Work Text:
He felt more than a little smarmy as he made his way to level nine.
It had been something close to three weeks since he had checked in with his friend beyond a halfhearted text or a meme. Hell, it had been closer to a month since he had last seen Greg outside of something involving work. The other hadn’t stopped by his office to hang out, hadn’t been online to play Invaders, and hadn’t been to trivia in a while. His absence from social life would have normally caused Bel to worry, but from what Lily had been telling him, the soul management side of Hell was a bit busy lately. He also knew that nearly all the masters of the soul levels had expressed some concerns of falling behind at a couple of the admin meetings. Greg hadn’t been among them, but he had offered to assist the gate demons and other levels so Bel was sure that would make level nine a bit busier.
For his part, Bel had to admit that he had been a bit of a shit friend lately. It was his legions’ turns to be on call, which meant they were all on standby, patrol, and training deployments which always made more work for him. That was normal and expected; this wouldn’t have been the first time that their work schedules made it difficult to see each other. However, if he was being honest, most days when he wasn’t at work, he was with Lily and Sharkie. Since the end of the war and recovering from his injuries, his little family had eased his soul and given him a sense of fulfillment. Parts of him that would have previously been festering wounds had he been left to heal on his own were fading scars. While it had done wonders for him, he was starting to become more aware of how many people he had been accidentally shutting out. While many of them, like Angel and Azzy, were comfortable making themselves absolute menaces until he hung out with them, not everyone of his friends did.
Greg didn’t pester others. He was willing to accept most invitations to socialize and sometimes, if he was feeling bold, would ask if anyone was free but he was never insistent. He held the opinion that if someone wanted to see him, they would without him annoying them and he rather be respectful of their time. He had been like this since they were kids, but it had gotten more notable when he began working on level nine. Azzy had always complained that Greg was too introverted for his own good, but Bel had a nagging suspicion it was less introversion and more likely something else. He wasn’t sure what though, because, while Greg had absolutely no problem dropping everything to play therapist for his friends, he kept his own struggles close. It drove Bel crazy at times, especially when he saw him struggling but the only answers he ever got to his concerns were “I’m fine,” or “I’m just figuring things out.”
It wasn’t that Greg never confided in him or didn’t trust him. Bel knew just about every crazy scheme, ridicules story, secret dream, and goal that Greg had, had since they were kids. But those parts of him that were raw and bruised, the pieces that were broken, those he only ever got glimpses of. Those glimpses had become concerningly rare. The Master of Level Nine had built such a damn near impenetrable wall around his emotions that it was easy to forget he had any. In many ways, his guardedness reminded Bel of Lily when she had first arrived in the afterlife. Though, Lily had been, and still was, making the conscious and deliberate effort to let people in; Greg seemed more and more content with keeping others out.
It wasn’t for Greg, however, that Bel found himself punching the elevator button for level nine. Sure, it would be nice to see him, but he had a purpose for the visit that had little to do with a social call or even work. It was a pretty self-serving visit and that was what had him feeling so smarmy.
‘It’s not selfish. It’s for Lily…’ he scolded himself in his head.
For a few weeks now Lily had been struggling. He had caught her on more than ten occasions staring off into space, an unreadable expression on her pretty face. Sometimes, when she would shake herself free of the daydream, she would go to wash her hands repeatedly, a few times she even showered. She always downplayed the seriousness of the events and since it happened infrequently enough, he allowed himself to be convinced things were fine. Then she had started needing more and more cuddles after a shift at the Hellp Desk and sometimes she would be very moody.
Her temper would be short, though she had done pretty good at keeping it in check. She would start crying randomly at times, or she would be so tense a sudden sound would make her jump. He had asked her if someone she knew, someone who had hurt her in life, had come through her line and she had reassured him that it was nothing like that. She had done her best to convince him that she was fine, maybe just stressed. When the nightmares had started, however, she could no longer convince him that she was alright. It had taken some gentile coaxing, but Lily had finally admitted that she was sometimes hit by vague memories of the soul files she read. She had tried to ignore it, thinking that she just needed more breaks between work shifts, but it was getting worse, and she wasn’t sure what to do. Truth be told, Bel wasn’t sure what to do either, but he bet he knew somebody who did.
The elevator doors dinging open drew him from his thoughts and he instantly stiffened as the metaphorical weight of the level hit him. Stepping off the elevator, he took a moment to adjust to the unsettling feeling of the place and looked around. Level nine was very utilitarian compared to every other place in Hell. It was heavy and oppressive by design, making anyone who wasn’t an employee feel trapped. For the souls sentenced to spend their eternities down here, that feeling never went away, but for visitors it just took a moment or so to adjust. Stretching out his wings slightly and rolling his shoulders, he reassured himself that he still had the ability to fly if needed and began walking down the hall towards the administrative entrance. He made it through the doors when an employee seemingly materialized out of the shadows to greet him.
“Hello sir, may I help you?” The young women, a lilac-colored demon with short dark purple hair, offered a carefully practiced smile as she bowed slightly.
Bel, a little startled by her sudden appearance and only slightly annoyed that he hadn’t seen her, replied, “is Gregorith available?”
The young demon tilted her head to the side, “do you have an appointment?”
“Uh…no…” Bel said, wondering if Greg was too busy for a visit or worse, in one of his moods again. “If he’s busy, I can come back,” he added.
“No need. Please give me one moment to check,” she turned to leave, pausing for a second before turning back to ask, “is this work related?”
“No. Not really,” he answered. She nodded her understanding before turning again and making her way down a hall off to the right of the front desk.
Bel watched her for a moment, a little relieved that she was headed down the hall that led to the offices. ‘Well… if he is in a mood, it can’t be too bad if he’s in his office and not…working…’ he thought. He didn’t have to wait long before the young women returned, her friendly smile back on her face.
“He’s able to meet with you,” she informed Bel, gesturing down the hall, “in his office. Do you know the way?”
