Dead Like Y*u

Hades eventually went to his office. He played a copy of the surveillance footage his hellraisers collected since taking over the sector. He watched the girl stumble from her house then collapse onto the grass of her front yard. She laid there for a short while before closing her eyes and disappearing. Then the loop began again. It was constant. He couldn't even keep track of how many times she'd reset in just that week alone. It was clearly a torture loop. 

Something in his chest felt raw. Even if it wasn't a physical loop, her mind would be shattered from the psychological strain. Keeping her alive delayed the inevitable. He knew he'd have to put her out of her misery sooner rather than later. There was no way to know if she'd even be coherent again. With the way torture loops shredded the souls that inhabited them, he couldn't hope for much better from the girl. Even a short stay had the potential to drive her insane.

He felt something foreign. Guilt? If hell hadn't been so backed up with souls, perhaps it would have been brought to his attention sooner. This is ridiculous he thought, listen to yourself! Humans lived short, pointless lives and then they died. The shortness of it made it impossible to form any meaningful connection to one. Except for Persephone, he thought, and that had proved to be a terrible mistake. He shouldn't care what happened to the girl. The woman, or whatever. He decided until he knew if she would have to die, it didn't matter much what he called her.

Why should he feel guilty for a perfect stranger's predicament? Humans were terrible. Arguably, the gods were no better but that didn't matter. Caring about her made him show weakness to his men. No matter how his body reacted to her, he would have to rule himself. He took pleasure in mortal women as did all the gods but the thrill usually wore off as soon as he finished. He supposed it was more about chase than anything else. They were all the same. 

He decided to let the girl awaken and if she showed any signs of instability, he would kill her. The quicker he acted, the more merciful it would be. And the less he'd have to think about whether he cared or not.

"Nyx," he called flatly. His assistant popped her head into his office, "I need the file on a house loop. Lethe Street. Sector 5927. House number 982-54364-512-23."

"Right away sir." She said, vanishing. He took note of the slightly unbuttoned blouse she wore beneath her blazer. How long would she try to rope him in. It had been one time. Hardly enough to warrant her obsession. He found goddesses to be petty and childish at every turn.

He zoomed in on the footage, trying to understand how the girl existed. A human in hell was all but impossible. Their souls kept their bodies tied to the human world. If she, by some misfortune, entered hell on her own, her soul must have been so shredded and weak that she could pass for dead at every hellpoint until she reached her destination. He thought it was unlikely; He enacted too many safeguards. And surely if her soul had been so shattered, she'd have died soon after being added to a loop.

That only left one option, a god put her there. His jaw tightened. Over the millennia gods tried and failed to get past the hellpoints for one reason or another. Sometimes to bring back a lover, sometimes to torture an enemy. But none ever succeeded, and each time Hades thoroughly dealt with them. No god attempted since Tantalus last year. Though it hadn't been much of an attempt. As soon as he reached the gates, Asteria, the dark fate, whisked him away. Hades knew she also kept her order in hell. She conjured the power that ran the torture loops. Ruler of pain and dark gifts.

She swore there was a misunderstanding with Tantalus. He'd grieved a fallen comrade or something of that nature. Hades found it difficult to believe so ruthless a god could feel anything for anyone but he let it go, believing Asteria at her word. 

Nyx entered again, placed a slim black file on the table, and exited without a sound. He scanned the information. Hellraisers created the house a little over a year ago. His eyes tightened as he read the details of the loop. Originally generated as an Elysium house, the couple placed in it had lived in peace for only a short while until the loop suddenly began. 

He'd never heard of a house changing its own designation before. Sure, the occupants of hell created their own circumstances—the good in Elysium houses and the bad in torture loops. But it would be virtually impossible for a soul deemed worthy of peace to sudden feel guilt and torture itself. Especially on Lethe street where the waters made the inhabitants forget their mortal lives.

Hades decided the girl must have unconsciously changed the house when she was added. After nearly a year in a torture loop, she'd be shattered beyond repair. This all but confirmed his initial feelings. He'd be lucky if she could even speak. He closed the file and stood, flames starting up his wrists as the rage boiled over. Whatever god dared to disrespect his realm, and place another unnecessary murder on his hands, had a death wish he would gladly oblige. 

And whatever hellraisers had helped in the deed, would know true pain. Disloyalty was something he could never overlook. If they were not with him, they were against him. He thundered from the room in the direction of the hellraiser dormitory where the others had taken the girl.

The hellraisers nervously watched her sleep. If she died in their care, with their king personally invested, they'd be eviscerated. Or worse. Zero checked again to make sure her chest moved up and down. When he leaned in, he noticed how wonderful she smelled—Like thunderstorms and roses.

"Alright let's take a bet," Daw said, smirking, "I wager 10 fire watches that she's batshit crazy when she wakes up."

"Oh I'm taking that! I'm up for fire watch next, " Rig shrugged, "I counter with her never waking up."

"You're both idiots, so who would I be not to take an easy bet," Brazz said smiling, "She's not going to remember anything. We found her on Lethe remember?"

"Fuck! Can I change my vote?" Rig shouted.

"Yea me too? Wait, no, we don't even know how long she was in there. I'll stick by my vote."

"I don't think it's going to matter," Brazz laughed, "You're both fucked. Just wait."

"Zero didn't even bet yet," Daw pleaded.

