Something strange happened as the three of us—Jack, me, and whatever hive mind abomination had been annoying us earlier—kept advancing, walking deeper into the hall than I'd expected to be possible. Almost ten doors down (doors that were separated by about 100 feet of blank wall, mind you), everything seemed to get...darker. Symbols on the plaques decorating several doors on my right were obscured. My arms started sprouting goosebumps, and the only thing I had to guide me were the pockets of light provided by other halls off to the side and the sound of Jack's footsteps. I could still see him, more or less; but the surrounding space was a new kind of void, blackened to the point where I wasn't even sure if we were still in the demon realm. This felt like the prelude to a nightmarish world, somewhere beyond the sobered numbness these creatures had been living in.
Jack halted and I dove to the side, my hands finding a corner I could hide behind if he ever looked back. I peeked out of the side hall to find that he already had. I quickly pressed my back to the wall, praying that my heart wasn't beating as loud as it sounded in my head.
"...hello?"
I held my breath, my heart leaping into my throat at the single step I heard being taken towards my hiding place. After a moment, Jack sighed in defeat.
"Just let it go, dude, let it go..." he muttered. I could almost see him rubbing his jaw dejectedly, his thinking face on. "God, I'm really losing it."
"Maybe you are, maybe you are—!"
"Shut up," he growled at the chorus of chirps that surrounded him for a split second. I swore I heard one of them right by my ear, but when I turned around, nothing was there. I returned to stalking and nearly heaved a sigh of relief when he turned to enter a room on the side, the annoyance in his voice palpable as he said,
"I really hope this is worth having to listen to these fuckers for five minutes, 'cause those are some five minutes I'm never getting back."
I imagined him holding one of the fairy-like creatures by the scruff of the neck like you would a misbehaving kitten, and stifled a laugh. When I reached the doorway, that really was all I could do from there; imagine. From what I was able to see, the room was grand and spacious but disappointingly empty, as if whoever inhabited it was preparing for a renovation. Besides my less-than-ideal view of the place, I could see Jack, pacing around and keeping his hands locked where they were like he was barely holding himself back. There was nothing else visible there—then again, I was careful not to look any further past the sliver of a view I had into there. But even though nobody else seemed to be with him, I heard another voice. A quiet, raspy, intrusive voice that felt like it was crawling deep into the folds of my mind.
Chernobog.
"We give you some freedom. Far more than you deserve, but we give it to you. And this is how you pay us back?"
"Do you think I wanted this to happen?!" Jack threw his hands up, the tension that had been building up within him exploding. "Would you like me to just, un-meet them? Because if you have the power to pull something like that off, I'll gladly do it."
"Don't get smart with us, Jack. You'd do well to keep in mind exactly what the consequences are if—"
"No, I mean it," Jack said, clearly not meaning it at all. "Please. By all means, show me what I can do to fix all this. I'd like to know. I mean, it's not like I'm human or anything."
"No. You're not. Remember your place."
What's with all this "we" and "us" talk? Is...is there more than one of him?!
"Oh, that's real nice. I might be dead, but that doesn't mean you can just—"
"Of all the people, boy...of all the people you could have fallen in love with, you choose a healer."
"I didn't choose this! Who do you think I am?! What do you think I am, you still don't understand me, anyway!"
"Mind your tone."
A healer...? My mind flew to the one other person I knew in this place, and for some reason I felt a soft but painful sensation in my chest. Nyx?! But he hates her. What are they even arguing about?
"Whatever. It's not like you're trying to do anything about it, either, you probably don't even know who it is." He stuffed his hands into his pockets like that was the end of it.
"We can guess." There was an unsettling pause. "Is it the one listening to us outside this hall?"
—
I didn't hesitate in getting the hell out of there once he said that.
Even through the sound of my heart pounding in my ears as I ran, I could still make out scuffling and a groan of exasperation in that room, and turned a corner just in time.
"Nyx? I know that was you. Mind your own fucking business for once, is that so hard?!"