“Is it still the large, intimidating one at the end of the hall?” He joked and she laughed softly, nodding her head. “I’m good, thank you,” Bel assured before making his way down the hall, stopping in front of the aforementioned intimidating thick oak door to knock.
“Come in,” came the muffled response and Bel pushed his way inside, pausing a moment to take in Greg’s office. He didn’t come here often, mostly because Greg tended to wonder up to his office if he was free and because level nine just wasn’t a place you went to hang out. As a result, he always felt like he needed to reorient himself when walking in. The office was about the size of a spacious living room and had a dark academia style to it. Floor to ceiling bookshelves lined the wall across from the door, all stained a dark, almost black, warm wood tone. There were thousands upon thousands of leather-bound, untitled, books filling those shelves that greatly contributed to the academia vibes.
The bookshelves themselves stood on top of deep stained oak floors that matched the doors and contrasted nicely with the furniture. Two rugs that were deep shades of red, golds, and browns broke up the room into different areas: one under Greg’s desk, the other under a sitting area. To his right, a wall of windows that overlooked the lava pools of the level framed the sitting area where his beloved couch was front and center.
“You reupholstered my couch?” Bel grumbled, glaring at the black leather that now covered the ‘stolen’ piece of furniture.
“I needed my couch to match the rest of the decor,” Greg answered, and Bel didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking.
Turning to his left, he saw his friend sitting at his desk, a large wooden one that matched the shelves, looking between a soul file and one of those leather books from the shelves. Bel didn’t know what was in those books, he had never asked. When Gregorith had become master, he had made it very clear they were of vital importance to level nine and off limits. He had all but threatened to chop Azzy’s hands off if the lovable prankster ever looked at them. There must have been something in the way Greg had spoken, because to Bel’s knowledge, his cousin had never touched one.
“Black leather?” he grumbled as he turned his focus from the room to his friend. Greg was dressed in the most casual attire he thought he had ever seen him at work in. A black fitted turtleneck, the sleeves pushed up, which was tucked into charcoal gray trousers and polished black boots.
“All of my furniture is black leather. It’s easy to clean and hides blood,” Greg responded absent mindedly and Bel had to suppress a shudder from the icy practicality of the response. It was true, the two armchairs that were positioned in a conversational arrangement in front of the couch were also black leather and so were the chairs at Greg’s desk. There were rich red and gold throw pillows on them to break up the black and warm up the space, but the need to disguise certain colored stains had been the leading factor in determining the color pallet. Looking back over at the couch, mostly forlornly, the sight of a neatly folded blanket with a pillow stacked on it caught his attention.
“Been busy, huh?” he asked looking at the other but nodding his head towards the couch.
Greg looked up from what he was working on, following Bel’s gesture, before shrugging and returning to work. “No more than anyone else,” he dismissed.
“Uh huh…” Bel said, voice full of skepticism.
“There are a few duties that I have had to preform lately that can only be done at certain times of the day,” Greg tried again, choosing his words extremely carefully for some reason, “which requires me to make adjustments to my schedule. Sometimes that means I have to sleep in my office.”
The great care he took to craft his answer was enough of a clue for Bel to drop the matter. He moved from the door, taking care to shut it behind him, towards his ‘mutilated’ couch. Stretching out his wings, he flopped down to wait for Greg to finish up what he was working on. It didn’t take much time, as he only made a few more notes in the journal before carefully closing it. The soul file he had been reading, a rotting black looking thing, disappeared in a puff of bright light as Greg stood stretching. He made his way, movements stiff, over to the chair across from Bel.
“You’re getting old,” Bel commented as he took note of the slight limp Greg had and how gingerly he eased himself into his seat, “if sleeping on a couch is making you stiff.”
Greg smirked; “it wasn’t the couch that made me stiff,” he shot back. He was going for smug and coy, but Bel knew better; Greg was deflecting the concern. Bel chose not to push the matter. “So, what do you need my help with?” Greg asked, expression neutral as he tilted his head expectantly.
“What makes you think I need your help?” Bel grumbled indigently at being seen through so easily.
The smirk yet again returned to Greg’s face and his tail twitched, a clear sign he was feeling smug, “you only come here when you want something.”
“I do not…” Bel started to protest but stopped when Greg raised an eyebrow. Sighing, he leaned forward and admitted, “I need a favor… and it’s for Lily.”
Greg went still, sitting up straighter and the smirk falling from his face; “I’m listening.” Lily and Greg had become somewhat good friends over the last year, both to Bel’s amusement and horror. Not only did this mean that Greg was one hundred percent taking Lily’s side when it came to bullying Bel, but he would do just about anything to help her.
Taking a deep breath, Bel relayed the story of the past few weeks, explaining the odd behaviors and strange effect of the soul files while still doing his best to respect Lily’s privacy. She knew he was going to ask Greg for any advice he might have, given his experience, and she had even given her permission, but he still didn’t feel comfortable going into detail about all of it. Luckly, it didn’t seem Greg needed exact details as he sat listening, never interrupting. “Do you have any ideas what caused this or what could help?” Bel asked, once he had finished.
Greg was almost eerily still as he sat for a moment, digesting the information his friend had provided, expression annoyingly unreadable. After what felt like most of eternity, he asked “how long has Lily been working at the Hellp Desk?”
Bel shrugged, “Uhm… two years-ish? You know how time works down here…”
Greg nodded, “and she’s been deified for a year?”
“A little less, but yeah…. Why?” He asked, eyes narrowing as he studied Greg.
“The deification made her a being of the afterlife…” Greg supplied as if that cleared up everything. Bel didn’t get a chance to respond though before his friend locked eyes with him and asked, “what are you hoping I can do?”
“Can you explain what’s going on?”
Greg shrugged, “I have a theory, but Lily is a mortal soul made into a being of the afterlife. I’m not exactly sure how that factor affects my theory.”
“What’s your theory?” Bel asked.
“That she’s having a side effect of being granted access to soul files,” he said, and his voice had taken-on a guarded tone. It was a clear sign that he knew more than he was saying, and that this topic was close to home.