"I'm not betting on her life like this," he said quietly, "I hope she's perfectly fine. She's been through enough don't you think? I mean, none of you saw inside her loop like I did. I wouldn't wish that on any innocent. Especially not a living one."

They all stared at him before Rig laughed, "So fucking soft, dude. Give it a few more centuries, you'll see how sensitive you are. Nobody found in a torture loop is innocent. They made their own hell for a reason. You'll see."

Angel could hear buzzing in her ears that sounded like talking. She tried focusing on the noise. The buzzing in her head grew, building to the sound of a thousand crickets moving inside her ears. Her body felt hot. Just as the noise threatened to pop her eardrums, she opened her eyes. Everything appeared murky and out of focus. She blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the dim light cast from the nearby fireplace.

She tried to move but her body felt like lead. She tried to speak but she only made a strange coughing, cracking sound. Gas lamps lit around the room, chasing the shadows away. Before her, stood a well-built man in a black vest. He had light hazel hair, gray eyes, and dark circles that sat atop sharp cheekbones. He seemed just shy of being a walking corpse. His sudden presence startled her.

"You're awake," Zero said stating the obvious, "I'm Zero." Taking a pause to see if she understood or if the others had been right about her mental state. He continued, "That's Brazz, Daw, and Rig," pointing to the three other men in the room.

As she followed his finger to their faces, she saw each one had the exact same gray eyes, dark circles and gaunt cheeks. They looked like the life had been sucked out of them. At first glance they all might as well have been the same person, the only difference being their hair color. The one called Brazz had white hair, Daw's was platinum blond and Rig's was the color of the sun.

The men suddenly felt warm as her pale gold eyes rolled over them. The abrupt temperature change sent goosebumps over their arms. Her creamy brown skin complemented her gold eyes and large coiling curls perfectly draped down her back. While she showed great beauty while asleep, she glowed like a flame when awake. She took their breath away. Already her cheeks had filled back out and her dark bruised under-eyes had softened into a dark brown.

She swallowed a few times before trying to speak again, "Where am I?" She cringed at the sound of her voice and rubbed her throat some more. Her composure shocked the men. What strength she must have had to be so...unaffected.

"You're safe," Brazz said, "We're here to help you. Right now, though, we need to be the ones to ask the questions."

"What's your name," Zero asked, crouching down to help her sit up against the couch. His hands brushed her arms. Her skin felt like warm butter on his icy hands. She shuddered as he let go.

"Angel."

"What are the odds of an angel in hell," Rig scoffed, eying her like she was a bomb, but unable to look away. Her eyes looked through him as Angel struggled to get a grip on her surroundings. She couldn't comprehend anything. Where was she? Who were these men? Was she safe? Should she run? The questions raced around her. She would have to wait to react until she had a handle on the situation.

"Angel...what?" Zero looked at her with reassuring eyes. She started to answer, made a strange face, then looked at him a little confused, "I...don...I don't know."

"What do you remember? Anything at all about yourself or where you come from?"

She tried to think but her head was a cloud of smoke, shifting endlessly away from anything coherent. She opened her mouth, transfixing them all to her full lips, then closed it again. She shook her head apologetically.

"Called it!" Brazz said with a smile, "Her emotions are going to be numbed as well."

"It's strange though don't you think? Lethe isn't where torture loops go," Daw said lowly, "Forgetting yourself is a gift given to those who don't need to be punished, those who have done nothing wrong. How does that become...something else? I mean look at her, she definitely didn't deserve to be in Elysium."

Angel looked down at herself as he drew attention to her clothes. She realized that blood stained everything. She should have been horrified but she was simply empty. Angel remembered nothing of how she came to be bathed in blood. No one responded to Daw. His face darkened with thought as he looked at Angel. She had a calming effect on him. She reminded him of his life before death. He didn't know how much damage had been done on the inside of her body, but she seemed okay for having been in a loop. 

He wondered how long the memory loss would last. Once she could access the painful memories of her torture, he knew she would break. Only time would tell. Angel, on the other hand, waited for someone to explain. Anything, anything reasonable at least. They babbled about things that made no sense to her. All she knew was that she knew nothing—her mind staring back at her blankly.

"Will I be alright? Am I dead like you?" Angel questioned, not looking at anyone in particular. She couldn't see her face and with everything that she couldn't remember, it appeared just as likely that she'd died. The men looked dead. It wasn't outside the realm of possibility that she died too. No one answered at first. Then Zero looked at her, "You're definitely not dead...and neither are we. But that's a conversation for when you've had more rest."

"Yes, I don't feel very alright at the moment," she admitted. Something caged her heart; she couldn't shake any real emotion free. She drifted, like she was outside of herself, watching everything from afar. Suddenly there was a knock at the door, a man whispered to Daw then left.

"Uhhghh" Daw cleared his throat, "his majesty has called all raisers to the meeting hall."

"We can't leave her here," Zero said flatly, "She comes down with us. I'll carry her."

The others made small sounds of agreement. Angel wanted to protest, or fight, or stay on the couch a little longer. The exhaustion in her bones hadn't disappeared and she could already feel the uneasiness rising inside. But she didn't want to be alone either and as much as it distressed her, she had to trust the strange men. How else would she gain enough bearings to escape? The others nodded and headed for the door. Zero lifted Angel like she weighed nothing and slipped into the hall of people without a sound.