Jack was probably peering out into the hall, but didn't bother checking any further. I could almost see him digging his nails into the wall and scrunching up his face before heading back inside, in usual annoyed-Jack fashion. I was about to sigh when I realized they probably would have heard that, and began walking away with my head low and my eyes wide in panic.
Nope. Not today, not listening in to one more conversation with that demon. How did he even know I was there? I held that thought in my mind for quite a while, but didn't try thinking up an answer. My only objective for now was to head back to wherever I was supposed to be and act like nothing ever happened.
Stupid thing sees through walls. Definitely reads minds, too. I'm not messing with that shit, not again.
After a long walk of shame, I arrived at my sorry excuse for a room and sat down on whatever surface was closest to the door. Gripping the edge of the table and taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and tried to organize this new information—at least, in a way that would make any sort of sense to me.
"He...likes Nyx? That—well, to put it simply, no. That doesn't add up. He's either a really good actor or just a complete dick when he's in love." I tilted my head and focused on a crack in the wall near the ceiling.
"I guess that part adds up; he was already a little mean to me, and we're just friends. I mean, I do it back, of course, and we still help each other, and he's been really considerate lately..." I scoffed and tried fighting back a smile. "Ha. If anything, he should be in love with me. But his enemy? The sister of the girl who would've killed him for good, if his boss hadn't found him? I-I don't get it. He hates her, she hates him." Several tiny waves of emotion started crashing over me, one at a time. My breathing became unsteady, and the pain I felt in my chest came back with a vengeance.
"Why do I care? No, that's a stupid question, I don't care. I shouldn't. It's his life—well, not-life—and I need to leave him alone." I was starting to glare at the wall for no good reason. "But I'm not doing anything. I'm just thinking. People are allowed to think, right? I'm allowed to think that they're not good for each other, I just can't say anything, it might hurt his feelings, or..."
All of a sudden, soft footsteps started coming closer to my room, and I realized that I hadn't closed the door. I jumped up from my seat and nearly took the poor thing off its hinges pulling it shut. The footsteps stopped outside, right in front of my doorway as if they were trying to make me more uncomfortable. After a short moment that felt like forever, the person sniffed and muttered, "Hm. New human," in the worst possible tone of voice. One that said "murder" loud and clear. At least it's not Jack, I found myself thinking. If the creature could hear my thoughts, they didn't show it; only sniffed again and walked away as if I wasn't worth their tormenting.
When I was sure they were far enough down the hall, I said to myself, "Maybe hurt feelings are the least of his problems."
—
I spent one more week like that, trying my best to mind my own business and failing spectacularly. For days on end, whenever I got another one of Nyx's "breaks" so that she could work privately, Jack never seemed to be there. At least, not for more than a minute. Something always came up, he always had to complete another vague task his boss assigned him—some days, he just flat-out disappeared on me. I felt something crawling under my skin at the notion that he had probably been told to kill someone on those days. Hell, every day, whenever his boss told him to "come here" right as we were about to say hi to each other. I accidentally overheard some words exchanged on one of my breaks that managed to send a chill down my spine:
"Don't forget, boy, you're making up for lost work."
Because Jack had spared me, others were dying in my place.
I mustered the energy to lift a hand and knock on Nyx's door, far from awake. I'd skipped breakfast to be there—she wanted to see me today at 4:00 in the morning. I still didn't quite have a grasp on how time worked here, as with each morning I entered the woods for an hour, I came back out around evening time. But early was early, and I couldn't be blamed for showing up at the wrong time if time itself had little meaning here.
"Ah! Perfect. Uh, sorry to make you walk all this way, but we're actually holding off on lessons—goodness," Nyx remarked, her voice wavering the slightest bit as if she didn't want to offend me. "You look...are you alright, Sawyer? I could make some porridge if you're not feeling your best—"
"No. I-I'm fine. What were you saying about no lessons?" I stifled a yawn as she looked at me with increasing skepticism. I had no idea how awful I must've looked, and no intention to find out. Nyx pointed awkwardly back out the hallway and to a grand, intricately-carved and near royal set of doors directly across from us.
