again.

"What if Atticus knows something that we don't?"

"He hasn't even been in Heaven for the last century," She replied, "How could he know anything before we do?"

"If he were anybody else, I would agree with your logic. However, being the child of Ophaniel..."

He trailed off, thinking again.

"I'll ask Josiah to look into the matter,"

Camael nodded, and the room fell into a contemplative silence.

The story of Atticus' request for freedom was famous in Heaven. Back when Bentley Hellbourne was killed and the peace treaty began, he was offered a reward for his service. The archangel Gabriel had raised him up on a pedestal before thousands of angels to glorify his contributions and encourage others to see him as an example. However, when Gabriel asked him what reward he wanted, the reply was startling and simple.

"As a soldier, this humble servant of Heaven only wishes to rest,"

Those words were recorded in history. In that moment, Atticus could have asked for anything in the world. The Heavens would have granted him the power and status of an archangel if he so desired. But for some reason, he had asked to retire to the Earthly realm. For the past eighty five years, those words were paraded as an example of humility and self-sacrifice. Many angels even quoted it as a reminder to hold back one's pride when faced with more important matters.

But now, Atticus had properly defected from Heaven. He hadn't just gone into retirement, he had fully turned his back on the realm he once dwelt in on a daily basis. Now, as Camael and Nathaniel stood together in pondering silence, the question finally arose: was Atticus really just being humble all those years ago? Or did he have a deeper reason for leaving Heaven behind?

...