Alex looked down at the empty robes and the discarded dagger. Instinctively, he knelt to pick them up.
"I killed someone," he thought in his head.
The words should have carried weight, but they felt meaningless, drifting away into the sulfur-choked air. He waited for a surge of nausea or a tear of grief over lost innocence, yet he felt only a vast, cold emptiness.
He realized then that this was how the voices paid their rent. It was a parasitic mercy. Without them, the mere sight of a demon would have sent him into shock. He would have died ten times over from the sheer weight of the Abyss. They swallowed his fear so he could keep walking.
He stood up, the black dagger in his hand He turned his gaze toward the gate, where the Tiger-demon stood paralyzed, his spear-tip rattling against the obsidian floor.
"I'm coming in now," Alex said, his voice flat as he looked at the tiger creature. "Please move away. I really don't want to hurt you."
Sarithagriant jumped from the bridge, and Alex stopped under the archway.
The streets were packed with creatures, beautiful, magnificent, and fearsome all at once. He saw Serpentine demons with scales like polished emeralds slithering past hulking brutes.
Many wore bizarre, scavenged attire. He saw a rat-like demon strutting in a tattered velvet tuxedo several sizes too small, and a hulking brute with four arms who had fashioned a regal cape out of a dozen silk wedding dresses stitched together.
Some creatures wore heavy, embroidered robes that looked like they belonged in a palace, while others simply draped themselves in layers of cloth.
There were simple wooden stalls selling all kinds of colorful meat and bones; some even had flowers to sell, and they were mesmerizing to look at.
Right next to them stood grand, multi-story buildings made of polished obsidian and bone.
It was like he never left Earth. Some were chatting, some laughing, some brawling. Everyone had friends to talk to; who did he have to talk with?
If he were to just walk into that, a small, barefoot human in a sea of monst....
[Pathetic. Just utterly pathetic I'm leaving. I don't care. I would rather starve and die than sit here being force-fed the leaky pity and loneliness of a crying baby.]
[I second that. You're not just pathetic, you're a coward as well.]
Alex ignored them. His eyes were empty, fixed on the city, but his mind drifted elsewhere. He longed to burrow into the ground, curl up, and sleep a long, beautiful sleep, a long, beautiful sleep. A sleep where his head would finally be empty, How beautifully beautiful would that be?
But he couldn't. He was hungry, his stomach a hollow ache that mirrored the void in his chest. He was bleeding from his feet, each step on the stone leaving a faint, red smear behind him. He hadn't slept in days, and after the light on the bridge, he felt like he was slipping. Where was he slipping? He didn't know. Only that he was falling, and there was no ground beneath him.
Oh God… Oh Mighty… if You still hear me, deliver me. I don't belong in this place. I wasn't meant for the fire. None of this is mine.
Az‑Bogah… Great Hunter… forgive me. I'll take the bone, I'll sharpen my teeth. I'll be the monster You wanted. Just don't leave me here alone. I'll do whatever You ask, just don't abandon me in this pit.
[PATHETIC]
[Alex boy, You need to get your fucking shit together]
[My Liege, I suggest you close your eyes and take a deep breath. You will leave today. When the bat-demon comes, you will be free. You just need to hold on.]
[Comrades, this is a boy with a lot of past, but little present. And almost no future. Time to jump ship.]
Alex ignored the voices. His eyes remained empty, fixed on the shimmering purple towers, but his mind was a shattered mess of prayers and surrenders.
He didn't care about the Bat-demon or the contract anymore. He just wanted to be unmade But the sky remained a bruised, indifferent red, and the only hand on his shoulder was the cold, invisible weight of the Abyss.
"Dear child, what are you doing standing there all alone?"
The voice didn't hit his ears. It surged directly into the center of his skull, like an electric current sparking a dead engine back to life.
It took long, dragging seconds for Alex to restart the collapsing machinery of his soul, mind, and body before he could lift his gaze toward the creature addressing him.
She was a goat‑thing: upper body human, lower body goat, a face almost human but crowned with curling horns. In the crook of her arm she carried a basket of flowers, their colors impossibly vivid and beautiful.
"I… I'm just walking. Stay back. I don't want to hurt you, but I can, if I have to." Alex said, his voice sounding foreign even to himself.
The goat-creature tilted her head, her hooves clicking softly on the purple stone as she stepped closer. She reached into her basket and pulled out a single, glowing rose that pulsed with a soft, red light.
"What an odd thing to say, little one. Why would you want to kill me? And your feet... oh, they're so broken. Why don't you come with me? My house is just around the corner. I have elixirs for your feet and food for your stomach. Would you like that?"
Alex looked at her, his vision blurring. The words were spoken like a true demon, sweet enough to hide the hook. He found himself hoping she would make it quick, that she would find his soul delicious enough to end it fast. She would get her meal, and he would finally get his wish: a long, beautiful sleep in the deepest hole of all.
"Yes, ma'am," Alex breathed. "I would like that."