Chapter Text
Wilbur stared at the towering stack of forms his manager had dumped on his desk this morning and internalised a groan. He’d been slowly making his way through it, but working in Internal Requisitions was so much more boring than ND Soul Processing had been; he felt like his non-existent soul was breaking into pieces.
At least when he was processing the newly deceased, he’d gotten to read through all the fun ways people found to sin—he still wasn’t entirely sure what a Tamagotchi was or why so many people killed them—but in requisitions, all he could do was think about how much fun all the other departments must be having. Apparently they went through 200 gallons of lube every day down in the Sodomy department, and he was stuck up here doing paperwork about it.
He sighed and stood. Different parts of Hell were all modelled after different eras of humanity, and the Internal Requisitions Department was based on a 1950s American office building. Probably because it was the most boring, grey, square, soul-sucking design they could find. Humans thought that they would get tortured when they went to Hell, but he was the one suffering.
Human souls didn’t actually get tortured in Hell; that was just Church propaganda. Instead, they got to spend eternity indulging in every selfish desire they’d ever had as it corrupted their souls beyond salvation. Pretty sweet deal if you’re a selfish human. And in Wilbur’s experience, humans were nothing but selfish.
He checked if the coast was clear, and then he ducked into the broom closet. They’d discovered a while ago that there was a weak point in the fabric of Hell in here. If you went through the ceiling, you could essentially glitch through the map and see into other parts of Hell, so naturally they had set up a ladder.
He climbed up. Since Hell was an ever-shifting labyrinth of mismatched moving parts, the view up here was always changing. Today, he could see into a section of the Greed Department floating beneath him. It was styled after an AR casino from the 2050s. The spinning neon lights and whirling holograms were mesmerising.
Wilbur sat and dangled his feet over the edge, desperately wishing he could drop down and join the humans as they ran around from slot machine to slot machine. According to Schlatt, one of the higher-ups in charge of assigning new demons to their departments, he hadn’t scored high enough in any category of his assessment to be assigned to one of the seven main sectors, but Wilbur suspected Schlatt just liked making him suffer.
“Sadistic bastard…” He muttered resentfully to himself.
“Wilbur?” That was Tommy’s voice coming from the broom closet below him. Tommy was a relatively new hire, and Wilbur had been in charge of training him, so he still felt a bit protective of the kid.
“Up here.” Wilbur answered.
Tommy climbed up to join him. “What’re you doing up here in the middle of the day?”
“Got bored.”
“What if you get caught?”
“What’re they gonna do? Give me more paperwork?”
“Fair enough…” Tommy sat next to him. He started grinning and kicking his feet. He looked to be in such a good mood that Wilbur half-suspected he’d been at the infinite buffet during cocaine hour. That or he’d set up another booby trap somewhere.
“What’s gotten into you?” He asked.
Tommy grinned a little wider. “I just finished talking with Schlatt…”
“Did he find out it was you who started the breakroom fire?”
“Yes, but that isn’t actually what he wanted to talk about.”
“Then what-”
“He’s promoting me!” Tommy said excitedly, apparently unable to keep it quiet any longer.
Wilbur’s eyes widened, and his insides twisted with jealousy. “What?!”
“He said my malice and charisma is wasted in an office position, so he’s promoting me to deal-making.”
“Deal-making?” Wilbur repeated, about to burst from envy. “Deal-making as in going up to Earth and seducing humans into selling their souls?”
“Is there another branch of deal-making?”
“But that’s not- I’ve been here way longer than you! Why do you get a promotion?!”
Tommy shrugged. “Guess I’m just more evil than you are.”
“That’s fucking bullshit! Schlatt just likes making me suffer.”
“That too probably.” Tommy patted him on the back. “Don’t worry, Wilbur. You’ll get out of here eventually.”
Wilbur looked longingly back down at the flashing lights of the Greed department. “I hope so…” He whispered, but he seriously doubted Schlatt would ever let him leave. If he wanted to escape the bureaucratic level of Hell, he was going to have to find his own way out.
***
“Okay, you’d better take notes or something cuz I’m not repeating myself.” Techno told him as he piled more french fries onto his already precariously stacked plate of mostly potato-related food. Even with the innumerable options offered at the infinite buffet, Techno always went for the potatoes. He had a problem.
“I’ll remember.” Wilbur promised.
He and Technoblade had worked next to each other in ND Soul Processing for a long time, but when the time for promotions came around, Techno got assigned to Pact Collection while Wilbur was banished to Internal Requisitions. He was pretty stuck up about it, but he was still Wilbur’s best resource for how to get to Earth.
Techno led him to an open table, sat, and started eating his fries. “The first rule is that you have to sin a lot while you’re up there.” He said between mouthfuls.
“Why?”
“You know how rocks get all smooth if they sit in a river for long enough? Well think of the mortal world as a river of goodness, and you’re a pointy rock of evil. Eventually all the goodness washing over you will wear down and destroy your demoniness, so you have to sin a lot to counter it.”
“What happens if it does?”
“Well, uh… Keeping with the water metaphor, picture what happens when you put cotton candy in water.” He ate another fry, then added, “You’re the cotton candy, by the way.”
Wilbur winced. “Got it. Sin lots.” He thought for a moment. “How do I do that?”
“Easy mode is the early twenty-first century. You just get a Twitter account and make sure to spread some hate and blasphemy every day.”
Wilbur nodded.
“But just to be safe, I like to commit at least one major sin a week. Y’know… robbery, assault, murder, adultery. That sort of thing.”
“Right.”
“Also you have to avoid centres of goodness cuz they speed up the erosion like crazy.”
“So like churches and stuff?”
“Depends on the century. If we’re sticking with the twenty-first, then the places you really have to avoid are like non-profit charities and stuff. Children’s hospitals, blood banks, and public libraries are pretty bad too. Basically wherever people go to commit voluntary acts of kindness and compassion. Even just being around good people for too long can be bad for you cuz of their vibes.”
“Okay, but how do I actually get up there?”
“Well it’s easy enough to sneak out through the departure terminal. You can travel to any weak point in reality through there when the timing’s right. The trick is getting a host. Demon’s can’t exist for very long up there without something to shield them from all the ambient goodness. Cursed objects and haunted houses are fine, but if you want to have fun, you need a human host.”
Wilbur nodded. “So I just hop in a human and-”
“No, you need one that’s either weak-willed or unconscious, otherwise it’s a constant fight to keep control of them. If you were headed up legally, then there’s a whole process to match you with a good host. But, uh… Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out for you. There’s plenty of washed-up college stoners and coma patients out there.”
Wilbur nodded again. He was starting to wish he’d brought a notepad because this was a lot of information all at once. “Anything else I should know?”
“Um… As soon as you get a host, you should go through their memories to kinda orient yourself, so you don’t act too out of the ordinary. Again, the twenty-first century is way better for beginners cuz if you start raising suspicion, then your host’s loved ones are way less likely to call an exorcist. Usually, they just go for therapy or medications or something.”
“Right.”
“And you should be able to influence electronics pretty easily, but don’t overdo it cuz they might blow up. You can also influence weak-willed humans, but again, don’t overdo it or they might blow up… Oh! And don’t forget the most important rule.”
“Which is…?”
“Don’t fall in love.”
“Wasn’t planning to, but why not?”
“Because love, like true love of any flavour, is the most pure emotion out there. And as a demon, it will obliterate you. Got that? No platonic, familial, or romantic-”
Wilbur scoffed. “I’m not going to fall in love, Techno.” He said confidently.