“Side effects?” Bel repeated, surprised, “there are side effects to reading soul files? What kind of side effects?”
Greg shrugged, his tail twitching ever so slightly. “It is not uncommon for residual energy from the file reading process to build up in the reader. Wouldn’t be the first time this has happened.”
Bel’s eyes narrowed, studying Greg for a moment. His concern for Lily may be forefront in his mind, but he was still aware that there were implications he couldn’t quite articulate to Greg’s statement. The bastard remained entirely unreadable and offered no further information though. Bel knew that trying to get Greg to open about anything he kept guarded was not only impossible, but it was also a sure way to drive him away. Droping the matter, for now, was probably the best idea. Still he wondered just how much first-hand experience Greg had with these ‘side-effects’.
Bel refocused his attention to Lily, she was the one who would let him help. They had both known the problem was most likely the soul files and Lily had been afraid that the answer would be to leave the Hellp Desk. Bel knew that would be near soul crushing for her, so he was almost afraid to ask what to do about it.
Greg, ever perceptive, must have read his thoughts in his expression, either that or he’d learned to read minds, but he offered as close to a reassuring smile as he could. “It’s not a disease Bel. There are things that can be done to help.”
Bel felt a weight lift off him and he brighten up at Greg’s reassurance, “things like what? What can I do?”
Greg shook his head, “not you. Is Lily at work?”
Bel frowned, not happy about seemingly being dismissed, “yeah. Why isn’t there anything I can do?”
“Because you’re already doing it,” Greg said, tilting his head to the side again. “You’re supporting her, providing a safe space, and helping her figure out what’s going on,” Greg shrugged, “there really isn’t anything you can do differently.”
“Oh…” Bel murmured, feeling a little sheepish, “but what can Lily do?”
“I don’t know yet. That will depend on Lily,” he answered.
-line-
“I didn’t know angels worked in Hell.”
Lily bit back a groan as she rolled her eyes up over her book and stared blankly at a sleezy looking man with a beer belly and a frat boy attitude. He gave her a cocky grin, looking like he thought he was God’s gift to women. Lily doubted he had ever made it past the second date in his life.
“They don’t,” she said, reaching out for the grease-stained file that had appeared on her desk and skimmed the first page. This soul was just the average alpha wannabe type who had put forth no work on developing a personality but channeled all his loneliness into convincing himself women were the problem. He was a soft level four. “And you’re interrupting my book,” she continued, not interested in reading further into his file. “Level four awaits you, and talking to me isn’t going to change a thing except how many pieces you arrive in.”
The frat bro soul blinked at her, both caught off guard and nervous at her words, “uh…uh…but I don’t want to go to level four. I was told that the afterlife had all the hot babes and…”
Lily, who had attempted to go back to reading, closed her book and sat it down on her desk. She sat up straighter in her chair, carefully folding her hands together and fixed the soul with a glare that left him silenced. “You were lonely and overlooked in your life, but instead of taking a hard look at yourself in the mirror and figuring out why nobody ever wanted to date you, you became a slimy troll who littered the internet with red pill content. Your only saving grace is that you never truly had the heart to hurt anyone and genuinely felt remorse when another man explained why your red pill rants were harmful. Still, you refused to acknowledge your own flaws and do the work to grow and develop. But guess what you have to do now,” she said, and, in her head, she added, ‘and at least your file won’t be tonight’s nightmare.’
The soul stammered for a moment, trying to come up with a response, but he really had no backbone in him at all.
“Off you fuck,” Lily said, shooing him away, “level four will help you start the process.” Not knowing what to do, and clearly out matched, the soul shuffled his way towards the stairs. With a grimace Lily realized that her reading break was over as she watched her line fill back up. Sighing, she reached for the next file that appeared and smiled, genuinely, up at the level one soul who approached.
“Hi. Sorry…. I just… my dog from when I was a kid… can I still see him?” the woman asked, clearly nervous.
“Absolutely. You’ll need to get settled in, and the therapists down there will have a few things to go over with you first, but level one isn’t a punishment, not really. Dogs are allowed,” Lily reassured. Relief washed over the woman’s face, and she gave a tearful “thanks,” before heading off towards the stairs. Lily watched her a moment, sending out a silent prayer that the soul would find some peace before turning her attention to the next soul… and the next… and the next… and the…
A dark red hand reached down and lazily picked up the rusty red-brown stained file that had appeared on her desk right as the soul approached. This soul, the latest in the long line that had interrupted her book, looked average and unassuming in every way. He smiled easily and put forth an ‘awe-shucks’ kind of front, but his eyes were empty of anything human. She felt her gut clench when he sized her up and the hairs on the back of her neck began to raise as her fight or flight response kicked in. She would have reached for the sword she kept under her desk had it not been for the demon standing next to her. Looking over to where Gregorith had materialized, she watched as he casually flipped through the file.
“Uh… hello there ma’am. I think I need some help?” the soul said, looking from Lily to Gregorith and back.
“This one’s not worth your time,” Gregorith spoke before Lily could say anything.
“But I need help,” the soul tried again, cutting a look over to the demon before fixing his eyes on Lily again.
Gregorith made a “humph” sound and then mumbled, “pathetic,” just loud enough for the soul to hear. Then, directing his voice to Lily while still reading over the file, he said, “I think he’s a waste of effort.”
“Isn’t this customer service?” the soul said, and he tried to sound confused and good natured, but his eyes glared at Gregorith. It was odd in a creepy surreal way that anger was the first emotion Lily saw in him.
“There is absolutely nothing original or impressive in here,” Gregorith murmured, still not bothering to look up.
“Excuse me?” the soul scoffed, still trying for that awe-shucks front, but there was a cold edge to his voice that made Lily really glad she wasn’t the one reading his file.
Gregorith sighed, seemingly bored, as he closed the file and reached for one of the pens on her desk. “He’s not even worth my time,” he continued to grumble, still completely ignoring the soul as he wrote a note on the file’s cover in neat script before allowing the file to disappear and returning the pen.
