Giovanna and Satan evidently owned a mansion. What else would they own, what with Satan being the ruler of the city of Satanoni?

It had many stories and was architecturally Victorian, though with Grecian columns on the porch. There was an actual door--the odd, filmy doors I saw frequently usually only were there for public venues--and it was really, really big. I wondered what manner of creature lived in this house. Apparently, people changed shape when entering hell. I’d grown horns, scales, and wings. Giovanna hadn’t changed much, though she seemed to have shark-like teeth now. I suspected Satan had never been human, so I didn’t dwell on him. That librarian back where I had been living was a dragon--did he just change shape a lot or did other beings beside humans go to hell too?

The interior of the mansion was… spacious. And white. White walls, white carpets, white tables--there were colorful tapestries on the walls but it was so colorless inside other than that. The lights, with bright white glows, were on, keeping the dim red sunlight (or whatever that strange celestial body in the sky was) out of the halls.

“Let me show you to your living chambers,” said Giovanna. “Satan, darling, where will you go?”

“I’ll just be doing work in the office,” he said cheerfully.

“Okay,” said Giovanna. “It’s just you and me, Amaro.”

I hated the way she said my name.

Apparently I had roommates. There was one regular bed and one bunk bed, and both looked used, the covers strewn and clothes hanging off the sides. The room was clean enough otherwise (I suspected it was the inhabitants of the room who cleaned it) and there was an ajar door in the back which apparently led to a bathroom. A communal bathroom, with curtain-separated stalls. Ugh... 

“Welcome to your new home,” said Giovanna. “Not much like our old home… but… well, you burned that down, remember?”

I felt the tears threatening but didn’t want to give Giovanna the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

“Your tasks at any given time are going to be on the wall,” said Giovanna, pointing to a blue glowing panel. Currently, it had something written on it about cooking. “You have two roommates and it is your guys’ job to figure out who does what.”

I said nothing. For a short time before, I’d felt the rush of feeling that there was nothing Giovanna could do to hurt me. But now the old fear was setting in.

“You don’t need to do any tasks for Satan and me as of yet,” said Giovanna. “Tomorrow you’ll have tasks. But for now, it’s time to have lunch.”

I didn’t even have breakfast, I thought.

“You, of course, will need to make your own lunch,” said Giovanna, smiling. “You’re a slave, not a member of this household.”

I was aware of that.

“The map of the house was sent to your soul panel. I’m off to have lunch. You can find the kitchen.”

And with that she left. I was glad to be out of her presence.

Did I want lunch? It wasn’t technically necessary, what with immortality and all.

I looked at the beds of my roommates and now I felt that social pressure, that nervousness of who I would meet, what they would think of me…

New people. Not my strong suit…

I wandered around the living quarters. There was a closet, but there didn’t seem to be clothes. Then I noticed the sewing machine and a large basket of white cloth.

Well… at least I wouldn’t outgrow my clothes. And I did know how to sew.

The bathroom, thankfully, was modern enough. I knew Satan was an archdemon, and as such had the power to literally make planets. Water bills definitely weren’t a problem for him.

I wondered what Giovanna was down here for. Now, she probably was down here for adultery. Or maybe for sleeping with the Devil. Or something. Who knew? I wondered what her demonic tier was. I didn’t exactly want to ask her.

I sighed as my stomach growled. I was hungry, and I guessed I would have to go cook something for myself.

What I was uncomfortable about was the fact that I’d probably have to enter the presence of Giovanna and Satan, and most likely my roommates as well.

I would just wait here. I’d have to meet my roommates eventually, but at the very least maybe I didn’t have to see Giovanna, too.

So I waited. I was tired. So tired from all the mental energy I had expended just from the sight of Giovanna.

Yet again I wanted to just cry.

But my demon body had other plans and soon I was slumped on the messy lower bunk of the bunk bed, fast asleep, not even caring it was someone else’s.

I woke up to someone gently touching my cheek.

I blinked away sleep. A face floated above mine. A boy. A pretty boy, at that. Pitch black eyes like all demons and… a gem on his forehead, a blue gem. He was touching my cheek with his fingers.

I immediately jumped out of bed and said, “I’m so sorry for using your bed! Please don’t—”

Please don’t hurt me. That was what I was about to say. I stopped myself from saying it. No need to let on how damaged I was at first meeting.

The boy tilted his head, and I couldn’t help but stare. He was pretty. That was certain. Ethereally pretty. Alienly pretty. A blue gem stood out from his forehead under his black bangs and his legs were shaggy and bowed, ending in hooves, like those of a goat, or satyr. A long hairless tail swished behind him, ending in a sort of pod emitting a weak but oddly intense light.

Another boy walked up next to him. The new boy had curly brown hair and a friendly smile on his face, which wasn’t super handsome but wasn’t necessarily ugly. He didn’t seem to have any strange, demonic traits like wings or horns.

“You have done no wrong,” said the pretty boy. “I can understand that the entry into slavery may be exhausting to think about.”

