Entanglement

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Dan POV

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After the confrontation with Phil, nothing new happened for two months.

I woke up every morning, put on my same black clothes I wore each day, locked up my living house, walked down to Find Headquarters, talked with Troye and PJ, then went to Earth and killed my daily quota of humans. I experienced no encounters with angels, and only some with cruds. I figured Heaven was taking even more humans to make angels instead of cruds, enjoying the fact that we couldn't do the same with demons. Every day, I was angry. It almost felt like it was the only emotion I could feel anymore. If not angry, I felt empty.

Despite the fact I had specifically told Phil to stop trying to be nice to me, each day that passed without me speaking to him made my frown droop lower.

The two months were boring. I knew it was how all of my years in Hell had been spent before that day with the Almost cruds and the building, but when sudden excitement was brought onto my repeating timeline of a "life", it was hard to return to the worthlessness I was and my work was. Tyler barely spoke to me if I wasn't with Troye, and there was no news with the angels; not that I would be told about it anyway.

Phil had been this lightbulb lighting up the black room I spent all of my time in. Even if annoying, I had to admit he had been a car driving me off of the road of my usual existence, with arguments and sarcastic comments and his bright blue eyes. It was almost like I missed our unusual conversations, almost like I missed his smile when it was directed at me.

Okay, this was just my boredom speaking. I hated that guy.

Another day came, and I repeated my routine. I got out of bed, rolling off of the hard, dusty mattress, and stood with a tenseness in my limbs and my jaw. I opened my closet, eyed the fourteen black t-shirts there, and picked the third one from the left. I opened my dresser and stepped into the sixth pair of black jeans. It was completely silent, not counting the sound of explosions a couple of roads down, most likely caused by cruds doing stupid shit or bored Finders blowing up things since that was fun to demons, and no one got in trouble for it.

My feet, covered with black boots, took me outside, and I turned to lock my door, knowing it wasn't good to leave your shit unlocked in Hell, even if I didn't own anything except my clothes. There was nothing to own; I couldn't feel sentimentality, and it wasn't like I could just pick something up from Earth and take it back here with me. Most human things burned up here, and, I mean, why would I want anything?

With my arms crossed, I walked the exact path that I had walked every single day for all of my years of being here, avoiding contact with everyone else as I went. Caspar wasn't here to walk with me today, but I didn't ponder on it for too long, suspecting he just had something more important than me come up.

Since we were of the lower ranks, our Headquarters weren't that far away from the living houses. If I was a Sender, I would sure have a lot of walking to do every morning. Worth it.

Troye was already standing there, scanning his surroundings with dark grey eyes that focused on me the second I was in his vision. He'd once told me they were blue before he died.

"Ready to re-experience the exact same day we did yesterday, and the day before that?" He scowled, and I returned the look. Even before our meeting with the angels, life had been more interesting than this. We'd had missions. Now, Connor didn't even need to Send us anymore. He just counted how much food we brought in from wherever he was in the Main offices.

"So exciting," I responded with obvious sarcasm dripping from the words. "Do you-"

"Dan!" I heard my name being called from somewhere above me, and immediately lost track of what I was saying as I looked up in confusion.