The soul slammed his fist down on the desk, right in front of Gregorith’s face, startling several other souls in the line behind him and Lily. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not right here,” he hissed, and he looked like he was ready to kill the demon.
Gregorith straightened and Lily felt the air around her freeze. Every primal instinct inside her being told her to run, and several of the souls in her line did. The rest seemed to flee as soon as Gregorith turned his gaze onto the soul in front of the desk. There had been no change in his body language, no stiffening of muscles or sign of tension. His face was as unexpressive and neutral as it had been when he arrived but his eyes… Lily had never seen eyes so devoid of emotion; not even the worst serial killers that had come through her line looked so empty inside.
“You are already sentenced to level nine with no chance at reincarnation. Eternity is a long time.” he began, voice low, even, and equally as empty as his eyes, “do you really want to be worthy of my time?”
Lily had no doubt that whatever kind of monster was standing in front of her desk recognized that the demon he was staring up at was by far worse. She could see the anger that burned in his eyes mutate into fear and he stilled, eyes flicking between Lily, Gregorith, and his surroundings. She could almost see the wheels in his head turning, trying to find a way out of this situation that didn’t end in pain. Apparently, he thought of something because his gaze settled on Lily.
“My employees are expecting you. Do not keep them waiting,” Gregorith said stepping forward, deliberately placing himself between her and the soul. The soul hesitated and Gregorith stepped as close to him as the desk would allow. “Run,” he said, his voice, no louder than a whisper, shaped the word into a dagger made of ice. The soul bolted. Gregorith watched him for a few seconds, making sure that he wasn’t going to be any more of a problem, before relaxing. And, just like that, the air around her returned to its normal temperature and the screaming instinct to flee went silent.
“Fuck,” Lily said as she exhaled the breath she had been holding, “serial killer?”
“Yes,” Greg confirmed, giving Lily space. He leaned against the far part of the desk, keeping his hands visible and turning his eyes out towards the gate. He was trying very hard to be as unintimidating as he possibly could be so she could regain her composure and she appreciated it.
“Why are they always so fucking creepy?” she asked, coming to stand next to him. She was still weary, but she wasn’t afraid of Greg.
Greg shrugged, “I’ve stopped trying to figure that out. I apologize for over stepping; I know you have your own procedures and were more than capable of handling him. However, I am glad you didn’t have to read his file.”
Lily felt a chill run up her spine and she scrunched up her nose, “please tell me he did not have a red-head kink?”
“Okay. I won’t,” Greg said with a smirk and Lily scrunched up her face in disgust.
“Any chance you’ll let a red head beat that particular ick out of him?” she asked.
Greg laughed softly, “Ask me again in about a week.”
“Busy?” she asked, studying her friend for a long moment. He looked mostly normal, if dressed more casual than he normally did. It was always hard to read Greg, so she couldn’t tell for sure, but she thought he might be tired.
“Not really,” he answered, “the other levels are though and we’re trying to help where we can. That makes us short staffed which, of course, is when the other parts of the job start picking up.”
Lily didn’t know what “the other parts” of level nine’s job was, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. “So… if you’re not really busy but understaffed,” she said, eyeing him suspiciously, “why are you up here?”
“Do you have time for coffee?” he asked, glancing over at her.
Lily groaned, “Bel talked to you?”
“He stopped by,” Greg confirmed. “So, coffee? I mean, your line is clear,” he continued, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
“You were purposely creepy to clear out my line, weren’t you?” Lily accused, glaring at him. She was stalling. She had known that Bel was going to ask Greg for any advice about her current soul file fueled nightmare problem, she just hadn’t expected Greg to come up to talk to her. Somehow that made whatever her nightmares were seem worse.
Greg shrugged, “Who’s to say? Come on. I know a spot I think you’ll like.”
-line-
Greg had taken her down to one of the residential levels that she wasn’t too familiar with. She had been there before to visit one of the taverns, but he had led her away from the main hub of the level where that tavern had been and towards an older, more rustic part. As they walked, they exchanged stories about different souls they’d had to deal with lately, occasionally Greg interrupting the main topic of conversation to point out interesting things on their route. Lily, unfamiliar with the level as she was, loved having a tour guide; especially one who seemed to point things out that were tailored to her interests. This level, which reminded her of some of the seaside towns she had seen in the mortal world, felt rustic and quaint in a way that made her a little homesick.
“I will take a serial killer over a Karen any day,” Greg said as he stopped outside one of the shops.
“Really? They’re not that bad,” Lily came to a stop next to him and looked up at the shop’s sign; ‘The Cozy Bean’. “You just need some patience and a little kindness.”
“Ah yes… two things I am widely known for when dealing with souls," Greg murmured making Lily laugh. “Besides, I’m allowed to stab serial killers. I get in trouble if I stab anyone on a lower level than seven,” Greg said, making Lily laugh harder, as he held open the door for her.
Inside, the shop was respectfully busy with a few patrons, mostly demons, scattered around at the tables. She was greeted by a beautiful bronze skinned demon with a warm smile, “Hello! Welcome to the Bean, what can I get for you?”
Lily returned the smile and approached the counter as Greg came in behind her. The women looked up from Lily to him, her smile shifting slightly from a ‘customer service’ smile to a more authentic on. “Hey stranger! Long time no see. Thought you forgot about us,” she greeted.
Greg gave her a slight smile and shook his head, “Hey Aurora. Haven’t forgotten you, just been busy.” Lily looked between the two demons, an amused smile on her face. Greg, avoiding her eyes as he scanned the listed specials, said “you have your favorite spot, I have mine.”
Shaking her head with a soft laugh, Lily looked back at the equally amused barista. “Do you have white chocolate mocha?” she asked.
“Sure do, how do you take it?” the demon answered, and Lily gave her, her order before she turned to Greg, “your usual?”
Greg shook his head in the affirmative and added, “can you make it a red eye please?”
