The other slaves filed out of the kitchen, carrying their platters and pitchers. Sweat beaded on my forehead as we entered the dining room.

I could see Giovanna and Satan sitting there. They were the only two at the table, though it seemed to be set for many people.

I set down the ennui-fruit pie. It was just my luck that I had to put it right in front of that woman herself.

“Well, hello, Amaro,” she said. “Good morning. How are you, my son?”

I heard small gasps and mutters from around.

“Fine,” I said. “Mistress.” I added that in with a slightly snarky tone.

“That’s nice,” she said. “I believe that I asked for whipped cream on this pie.”

My cheeks heated. She had not asked for that, not according to anyone in the kitchen. But what could I do? “I’ll get it right away, Mistress.”

“I do wish you’d call me ‘mother,’” said Giovanna.

“I’ll call you that when this hell we’re in freezes over,” I said quietly.

“That can be arranged,” came Satan’s deep voice. “I have enough power to make that happen.”

I looked at him. He smiled, his silver eyes holding mine, and then I turned and walked to the kitchen, feeling like any energy I had gotten from sleeping had been sapped by my interaction with that horrible woman and that creepy demon king.

I quickly walked out of the room and back into the kitchen. I quickly and hesitantly asked the webbed-handed woman if she needed any help. She shook her head, so I went back to Anton’s, Emryth’s, and my living quarters to check for more assignments on the assignment wall.

Anton and Emryth weren’t there, and I was thankful for that because I didn’t really want to socialize.

The next task was cleaning bathrooms, so I got to it. I didn’t meet anyone, and it was a mindless task that distracted me from my thinking.

The rest of the day was just one task after another. It wasn’t something I was unused to. I thankfully didn’t have to interact with Giovanna or Satan for a second time throughout it, and I was glad for that. I saw other slaves, but I didn’t talk with them.

At evening, my tasklist was done and I had brought a small dinner from the kitchen.

I just wanted to lie on the bed.

So I did.

Today wasn’t that bad. As long as I stayed out of the monster woman’s presence for the rest of my slavery, I’d be fine, right?

Well, except for that little problem…

The slavery was eternal.

My servitude to Giovanna was eternal.

I could perhaps feasibly stay out of her presence for a very long time, but she would come looking for me eventually. She always needed something from me. Work, perhaps. Someone to hurt when she was feeling angry. Someone to rape when she was feeling horny. I was the person she always used to satisfy her primal urges. And I was hers for eternity.

I began to cry. I’d cried so many times since entering hell. But it wasn’t like I had cried any less in life.

The door opened and I jumped up to see Emryth and Anton. Did those two go everywhere in pairs?

Seeing my face, streaked with black tears, they both froze.

“Yeah… I was like that too when I first got here,” sighed Anton before I could say anything. “Don’t worry, we’re not judging you.”

I quickly wiped away my tears.

“Uh…” Anton said, blushing. He rubbed the back of his neck and then loudly whispered, “Is Giovanna your mother?”

My blood (if I had that) ran cold. “W-who told you that?”

“Hearsay,” said Emryth. He smacked Anton’s shoulder. “Do not listen to Anton, he is far too curious for his own good.”

“Giovanna gave birth to me,” I said flatly. “But she has never been my mother.”

“I-I shouldn’t have pried, dude,” said Anton, his voice trembling. “That was mean of me and I’m really sorry. Please forgive me!”

“I’m not mad,” I mumbled.

I met his eyes. “I killed Giovanna. And I killed myself. That’s why I’m down here. I don’t regret killing Giovanna. But I’m never going to tempt someone else to commit murder like I did.”

Anton’s mouth was open, and Emryth was looking at the floor.

“Now, if you don’t have anything to say, I think I’ll take a shower.” I walked into the bathroom.

Showering with wings had always been a weird experience. They were sensitive--and not in a good way--which made cleaning them difficult, to say the least. But I was glad for yet another thing to distract me from my mind, because I did not want to have another crying fit…

“Hey, Amaro?” came a voice.

I yelped and turned toward the shower curtain. “Anton?”

“Sorry, I’ve gotta take a shower, I just realized I smell like horseshit,” came his voice from behind the partition. “But I want to say something.”

“Well, go ahead, then,” I said, as I heard the shower turn on next to my stall.

“Eternity is a really long time,” said Anton. “Especially as a slave to someone you abhor.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” I deadpanned.

“But for me, Emryth makes it worthwhile,” said Anton. “Eternity is unbearable if you stay alone. But when you have someone to share it with, it becomes a bit more bearable. When you have someone to trust and open up to, it can make even the worst things bearable. And if you keep staying clammed up like this, you’ll break yourself. Eternity doesn’t have to break you. Talk to us. We just want to help you.”

His words sank in. Maybe I needed that.