"I'm just the messenger. Highest wants you to report to HTA for...well, I suppose it explains itself." Before I could ask what the hell HTA stood for and exactly how much she thought I knew about this place, she gave me a wide, encouraging smile and slammed the door in my face.
"Good luck!" I heard muffled from inside.
"...thanks."
I sighed and started walking towards the needlessly huge doors, their intimidation starting out as a pinprick and spreading like sickness through my blood with every step. I couldn't spy a knocker anywhere, nor were there handles of any kind. Drawing in a deep breath, I pushed open the double doors to find what looked to be a regular office hall.
Excuse me?
Those letters, HTA, hadn't given me much of a magical, occult-ish vibe to begin with. But what in actual hell was this.
Left with nothing else to do, I walked inside. The doors automatically shut behind me, creating a gust of wind strong enough to shake a bodybuilder off their feet. I braced myself on a wall, surprised at how close they were to me now that the doors had closed. I looked behind me. There was a single, basic, regular-sized door like one to a school's guidance office.
Pocket dimension, I guessed, my puny human brain scrambling to find some sense of familiarity in all of this. Something grounded in science and reality. The hall seemed to narrow more and more as I walked down, almost like a funnel until there was only about a foot of space on each side of my body and my head was dangerously close to touching the ceiling. I reached a door at the end, not unlike the one that appeared behind me after I'd been sealed into this place, and rested a cautious hand on the knob. Nothing sparked, or jumped out, or otherwise harmed me like I'd expected. It was just a doorknob. I took a deep breath and opened the door, hoping this was the place I was meant to be right now.
A typical, if not unnaturally clean locker room seemed to unfold before my eyes as the door creaked open. It was as if some outside force was meant to randomly generate a room based on who was stepping inside, like a laggy Room of Requirement. I edged forward, tapping the floor with my foot just to make sure there was actually something there. Solid tile; I wouldn't fall to my doom if I dared to go inside.
A blast of hot, dry air whipped my face when I stepped forward again, and I staggered back, my mouth agape. Maybe I'd expected steam to be pouring from this room—its appearance reeked of "traditional high school gym locker." But dry, desert-like wind that nearly burned my skin off? I was about to shut the door and wait outside for the room to stop throwing a temper tantrum at me when somebody cleared their throat.
"Wouldn't do that if I were you."
It was an unfamiliar voice that had a jarringly medium tone to it, like the culmination of a thousand humans' vocal ranges mixed together. I peered into the locker room, looking around with narrowed eyes. After a while, the person sighed.
"Look down."
It surprised me that the voice hadn't said "down here," though their tone gave a very strong impression that they wanted this to be over with. Like, I'm short, get used to it. I dropped my gaze to the floor and saw what looked to be a small child dressed in all pink fluff; their skin was fair, their blonde hair worn in neat, shiny curls, and the clothes...
I raised a finger to say something but the kid sighed again and made a "zip it" motion, pulling a clean scroll out of thin air and beckoning me forward.
"Edith. Accounting chain, line four in god-knows-how-many, demoted to HTA." The demon, if one could even call her that, waved her hands mockingly and averted her gaze to the side, as if she had only been informed of her demotion about five minutes ago. She was clad with a pink and cream dress bearing an unholy amount of frills, a wide-brimmed hat tilted to one side of her head, and tiny dark shoes like what a 1900s school girl would wear.
"Well? Come inside. Can't have any of the air escaping, our department's being squeezed dry to pay for it."
I timidly stepped inside, and the door slammed behind me in the same manner that the giant, royal ones down the hall had. Before I could ask what I'd been called here for—if I was even in the right place to begin with—I heard an annoyed groan from behind me as the door reopened, and turned to see Jack trudging in with his eyelids shut.
"Gee, can't wait to see which asshole will be monitoring..." He opened them up and stopped dead when his gaze fell on Edith, confusion and surprise overtaking his face. "Oh. Wait, I don't know you."
Edith sighed yet again, scrawling something completely illegible on the top of the scroll. "Way to make a first impression, then, Highest Junior." She raised her head with a mock-thoughtful look, tapping the pen on her chin. "Hold on, should I even call you that? You are only half-demon, after all. Such a shame he has to associate himself with you..."