“It’s alright,” said the brunet, speaking the strange exotic language of hell with an apparent Texan accent. “We don’t really care who sleeps in whose bed. I mean, at the end of the day we all get tired and just end up in whichever bed, you know?”

“Oh… okay,” I said. “I, uh, I’m new, as you can tell.”

I found myself scanning the brunet’s body, looking for his demonic traits.

“My eyes are up here,” came a voice, and I looked up, turning red. He was grinning.

“Sorry, I just wondered…”

“Where my demonic disfigurements are?” asked the boy. “Like those cool horns you have, or like this guy’s satyr legs?” He nudged the pretty boy.

“Don’t show him your disfigurement,” said the beautiful boy, glaring.

“I wouldn’t!” protested the brunet. “What do you take me for?”

“Why?” I asked, confused.

“I have a glowing dick—” the brunet began and the pretty boy groaned loudly, cutting him off. “Be silent! You do not need to advertise it!”

“He asked!” said the brunet.

“No, he did not!”

“Wait, you have what?” I said.

“Nothing!” said the brunet cheerfully. Did he seriously have a glowing dick? Why was the pretty guy worried that the brunet would show his dick to me? Okay, maybe I didn’t want to know.

I did find myself looking at his crotch—

Okay, eyes up. No gay thoughts.

But I was just trying to see if I could glimpse the glow, said one half of my mind. Not, you know, perving on him.

Uh huh, said the other half. You were totally perving on him.

These two were the first boys my age (approximately) I had seen since entering hell. And now thoughts entered my head.

I would never fall in love with a boy. I might never have sex.

But what did I expect?

My dad’s love had ended with his death. I never had friends to love me, and my mother’s love was abuse.

I supposed I wasn’t cut out for love. That God’s plan for me didn’t involve happiness.

“Anyway,” said the brunet, “welcome to eternity!”

I swallowed nervously.

“You should not make humorous remarks about that concept,” said the pretty boy. Yes, ‘pretty boy’ was the only thing I could describe him as. He was so beautiful. Not… like… in the sense I was sexually attracted to him (well, maybe somewhat), but he radiated a beauty that seemed to overpower your senses. “It is a hard thing to accept.”

“You’re right, Emryth,” mumbled the brunet. “I’m sorry, dude. What’s your name?”

He seemed earnest, even if he was a little bit strange. I found that I liked both of them.

“Amaro,” I said. “You guys?”

“I’m Anton,” said the brunet.

“Emryth,” said the gorgeous boy.

“He’s an alien, by the way,” said Anton, nudging Emryth. Emryth grinned at Anton. Did I mention his grin was really beautiful?

Wait, an alien?

“I am from a planet that’s called Dysira in the galactic register,” said Emryth.

“Galactic register,” I said. “You’re kidding.”

“Why would I be making jokes?” said Emryth, looking puzzled.

Anton slung an arm over Emryth’s shoulder and pulled Emryth toward him slightly. “So… it’s evening now. Did you want dinner? I saved some. Mostly for if I got hungry at night but you can have it.”

“No, I shouldn’t take something you kept for yourself,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”

My stomach decided to growl at that moment.

“Amaro, don’t be so nice,” said Anton. “We’re in hell. Being a nice person only gets you so far. Be nice, yes, but don’t be too nice.”

“I… okay,” I said, blinking.

“We are all down here for something the Empress believed to be bad,” said Emryth. “Some of us have lesser crimes than others, but that does not change that many of us are cruel.”

“Especially those of us in slavery,” said Anton quietly.

“Wh-who’s the Empress?” I asked awkwardly.

“Oh, she’s God,” laughed Anton. “The Empress is what Dysirans call God. They believe God’s a woman and that she rules the universe as, well, an Empress. Dysirans think there’s a mysterious government ruling the entire galactic empire and that the Empress is the, well, empress of that government.”

“I could have explained that,” said Emryth, shrugging. “Also, we don’t think that, it’s true.”

“What really is true, anyway?” sighed Anton. “There was a time when I was a devout Christian. Now I’m not. There was a time I thought we were the only sentient beings. Now I don’t.”

“How long have you guys been here?” I asked.

“Four years,” said Anton. “Death at seventeen.”

“Oh, like me,” I mumbled.

“I have been hear for eight cycles,” said Emryth. “I died when I was thirteen cycles old.”

“I think eight cycles is about ten years in human terms, and thirteen cycles is about seventeen years in human terms,” said Anton. “Not sure. Dysirans have their own time measurement systems.”

“Eight cycles on Dysira is equivalent to ten cycles here in hell, yes,” said Emryth, “and the orbital cycles of Hell are equivalent to Geogarian orbital cycles, I believe.”

“Wait, what’s Geogar?” I asked, pronouncing it ‘gay-oh-GAR’. I was sure I’d heard that name before.

“It’s Earth,” said Anton. “Earth is called Geogar in the galactic register.”

“Whoa,” I said. “That’s cool.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Anton. “I gotta shower now. I’m sweaty.”