Chapter Three - Hope For The Damned

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   Hart woke up in his large bed to the sudden, unexpected heart-pounding realization that he was in hell and it wasn't a dream. A tall, beautiful gentlemen walked in front of his bed carrying a basket of gorgeous fruits Hart had never seen.

“A gift from Siren,” the man said, leaving the basket at the foot of his bed and disappearing through the double doors.

The basket had a note on the side, so he pushed the covers aside and crawled to the end of the bed, grabbing the little paper. He unfolded it and read it.

Hello, Prince Hartheon. I hope you had a good sleep. Please enjoy the basket of extravagant fruits from our world. I know you don't feel hunger like some of us do, but you'll enjoy the taste either way. - Siren.

Hart grabbed the bright red fruit, which looked like an apple, except apples didn't glow or feel soft like a marshmallow. As he climbed out of the bed, he took a skeptical bite of the fruit and immediately grimaced. It wasn't bad, just sour – in a tasteful kind of way. It was as juicy as an orange and sour like a strawberry. But neither flavors could match what his taste buds were tasting. It was a new flavor and smell to his senses.

“Can any of you take me to Siren?” Hart asked the humans in his room as his armor appeared back on his skin.

The humans pointed down the hall but they didn't move to guide him. Hart saw nothing down the hall, just darkness. He began to walk out of his room and all of the sudden felt dizzy as he appeared somewhere else that wasn't the hall with the huge windows that overlooked the city.

“Hartheon,” said voices he didn't recognize.

While he blinked hard to get the dizzy feeling out of his eyes, he saw figures getting taller in front of him. The figures were completely dark, he couldn't tell what they were.

“Sorry about that, transportation between doors can be a little nauseating,” Siren said.

Everything cleared and Hart saw that the tall figures were only tall because they had gotten out of their seats. Hart was in a windowless room and it would have been impossible to see anything if it weren't for the fireplace.

In front of the fireplace was a long black table and twelve seats. All of the seats were occupied, except they were all standing now, watching Hartheon with curious eyes. These . . . figures, were not human. They had human looks but were entirely something else. There were many creatures and monsters in hell, many who looked like ordinary humans but were not.

“Would you give us a moment?” Siren asked the others.

None of them refused, just bowed their heads and silently vanished into thin air.

“Where did they go?”

“It doesn't matter now, what can I help you with, Hartheon?” Siren said, smiling widely, which kind of terrified him.

“I'm going to search for my friends,” Hart reminded her. “It's the only reason I'm here, so I don't see why I shouldn't start now.”

“Oh,” she replied, smile gone. “I was hoping you could stay a little longer, I'm having a meeting with The Dhark Clan and I wanted you to attend.”

“I'm sorry, I cannot,” he told her.

“Surely your friends can wait?”

“Nope,” he simply said, smiling this time.

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