While Jack looked like he was considering attacking a child with his bare hands, Edith let out a tired chuckle as if that was the most fun she'd had in years, and turned around to lead us further into the room.
"I suppose you must be..." She narrowed her eyes at a line of small text at the scroll's end, though it seemed to be written in another language. "...S. Rafael? The human? Please speak now, or I'll assume there's been a mistake."
I scoffed despite myself. "So they couldn't even be bothered to write my full name." Is the "Highest" always this rude to humans, or does he still think my name is Samuel?
"Present," Edith said under her breath, almost begrudgingly. "And...Eyeless Jack! Oh, I forgot about that part," she said, the mischievous shift in her tone jarring. Jack picked up his pace to walk beside me, placing a hand on my shoulder and squinting at the scroll.
"What? There's no way they wrote that name on there! Ooh, I've got a couple words for the boss once I get back," he growled, claws about to pierce the fabric of my shirt. I rested my hand on his, hoping it would calm him down at least a little.
"Come on, dude," I said in a half-whisper. "Let's just...get through this. You can be angry all you want after."
We trailed along after her through a darkened, narrow hallway like the one I'd walked down before. The hot air of the locker room slowly began to fade, and I found myself shivering a tiny bit as a speck of light became visible in the distance. The end of the hall. My attention was diverted, though, to a door made entirely of glass on my right, emitting its own soft light from the other side. I peered through and saw a room obscured by steam, the occasional silhouette passing by and throwing what seemed to be a rag over their shoulder. The silhouette of...
Another human?
"I'd stay out of that room if I were..." Edith trailed off, looking me up and down with some sort of newfound understanding. "Oh. Hm. Right. Well, in that case, you can get refreshed in there, drink...water," she muttered, the disgust in her voice thinly veiled. I nodded absently. Of course. A human break room. Why did I think I was the only one here?
"Come along, now. Fighter or not, you still want to prove your worth, don't you?"
I stared at her, perplexed, as we started walking again. "Fighter?"
"You were called upon by good old Highest to report to the HTA, were you not? Or do I have the wrong S. Rafael?" Edith didn't even turn around to address me, while something horrible started growing in the pit of my stomach. I looked to Jack, who didn't seem the least bit worried about any of this. He also didn't seem like he was going to bother explaining it, which frustrated me to no end. I sighed and turned back to Edith, who was already a good ten feet ahead of us, and ran to catch up. Jack didn't change his pace and fell behind.
"Um, sorry, but could you explain exactly what HTA means?" I asked, on the verge of losing my breath. Edith had yet to show a trace of concern or sympathy, which I probably should have expected from a demon, but still found a bit unsettling. Even then, she didn't stop walking, didn't whirl around to point at me and ask, outraged, how I had never heard of this mysterious HTA, how on Earth I hadn't managed to find a single explanation elsewhere! She sniffed disapprovingly and looked down at her scroll, now chock-full of ciphered information.
"Human training arena. You'll be competing with our Jack Gordon to track how he fares against the average human in combat. Do speed up, Jack," she called, still not turning around to see if he was listening. "Your reputation depends on it."
I stole a quick glance behind me; the look on his face suggested he was thinking, Do I look like I give a rat's ass about my reputation?
"Alright. Now seems like a good place to stop," Edith said after another minute of awkward, silent walking. We halted before what looked to be the side entrance of a miniature Roman arena. Except this arena in particular had been emptied out and scrubbed down mercilessly; everything was polished and pristine, nothing like the crumbling stone I'd expected from a so-called "training arena." No sort of sand coated the floor, in fact, what I saw was more akin to linoleum tile. I looked up—there was no sky. This was a giant, closed-off dome with a podium box suspended to our left that looked almost like a technician's control booth.
Edith seemed to notice the look of wonder on my face and rolled her eyes. She pointed out and up to the gravity-defying podium box.
"I will be watching from the booth up there to keep score, take notes, etcetera."