“Coming up,” she confirmed and then set to work on their drinks. Lily and Greg shuffled to the side to make room for anyone else who came in and allowing for Lily to get a better look at the place.
Living up to its name, the Cozy Bean was in fact very cozy. It looked like most mom-and-pop coffee shops she had been in when she was alive, and she found it absolutely delightful. Less delightful, however, were the stray, nervous glances that several of the shop’s occupants kept casting their way. Lily, being a mortal soul freely wondering around Hell, had gotten use to the occasional surprised look; especially when she was out and about with Bel. These looks, however, were not the same and they were not directed at her.
Glancing over to Greg, he seemed entirely too interested in studying the special menu as he leaned against the wall. His arms were crossed in front of him, appearing to all the Universe to be at ease. He wasn’t though. Lily could see the tiniest hints of tension around his eyes which told her that he was well aware of the nervous glances casted his way.
“Here you are,” Aurora said setting down their coffee, both of which were in to-go cups. They hadn’t ordered their coffee to-go, but perhaps she was also aware of the nervous looks and the subtle tension.
“Thank you, Aurora,” Greg said retrieving the cups and handing Lily’s over.
“Any time,” the friendly barista said, “by the way, you still owe me mugs.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” Greg said, leading Lily out the shop door, “I’ll have them soon.” With a last wave, he exited the shop and met Lily’s quizzical gaze.
“You owe her mugs?” she asked.
“Yes,” he confirmed but offered nothing else as they started walking again.
Taking a sip of her coffee. “Oh, this is good….” She declared as the wonderfully balanced and decadent flavors of the drink.
“Told you,” Greg said, sounding smug as he turned down a path that led through a tunnel.
“Where are we headed?” Lily asked as she looked at the tunnel curiously. It cut through a large mountain-like structure that had probably once been a lava-fall.
Greg stopped moving, looking back at her. “There’s an overlook for the lava sea down this way. But if you prefer, there’s a park nearby that we can also go to.”
“No, the overlook sounds fine. I’ve just never been to this part of this level before,” Lily said taking another sip of coffee, “You clearly have.”
Greg smirked, “once or twice. My house is about a block away.”
“Wait, really?” Lilly stammered. In the couple years-ish she had known him, she had never known which level Greg lived on.
It was Greg’s turn to look at her quizzically, “you didn’t know?”
“I mean, I assumed Lev wouldn’t let you live in your office,” Lily joked as she caught up to him and they continued walking.
He shrugged, “What Lev doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
“I don’t know, does he ever know if your mad at him?” Lily joked making Greg laugh softly.
She was about to say something else, trying to keep the levity going, but her words caught in her throat when they stepped out onto the overlook. Hell never ceased to surprise her with its beauty. Hidden behind the lava mountain was a cliff, the edge of which was railed off. The cliff was made of the same dark and smooth rocks as the rest of the solidified lava formations, but it had little bits of bioluminescent plant life scattered around in clusters and glowing softly. Beyond the cliff’s edge was a sweeping view of a sea of lava that seemed to go on forever. As she looked around, she was filled with the understanding that, despite being a public area, this place was secretive. The large mountain like lava structure that they had to take the tunnel through would make it difficult for anyone with wings to simply fly over it and the slightly overgrown walking paths looked as if they hadn’t been used recently.
As if sensing her train of thought, Greg said simply, “It doesn’t lead down to the beach and is pretty much a dead end, so nobody really comes out this way.” He paused to take a sip of his coffee then said in a neutral voice without looking at her, “you can tell me about the nightmares. I can give you advice based off what Bel told me. We can drink our coffee and watch the sea. Or we can head back up to work.”
He didn’t add, “it’s your choice,” at the end of her list of options, for which Lily was grateful. That phrase was supposed to make it feel like you had control of the situation, and you were in charge. In reality, it made decision making overwhelming, and she hated it. She also hated the very tight and sick feeling in her stomach that was forming as she sipped her coffee.
How was she supposed to talk about something that made her feel so vulnerable with Greg when she could barely do so with Bel? While she considered Greg a friend, the truth was they weren’t all that close. The bulk of their relationship had been shaped in one-liners and trivia night banter. Besides for a few moments while Bel was recovering from his injuries, Greg had never really let her in. Fuck, most of the information she knew about him were from little bits of lore drops like he was some kind of cryptid.
“My nightmares started my third year on level nine,” Greg said softly after she was silent for several minutes.
His revelation startled Lily, in part because she didn’t expect him to open up with something that personal but also because he was so casual about it. It was also strange to think of Greg, mister cool, calm, and collected, as having nightmares. Perhaps it was because he was so hard to read, but it just seemed like things wouldn’t bother him to the point of nightmares.
“What…what triggered them?” Lily asked, unsure of what else to say.
Greg shrugged, tilting his head to the side as he started out at the sea. “The first time… a soul I had been assigned had a particular method he used to hurt people, and that method had a particular sound. When I heard it again just out in the world, I wasn’t prepared for it to take me back to his file. I’ve never really thought about if that’s a consistent pattern or not.”
Lily nodded, waiting for him to follow up his admission with the probing “your turn” she was used to friends doing. In her mortal life, when she got drawn into trauma dumping with friends, that had been the signal it was someone else’s turn to dig deep and expose a soul crushing secret for everyone’s entertainment. Except Greg didn’t say it. He simply took a sip of coffee and watched the sea as seemingly unbothered by everything as if they were talking about the weather. It struck her then that he really wasn’t going to force her to open up to him. His mentioning of his nightmares wasn’t because he was trying to manipulate her into talking about her own, it was because he had sensed her hesitation and quickly pinpointed the source. He was offering her an opening.
“Fuck it…” she sighed, getting his attention, “I have no idea what triggered my nightmares. They started a couple weeks ago and have been increasingly insistent.”
“What are they like?” he asked, voice neutral.
“I don’t know… scary?” Lily shrugged, confused by the question.
“Fair…” Greg responded with a slight smile before growing serious, “What I mean… in my dreams, more often than not, I take on the perspective of the victim. Everything that I experience is what I imagine it would have been like to be prey.”
