Black tears fell from my black eyes as the realization I was trapped in hell set in and crushed my soul. Well, whatever I had that resembled a soul.

I was here forever. 

And so was my mother.

I wondered if I could ask the receptionist where my mother was.

But what would I gain from knowing? Just going about life like I was right now would be fine. This city of hell was big, and it was filled with beings who had died, trillions of beings since the beginning of... well, whatever worlds they came from, if Earth wasn't the only one.

I hoped I'd never cross paths with her.

But perhaps that was too much to hope for?

I stumbled to the bed and collapsed on it, right on top of those large brown wings sprouting from my back, and immediately fell asleep, because apparently now as a mystical demon I still could be exhausted.

I woke up later, and the time on the clock next to the bed said it was around noon. I was pretty sure I'd died in the evening. 

I looked at the sky. It was still that dim red color it was when I first got here; only the position of the weird sun had changed.

Apparently I had to pee. Even as a demon.

After brushing my teeth, showering, and changing my outfit to another clean identical outfit, I went down to the lobby and to the receptionist. I was hungry. For what I did not know. What did demons eat?

"Hey," I said to the receptionist, same as yesterday. "Do you know... where I can get something to eat?"

"There are cafes down that way," she said pointing to my right.

"Thanks," I said hesitantly.

I exited the lobby and then dashed back inside.

"What do I use to pay?" I asked the receptionist nervously.

"Your soul," she said.

"What?" I sputtered.

"The monetary register will recognize your soul pattern and perform a proper transaction using tsrakha," she deadpanned.

"Tsrakha?" I asked.

"The currency," she said, still not even bothering to look at me, only focused on that glowing computer-thing.

I walked outside, back into the noise and hustle of the city. What did demons eat? Please don't tell me it was, like, human souls and blood or something.

Though maybe I deserved something like that. My mother was morally reprehensible, yes... but I had been the cause of her death. I had as good as killed her. I had done something terrible.

And even if I hated her, I felt remorse.

But I might have created something worse. By killing her, I must have sent her here, and now she was still existing, down in this realm of hell.

I walked into the cafe. It was a huge building with a lot of people. Immediately I felt sweat (demonic sweat?) bead on my forehead as I took in the numbers.

There were floating tables and chairs, and many sets of steps (also floating) leading to them. I could see the line for food and didn't know if I wanted to wait in it. Tough out the hunger pains or stand in a line surrounded by people and... order by myself? I wouldn't die of hunger...

My stomach clenched and I sighed. I needed food. Whatever the food was.

I stood in line, keeping my head down and avoiding eye contact.

The menu options didn't look horrific. They were a bit weird though.

Do I want an anger milkshake or a happy-fruit salad? I thought. Or perhaps a despair ice cream sundae.

When I got to the front desk, I quickly said, "Envious pancakes, please."

"Would you like the anger-berries on top?" said the cashier, a tall muscular man in a butler-style suit with gold horns and large, drooping ears. His face was open and friendly--it wasn't super handsome, but it wasn't ugly either. Something about his expression felt really trustworthy.

"Y-yes," I mumbled. Those names... 'anger' berry. Wow.

"That'll be seven tsrakha," he said. "Would you like me to perform the transaction?"

"Yes," I said.

"Sorry, you didn't say that with enough conviction," said the cashier. "Are you absolutely sure?"

"Uh, yeah," I said, blinking in confusion. "Of course..."

"You're new to hell, aren't you?" said the cashier.

I blushed. "...Yup."

"It's perfectly fine to feel confused and awkward," he said, smiling slightly. "Remember, every transaction in hell is a deal with a demon. And when doing those you have to be totally sure of what you want."

"Thanks..." I mumbled awkwardly.

"No problem," he replied. "Now, are you sure you want an envious pancake with anger berries?"

"Yes," I said firmly, my stomach's painful clenches making it very clear to me what I needed.

The cashier smiled crookedly and turned around, reaching for something. He passed me a plate of what at first glance appeared to be pancakes with red berries on top.

As I took the plate, I realized the pancakes had almost no weight and were sort of... ethereal. They seemed to be slightly translucent and smoky, their outlines flickering.

"Hey, uh..." I looked at the cashier's name tag. "Joseph." My voice was timid and I was certain for a second he hadn't heard me.

"Yes?" said the cashier. 

"Why are the pancakes..."

"Oh," said Joseph. "Yeah, we demons eat emotions. You'll get used to it. Just suck it up like... do you have Jell-O where you come from?"

"Y-yeah," I said. 

"Yup," said Joseph. "Suck it up like Jell-O."

He paused for a second and then pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled something on it.

"Here," he said. "This is my number."

"Oh..." I said. "Thank you?"

"If you have questions..." Joseph paused. "Okay, so here in hell everyone has a sort of 'soul panel.' If you say 'Soul Panel' out loud you can pull it up. Your soul panel will allow you to call me using that number."

"Thank you," I said, blushing. "That's really nice of you." I felt tears prick at my eyes because this was something I just wasn't used to. I swallowed and tried to suppress them.

"Don't mention it," said Joseph, smiling. Then his smile faded. "But remember. This is hell. Everyone here has done something that our darling deity up above considers wrong. For some people it's a small thing, like having sex outside of marriage or not believing in that self-obsessed deity upstairs. For others... it's not as benign. This world is full of murderers, liars, and insane people. And everyone here has magic powers, even just a little bit. I'm being nice to you, but don't expect everyone to be. This is hell, after all."

I nodded. I didn't know what to say. I should have expected. I was here, and I knew why. Because I killed my mother, and killed myself. Murder and suicide. Two of the greatest sins in Christian theology. 

And I had always thought a lot of those Christian sins were idiocy. I'd lost faith when my mom had started abusing me even as she went to church like people would expect of a good Christian woman. And I had seen flaws in the religion...

But even though my idea of sin wasn't really my mom's, I still believed murder was wrong. And I knew that what I had did would haunt me.

"Look, kid," said Joseph. "Hell's not a terrible place. The government provides for us and we can work and get education. There are a ton of rules, I guess... but it keeps the criminals ordered. Because that's what a lot of the people here are."

I nodded and smiled fakely.

I was a criminal too.