“I committed suicide,” said Anton. “When I got to hell, I had depression. Well, it vanished when I first entered hell, since depression is a physical as well as mental problem and you become fully healthy upon entering hell, but it came back right away. And I still struggle with depressive thoughts. But Emryth helps me. Emryth helps me through episodes I have, through my pain. Emryth makes my eternity worthwhile for me, and I’m thankful to him for it. Remember, Amaro. We want to be your friends. And friendship, love, family… that is what makes hell into bliss.”

“Family,” I said derisively. “My only family is dead. My friends have all left me. And love? Where would I get that?”

“Amaro,” said Anton, “there are many here in hell who understand what you’re going through. There are many people in any world who understand. You just have to find them.”

“I’m fine on my own,” I said coldly. “Thanks for offering.”

I heard a sigh and turned off the water in my stall.

I dressed and then went to the living quarters, where Emryth was swiping at the air, perhaps using his soul panel.

“I heard Anton,” said Emryth. “He is correct, Amaro.”

Emryth stood, and began pulling off his shirt. “If you want someone to talk to, we are both here.”

He slung the shirt over his perfectly sculpted shoulder, grabbed a towel hanging by his bed, and walked into the bathroom.

I clenched my fists and sighed. Maybe I should try weighing the pros and cons.

Pros to opening up to them: having shoulders to lean on.

Cons: what if the shoulder collapsed? What if they used my emotions to hurt me?

What if I just didn’t deserve them?

Heaven knew what I had done. Maybe I just did not deserve them. Anton and Emryth were amazing. From what I knew of those two, I didn’t think they’d hurt me.

But that didn’t change the fact that all other relationships--familial, friendship--had ended badly for me. What if I just messed up anything we made somehow? A friendship with Anton and Emryth--with anyone--wouldn’t end well for me. I couldn’t.

Besides, they didn’t deserve my problems, my stupid thoughts. They didn’t deserve to be trampled by me.

I laid down on the bed and turned to face the wall. I couldn’t sleep, even as I heard Anton and Emryth come back, their voices hushing as they saw me ‘sleeping.’

I still couldn’t sleep as they said their goodnights and clambered into their own beds.

I still couldn’t sleep as I heard their gentle breathing and those snores that were definitely coming from Anton because I was certain a delicate piece of perfection like Emryth couldn’t snore so loudly.

I still couldn’t sleep as the door to our room slowly opened. It was quiet, yes, but my ears had become very adjusted to small sounds over years of trying my best to hide from Giovanna.

I sat up in bed. “Who is it?” I asked. I heard stirring from the other beds.

The dark figure at the doorway froze for a second and then seemed to relax.

“Do you want to escape your slavery?” they asked in a soft voice.

“Whoozzah?” came Anton’s sleepy voice.

Light flared from the figure’s palm, illuminating them.

He was most likely male. He was tall and muscular, clad in a black one-piece suit, and a long tail swished behind him, somewhat agitatedly. A gun was clutched in his hands.

I guessed he was a teenager about my age. His features were handsome but also somewhat youthful, though the jagged vertical scar across his smirking lips and the stubble on his jaw made him look older. The left half of his head was shaved to a blondish fuzz while on the right side his hair was curly and spilled over his right, pitch-black eye. His ears were large and webbed.

From his back sprouted two white wings, glimmering in the light from his palm. Iridescence sparkled off of them, glimmering rainbows of color.

“Are you an angel?” I said in shock. Not only was he the most handsome boy I had ever seen (perhaps with the exception of Emryth), but his wings were as lovely as something that could only have come from paradise.

He winced and looked over his shoulder at the wings. “What? No, I’m a demon. I just… have wings--fuck it, forget that! Do you want to get out of slavery or not?”

“What do you mean?” I whispered.

“I can take you somewhere where those archdemons won’t find you," he said quietly. "Where you’ll be safe and won’t go back to slavery. But you have to decide right now, because the longer I stay, the more likely I am to be caught. I can rescue you from slavery. Do you want to come?”

Nothing could be worse than being a slave to Giovanna. I didn’t know who this hot guy was, or where he came from… but fuck it, I would do anything to get away from Giovanna.

“I’m coming with you.”

“Wait,” said Anton. “You don’t even know him.”

“I’m Bjorn Sorem,” said the boy in the same soft voice he'd been using. “Now we’re acquainted. You gonna come?”

“Come on, guys,” I said. “What could be worse than slavery? Maybe we have a chance to find something better with Bjorn.”

“Soul panel,” muttered Bjorn and his eyes glazed over. “I have about three minutes left. Choose now.”

Emryth scrambled out of bed, clad in only underwear (I averted my eyes), and ran over to the closet. “I will come with you,” he said.

“God, Emryth,” said Anton. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” he said, pulling on pants. “Please come with me, Anton.”

He was wearing only shorts, like Emryth, but didn’t seem to mind as he clambered down the ladder and walked over to us. Emryth stumbled over to Anton’s side.

“So,” said Anton. “Where to, Bjorn?”