Lily felt her stomach flip and knot. Greg was every bit a predator, at least in the non-creepy, universal justice kind of way. Where Bel and Azzy had a very obvious kind of power and strength, Greg had a quiet form that was intertwined with intellect. Lily had never seen him in action, but Bel had described his work as artistic brutality that incorporated as much psychological torture as it did physical. There was absolutely nothing about him that indicated he was prey. So, for him to be locked into that position when he was in a dream, when he was supposed to be allowed to rest and feel safe, that must feel like his own personal form of level nine.
‘He doesn’t deserve that,’ she thought before another realization hit her. The souls on level nine, they were there because of horrendous acts of all types of violence. What she had seen in the files of the few who had come to her desk always had some level of gratification from causing others pain. They enjoyed the fear, trauma, and destruction that they caused. They got sadistic glee from violating people…. ‘Oh,’ she thought as the weight of her realization settled in. The entire time that she had known Greg, she had never known him to seek out physical contact… Before she could stop herself, she heard her voice say, “is that why you don’t like being touched? ”
Next to her, Greg stiffened, and she heard him inhale sharply. He was still for such a long moment that Lily was about to apologize when he said in a quiet voice, “It’s part of it.”
She felt her nose sting and took a shaky breath to force back her tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, knowing exactly what it felt like to be a victim.
“Don’t be,” Greg said in an oddly reassuring tone, “I mean, I appreciate the understanding, but nightmares aren’t the same. Besides, I get to ensure that justice is done, their victims didn’t. I tend to think of it as motivation to be very thorough in my work.”
Lily nodded. “Yeah… I get that… empathy tends to make me more violent too,” she said thinking about all of the souls that she had beaten into blood splatter because of her understanding and compassion for their victims. “In my dreams, I’m the soul. I’m the one doing the evil,” she said, gripping her coffee cup tighter.
Greg tilted his head to the side, thinking for a moment, before nodding and saying, “yeah. That makes sense.”
“How so?” she asked.
“Were you violent in life? Other than situations that made violence a necessity, I mean”
“No… there were times when I wanted to be. Times where I thought about it, in depth, but no.”
Greg nodded, “So you’re learning to be violent here, in the Afterlife, where everything is just a bit different than the mortal world. In the mortal world, violence is frowned upon and considered evil no matter what, here some of it is considered justice… or at least a part of it. But that doesn’t mean that it can’t become evil; we’re not perfect. I think, because you’re learning to be violent, your dreams are trying to show you the difference between just violence and a power trip. Of course, I’m not a therapist so that can all be bull shit.”
Lily scoffed-laughed, taking a sip of her coffee. She examined Greg’s explanation over again in her head, dissecting each word and evaluating it with her own understanding and intuition. She didn’t think it was bull shit… in fact, the more she thought about it the more she could see what Greg was saying.
“The worst part of the dreams aren’t the actual memories of the soul, it was knowing how they felt and understanding how they thought…” she murmured as she suppressed a shudder. She didn’t mind the acts of violence so could remember, but feeling gleeful when a man, a stranger, fell under her blow or feeling arousal when a crying and battered woman looked up at her begging…
“I hate feeling helpless. When I’m working, I am always the one in charge. I am always the one with the power but in my dreams, I am weak and have no control… that perspective keeps me balanced,” Greg said.
Lily nodded her understanding. She absolutely detested feeling like a predator so much so that the memories of her dreams would often temper her anger at the souls in her line. It was keeping her from being cruel. “Okay,” she said, letting out her breath, “I see it…. I see your point, but I still need to do something about the nightmares because I don’t want to stop working.”
“Well… I hear the rage rooms are nice….” Greg said dryly making Lily laugh.
“What do you do for yours?” she asked after her laughter faded.
“A few things. For one, and don’t hit me, but I don’t read on bad days,” Lily glared at him, “don’t give me that look. I said bad days, not stop reading, and there is a reason why.”
“It better be a good one,” Lily grumbled making Greg laugh softly.
“I find that reading makes me use my imagination. It makes me visualize things, and that almost guarantees I have nightmares if I read on the bad days.”
Lily scrunched up her nose, mad that Greg had made yet another point she begrudgingly understood. “I don’t like it…” she grumbled.
“It is something that works for me and so I am suggesting it to you. You don’t have to take it,” he said with a smirk.
“What else do you do?”
“Create something,” he said, “though I try to focus on the physical construction of a project instead of the design.”
“Wait? Create as in art?” she asked, excited. Greg made a “mmmm” sound and Lily grinned, almost bouncing. She loved learning about her friends' hobbies. “What kind of art?”
“Promise not to laugh?” He asked, and Lily could have sworn the tips of his ears were a darker shade of red.
“Sure?” she said quickly, now even more curious about the answer.
“Ceramics,” he answered, almost mumbling the answer into his coffee.
It took a moment for the word to fully gain meaning in Lily’s brain, but when it did, she had an imagine of Greg sitting at a pottery wheel in some kind of frumpy get up like the pottery teacher at her college use to wear. She tried not to laugh at the image in her head, she really did, but she couldn’t suppress a giggle. When Greg raised an eyebrow at her, she tried to explain that it wasn’t him. It was the memories she had of the intro to potter class she took but that made it worse, and she dissolved into giggles. He just rolled his eyes.
‘Get it together,’ she told herself as she bit the inside of her check. Taking just another moment to swallow back another fit of giggles she asked, “can I see some of your work?”
“You laughed,” came the dry, toneless reply, “so no.”
For a moment, Lily thought that she may have hurt Greg’s feelings and was about to apologize profusely when she noticed the ghost of a smile on his face. She couldn’t suppress the second round of giggles but this time when she caught her breathe, Greg held out his phone, a photo album already pulled up. Taking it, she clicked on the first picture and any of her left-over amusement transformed into awe at what she saw. She had expected the work of a hobbyist, but Greg had clearly surpassed that skill. Every piece he had created was clearly crafted with delicate precision and practiced, skilled, hands. He had crafted everything from vases, to dishes, to the finniest porcelain figures. He had such a range of materials, and styles that his expertise was clear. “I have so many questions I want to ask,” Lily said coming to the end of the album and handing Greg his phone back.