"Let me guess," said Jack, who had just caught up with us. "Only on me, and how much I'm improving, and blah blah blah."
"No, I'll be keeping track of both of you. But the emphasis is on the demon, if any are present."
My stomach tied itself in a knot when I finally processed what was about to happen. For whatever reason, I was suddenly anxious to prove myself in combat, even more so to prove myself to Jack. I wondered if I could ever bring myself to hurt someone that badly if it wasn't a life-or-death situation. All that talk about fighting Vickson, or whatever its name was, when we came to the realm before had just been that—talk. A heat of the moment bluff. Back when we first met, I almost broke Jack's skull in half with a tray. What would it be like fighting him now? Would I want to go easier on him? Harder? Would he see it differently than I did?
Whatever, I found myself thinking. Maybe I can talk some sense into him, what with this whole Nyx thing. He might take it less personally if it's while we're...
I furrowed my eyebrows and shook my head, still staring at the floor. Wait, no. That's a horrible idea. Why am I so obsessed with this? Him and her, together, it's not going to change anything between us! Am...am I—
"Alright, Miss Rafael, I hope you're ready for a severe ass-kicking." Jack flicked the tip of a newly-sharpened nail and grinned, rendering me defenseless. It wasn't fair; no matter how hard I tried, it seemed like he was always the one to catch me off guard, or have the last laugh. I narrowed my eyes, praying to a nonexistent god that whatever color had manifested itself in my cheeks was fading.
"Miss Rafael..." I grumbled to myself. "You're out of your mind. What, getting scared already?"
"You wish."
"Just something worth noting," Edith said, raising a hand and making an ominous sawing motion between our bodies. I only then realized how close we were standing to each other.
"You are not friends. Not now—not in this room."
I crossed my arms with another wondrous expression, like, would you look at that? "Oh. Well, that's definitely going to make things easier for me."
Jack's head snapped in my direction, the smug look he'd plastered on having completely disappeared. "Easier?"
Aw, the bastard got his feelings hurt.
"Come on, it was a joke." I made an attempt to pat him on the shoulder, but Edith shot me a dirty look as my hand was about to cross her imaginary line. "...hey, I'll try not to hate you once this is over. Deal?"
Before he could answer, Edith sighed and pressed two fingers to her forehead. "Well, I suppose I won't be able to tell from up there, anyway. Can't hear a thing. Just...try not to get too chummy," she said, eyeing both of us with an unreasonable amount of suspicion before turning away, leaving a trail of fluff and sugar plums. It still was beyond me how any sort of creature like her could be classified as a demon; she was basically a walking cupcake.
Jack and I stepped into the arena, and I rubbed my arms with clenched teeth. The air was cold and dry now. Although I knew a coat would only weigh me down in a fight, I regretted leaving mine at home. Jack was—big surprise—without his hoodie and looked overall unaffected by the space's chilliness. I heard Edith's voice at full volume from some invisible speaker in the dome, sound bouncing off the walls and mingling with itself until I could barely understand what she was saying. I squinted at the booth where she had supposedly been stationed; she seemed to realize what was happening, and with a click the overwhelming echo faded away.
"This is the most standard competition we can offer to start with," she repeated, her voice now crisp and clear. "There is one semi-flexible pole to your right—"
As quick as she'd said it, a metal pole with rubber-coated ends fell to the ground out of thin air. Jack picked it up without hesitation, though he didn't look like he knew exactly what to do from there, either.
"—that you will both hold at the start. Ten rounds before a break. Focus on the pole's ends; whoever can make it so those meet the ground over your opponent's body earns a point. Just...don't break the thing, and we won't have any problems. Other than that, no holds barred. Except for killing, I suppose," she muttered.
My heart started to beat faster, adrenaline mere seconds from taking over my body. I walked over to Jack and raised my hands as well as an eyebrow, gesturing for him to give me space on the bar too. He shifted his hands to the very ends of it with a poorly disguised smirk, and I stuck my tongue out at him as I gripped the bar and fixed my gaze on the booth. Though I couldn't exactly see Edith's face, I was willing to bet good money she was smiling.
"Have at it."