“Save them for later. We’re here to talk about your nightmares,” he dismissed, and Lily scrunched up her face. “I wasn’t kidding about the rage room for you. You seem a lot like Bel where movement helps you both think and clear your head. Being able to channel the left-over emotions from the files into a harmless physical release would probably be good for you. Level two has them and don’t think employees have to wait….”
“You don’t think? Have you ever used them?” Lily asked and Greg shook his head, a sly smile forming.
“When you are the Master of Level Nine, you get to create your own rage rooms in all sorts of exciting and interesting ways,” he said.
“Oooohhh, that sounds fun!” Lily said, “Can I try your rage room?”
“No,” and he said the word so softly that it made any protest Lily could come up with die instantly.
Instead, she just asked, “why not?”
He was quiet for a long moment, his body completely still and face blank. “Because you don’t have it in you to torture anyone. What you do at the desk? The beat downs of epic proportions… that’s consequences, not torture. No matter how bad the soul, not matter the atrocities they’ve done, you would not be able to continue hurting them when they beg for mercy with every fiber of their existence. And trust me, that’s a good thing,” Greg said softly staring off at something that Lily couldn’t see, and she was fairly sure she didn’t want to. This was not the first time that she had the stomach-churning realization that Greg’s work was isolating. “But destruction can be a release similar to creating something. Basically, you just want to find a way to channel all the leftover emotions and energy into something positive or neutral, either one as long as you release it. The rage room would be good for you. So would sparring and I know at least one general pain in the ass who would help you do that. Just don’t embarrass him too badly in front of his soldiers, he hates losing.”
Lily laughed softly at that, though she recognized the attempt at deflecting any concern. She chose to respect it but stored away the information for future consideration. “Well, if we spar in his office, no one will know who loses…”
Greg sighed, “you two are going to be the reason we get another strongly worded memo.”
Lily cackled.
After waiting for her to catch her breath, Greg redirected the conversation back on track. “If you would rather talk things out with other people, the nightmares are pretty common experiences for the punishment levels employees. Several of them have support group. Level five and six both have regular meetings. I could ask the master of the levels if you could join one if you want.”
“Does level nine have support meetings?” Lily asked, curious. It was a little odd to think of the reserved and uncanny demons of level nine sitting around and discussing their own nightmares, but it made sense. Who better to understand what they were going through then those also going through it? Next to her, she felt Greg stiffen and she looked over to him, brow frowning.
“We do,” he said, voice a bit too neutral. There was a pause as he seemed to consider something before he cautiously added, “you would be welcomed.”
“But?” Lily gently pressed.
“There are very few places where we can be…creepy….” He answered then shrugged, “but you would be welcome.”
Lily suddenly remembered waiting for their coffee in the Cozy Bean and the nervous looks several demons had given Greg and the very careful way he had seemed to present himself. She bet he would have loved to sit in that shop and enjoy his coffee, instead he had found a hidden park where he could be alone. Where his presence wouldn’t bother anyone… ‘Be creepy?’ Lily thought, ‘you mean be able to be yourselves….’ She wondered for a moment if his hesitation to invite her to level nine’s support group was to protect his employees; to prevent a space they had built themselves from becoming yet another place they had to focus on not being creepy. “Maybe level five?” Lily said, sipping her coffee, “I think they get a better mix of souls, not all straight assholes….”
Greg nodded, “I can give you the master’s contact information, if you don’t already have it, or talk to him for you.”
“Thanks…” Lily said, looking out to the lava sea. “Greg, I appreciate this. It helps… knowing that I’m not alone… it helps.”
“It’s harder than most people realize, dealing with souls. It’s easier when you have a friend who understands,” he said, a tired half smile on his face.
Lily matched and returned the smile before returning her gaze back to the lava sea. “I still have questions about your pottery,” she grumbled, taking a sip of coffee.
Greg laughed.
-line-
“I still can’t believe he just told you he does pottery….” Bel grumbled, “You know how I had to find out? I walked in on him actually making something and he still tried to deny it. He just told you?”
Lily smirked, “He even showed me pictures of some of what he’s done.”
The look Bel gave her was a hilarious mixture of a pout and disgruntled annoyance. “Grumpy short bastard…he hasn't told me what he's been working on in months...” he grumbled making her laugh.
After her talk with Greg, she had decided to take the rest of the day off. There was a lot that she wanted to think through and process and so, while he headed back to work, she had headed to Bel’s office. They had, had a late lunch together while Lily told him about her conversation with Greg, or at least part of it. Mostly, she told him about his theory about the nightmares and his suggestions for what to do. There were other parts, the realizations that she had inferred and the small glimmers of his inner world, that felt important to keep in confidence. Bel had listened and offered his own insights when he could, helping to fill in the gaps of Greg’s theory. Unsurprisingly, he also agreed with some of the suggestions that Greg made, including the reading one.
“I know… I know… he gave me the same advice once, after a particularly bad deployment,” Bel had said when she glared at him. His eyes had grown distant as he remembered that time in his life, “I had been having nightmares and so I had gotten in the habit of reading at night. He’d suggested that it was making the nightmares worse and maybe I should stop for a couple of days. I punched him…” Lily had given him an incredulous look and he had shrugged, sheepishly. “We were sparring… but yes I felt like an asshole when I realized he was right.”
“Did you have your mom make him a pie?” she teased, and Bel had laughed.
Her phone buzzed, bringing her back to the present. It was a message from the Master of Level Five, introducing themself and sending her the information for their next support meeting. She felt a warm and fuzzy feeling in her chest, not only for the genuine sense of welcome she felt in the message, but also for the fact that Greg had so quickly made good on his promise. Not that she doubted he would, but she knew he was busy so the fact he had prioritized so much time to make sure she was okay was sweet.
“What’s that?” Bel asked popping a grape in his mouth.
“The information for level five’s support group… looks like they have one tomorrow, do you mind picking Sharkie up from school?”
“Nope. I bet she’d like to come see the training exercises the thirty-third has planned. It involves fire,” Bel said, with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
Lily narrowed her eyes at him, a stern look on her face, “do not teach our child how to commit war crimes.”
“I would never,” Bel said, but the mischievous look only spread from his eyes to his smile.
-line-
Just over a week had passed since Bel had last made his way down to level nine. While there hadn’t been any great sweeping dramatic changes in Lily, the support group meeting had defiantly helped. She now felt like she had a better understanding of what was happening and that meant she had a plan. Plans made her feel more secure and helped her from being overwhelmed and overthinking. All of this was encouraging and a relief.
Bel, and Lily, were both extremely grateful for Greg’s help; Bel especially since he knew how hard it could be for his friend to open up. He had texted Greg a few times over the last few days, hoping he could convince him to hang out so that he could thank him in person. However, he’d only gotten quick, one-word replies, or delayed, short, replies. It didn’t seem like Greg was upset or like something was wrong, so Bel assumed that he was busy. That assumption was proven correct when one of Greg’s administrative assistances sat in on the admin meeting in his place and informed everyone level nine would no longer be able to assist the other levels. That was a couple days ago, and Bel had sent Greg a text that simply said; “I know you’re busy. Let me know when you have a few minutes, and I’ll bring food.” Today, he’d finally gotten a reply requesting noodles.
So, noodles in hand, Bel let himself in to his friend’s office. The level nine demon that had greeted him at the entrance had told him that he was expected so he could just walk back and Gregorith would be there in a moment. Shutting the door behind him, he froze, his body suddenly tense; laid out on one of the console tables near his desk was Gregorith’s armor. Moving stiffly, a sense of dread washing over him, Bel set the food down on Greg’s desk and went to inspect the armor.
It was a beautiful set, crafted by the dwarven smiths Eitri and Brokkr. The set had the look and weight of reinforced leather armor but whatever material the brothers had used was defiantly sturdier, a fact Bel was grateful for. Greg’s armor was designed for agility and stealth, much like the military’s scouts’ armor. Unlike the scouts’, however, Greg’s was designed for close quarter combat and to withstand a specific type of enemy. It was dyed a muted black so that he could better hide in the shadows, except for the emblem of level nine which was stitched into the left shoulder pauldron in a blood red material complementary to Greg’s skin tone. It truly was a masterpiece of a set and Bel hated it.
There were a handful of reasons as to why Gregorith needed armor and would be wearing it, all of which were degrees of bad. Thankfully, the worst two reasons Bel could think of were not happening. As a general and a prince, he would have known if they were. Behind him the door shut softly, and he turned to see Greg standing there in the thick padded under tunic and pants that matched his armor. He carried two mugs of what smelt like ginger tea with him and met Bel’s grim gaze with a tired expression.
“If I had known you were doing executions, I would have waited,” Bel said, hoping his voice didn’t sound as choked as his throat felt. Executions could be dangerous, hell any of the reasons Greg needed armor for were dangerous, but the executions tended to worry Bel the most. Each time Greg took a soul to the void, that meant he too was exposing himself to the void and that was a hard fact for Bel to deal with. Then of course there was the soul itself; it was not uncommon for a soul to try and escape while being escorted to the void as well as other risks that were better left unspoken.
Greg shrugged, coming over to hand Bel his tea. “I don’t mind the distraction. Besides, I know how you feel about it,” he answered.
Bel swallowed back his sigh with a sip of the offered tea. There was an old argument between them, one that they had, had many times and would continue to have. Greg tended to censor the information he gave to friends, especially if he suspected the information would bother them. This often meant that he didn’t talk about work unless directly asked about it or it was absolutely necessary. A lot of people found this to be a relief, Bel was not one of them. He wanted to know what was happening in Greg’s life, even if it wasn’t the easiest thing to hear. After all, how many of his deployments and how many of his war stories had Greg endured? He chose to let the argument go for now, mostly because he could see how tired Greg was.
“It’s almost over,” Greg said softly, seeming to read Bel’s mind. “Tomorrow I finally get to sleep in my own bed.”
Bel glanced over to the couch where the pillow and blanket were still neatly stacked. “At least my couch is better than a cot,” he said, trying for a joke.
Greg laughed softly, “better than a lot of places I’ve slept.” With a tired sigh, he made his way over to his desk and shifted the stack of soul files and the mysterious journal over to one side, clearly making room for them to eat.
“How long do you have before…” Bel’s voice trailed off as he took the only seat across from Greg that was designed to accommodate wings.
“The next round?” Greg finished for him, looking up at a clock, “about an hour.”
“Good. We can finally catch up,” Bel said as he pulled the food out of the bag, “and I even brought a bribe with me,” he continued as he held up a take-out dish containing mango sticky rice. Greg eyed him both suspicious and amused. “This is to say thank you for helping Lily. I know that letting people in is hard for you and I really apricate your willingness to let Lily in.”
Greg shifted, uncomfortable. “She’s important to you,” he began but stopped when Bel made an “uh-uh” sound.
“You get the sticky rice when you accept the fact you did something good and it is apricated,” Bel said and laughed when Greg glared at him.
Taking a deep breath and shifting his gaze to the sticky rice before sighing and looking back at Bel. “You’re welcome,” he said, voice carefully neutral.
Bel laughed again and he set the rice down in front of him, “good enough.” He then leaned back, smiling smugly as he picked up his food and dug in. Greg, glaring at him again, picked up his own food and also began to eat. “So…” Bel said after they had both had a few mouthfuls of food, “You showed Lily your pottery? Just like that? Right after you voluntarily told her that you do pottery? After spending years, decades even, hiding it from everybody else?!”
Greg had to put his next bite of food down, so he didn’t choke on it while he laughed.