Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Free Fallin’
“Have you heard of the Garden of Salvation?”
The question haunted many residents of the Pride Ring. Hell was as uncomfortable as it could get, with the lost souls creating some creature comforts, yet the ever-present burning heat, heavy air, and contaminated breathing space made a life of luxury and care impossible.
Some managed to deal with their lot, accepting Hell’s punishment for what it was – eternal damnation. It wasn’t a holiday nor a reward.
Yet nobody knows for sure when it popped up, the Garden of Salvation became a household tale. A place where even the most wretched gained a soul, where temptation was replaced by compassion, and where redemption wasn’t just another word in a crossword puzzle.
Awed whispers speak about missing residents, who were never seen again after visiting the garden. They were purified, some argued. No, they were eaten; others were sure of that.
Nobody knew for sure since those who visited the place, almost always accidentally, and returned became changed people.
Whatever this Garden of Salvation was, it became a tale that rivaled the might of the devil of old. A power so strong and mighty, divine in nature, that transcended everything Hell knew.
It all started when a certain soul fell and made it everyone’s problem.
Accidentally, of course.
***
Kim Rok Soo was in Hell.
Somehow, this was the least of his problems.
So far, after his fall and the following rude, naked awakening, Hell had been treating him well. He wasn’t particularly surprised to have ended up there. It was more the suddenness of the situation that came as a shock.
Kim Rok Soo had killed many people. Some were monsters, while others were chased by monsters. The world went down the drain when the apocalypse hit, and it never truly recovered. Sure, civilization was built anew, but so much had been lost – most of all, the humanity people once had been proud of.
Monsters weren’t just those ghastly beings that feasted on human flesh and brought destruction to them. No, monsters came in all sizes and forms. A seemingly nice granny sold you for cabbage, a friend betrayed you for money, and even a family member deemed you less than something else – they fell faster from grace than even the devil himself.
Kim Rok Soo had suffered through a hard childhood even before monsters roamed the earth. He watched his uncle lose himself in alcohol and gambling before debt collectors ended his life early. Kim Rok Soo had been spared, living as if he were dead.
Money had always been tight. He learned how to deal with it.
Then, shortly after he completed his education and earnestly prepared to enter the ranks of cooperative slaves, the apocalypse collapsed the whole system. Skills, abilities, and mysteries entered the world.
He learned how to fight and made it his profession.
Looking down at his hands, he would always see red.
Oddly ironic and fitting that he ended up with blood red hair, falling down his back like a river made of the sins he committed. A physical red ledger, one could mockingly say.
Shaking his head to get rid of the sad thoughts, Kim Rok Soo shoved some of his hair over his shoulder. The length had been something he had to get used to. Most of the time, a braid solved his problems. It felt wrong to cut it, so he just went with containing the hair and trying not to trip over parts of it.
He poked a hole in the ground. Reddish-brown dirt, having been nurtured and cared for by him, made way for the seeds he scattered soon after. The ground greedily ate them up. On some days, Kim Rok Soo, who took on a new name after Hell’s residents just kept butchering it, was sure the ground was alive. He couldn’t prove it since it played dead whenever he tried to show anyone else proof.
The odd feeling of being watched, not dangerous or even predatory, followed him everywhere. Things moved to his convenience. His memory never failed him, yet many times, more often than not, items would hop around. He didn’t complain since it always made his life easier. It was just odd.
But it was Hell, so what did he know?
“Cale!” An excited voice shouted. The person arrived in a flurry of fur and dirt, faceplanting right next to the freshly dug vegetable spot Cale had just vacated.
Cale was the name he had chosen for himself. It meant “faithful, devoted, and wholehearted.” It was his ode to his human friends and the life he had lived and lost. A new chapter began, but the promise residing in his name made sure he never forgot the people he once called his family.
That and since he already was in Hell, he could mock himself alongside everything that amounted to him ending up down under.
The imp who had fallen into his soil was busy digging himself deeper instead of out. Tiny, red claws scratched the ground, involuntarily making the hole deeper the longer he struggled. Twisted horns wobbled left and right as the owner clumsily made an even larger mess.
Cale watched for an additional second before heaving a sigh.
“Calm down,” he said to both the ground and the imp. The effect was instant. The imp easily stood up, dripping with watered dirt and some seeds stuck to his cheek. The ground looked sad, which shouldn’t be possible, but Cale was out of fucks to give.
“I’ll give you more seeds later,” Cale promised. “For now, don’t eat my guests.”
Spinning on his heel, Cale walked back to the house. He didn’t look back, already knowing his companion would follow. The small tapping noises of the imp’s clawed feet confirmed his thoughts. Cale walked through the already-opened door, knowing he had closed it before tackling the ground, yet it greeted him with fresh, warm air and an open invitation.
The imp’s name was Isaac – a perfectly fitting name as the little guy always had a smile on his face and was seconds away from throwing his head back at the most boring joke.
Isaac came every week at least once with news about the other rings. His excited chatter filled Cale’s otherwise mundane days. There were many people who came and went; some stayed for a few days. He worked them to the bone because he wasn’t above exploitation. They all either left but came as visitors every so often, or they vanished entirely.
The other rings were more hospitable and nicer to him than the Pride Ring. Partially because they knew of his reputation and had no way of exchanging information with the other rings, which left Pride rather isolated. Cale was a lucky case since he randomly picked up imps from the trash can and brought them home. They always came back like raccoons.
Well, as for his reputation – Cale’s reputation was in the gutter.
The Pride Ring inhabitants were sure he was a cannibal or something equally dangerous, when in reality, he was just as confused as to where the vanished people went. They just disappeared randomly and without a pattern.
When he previously asked the earth around him, as lively and impossibly alive as it was, he got the general feeling of amusement back, which was of no help. The air was equally amused. Once again, no help.
Cale huffed and dropped the topic.
Since those people had been visitors and not as annoying as others, he kept their names on a large board. Of course, they were already etched into his memory – forever remaining there until they appeared in front of his eyes once more.
“Cale, are you listening to me?” Isaac asked, his voice full of complaints. The small imp had grabbed the offered cookies with relish, munching happily on the self-made treats. Some crumbs fell onto the table.
“Not really,” he admitted without guilt.
Isaac chuckled. This conversation had become their greeting. Cale would always drift off into his thoughts, leaving poor Isaac to repeat himself again and again. Luckily, he adored talking, and repeating himself was fun.
Tons of fun, even.
With another bite of delicious cookies in his mouth, barely swallowing, before he started chatting Cale’s ears off once more.
“Pride is Pride. Always a mess. Honestly, it has been centuries since the king has been spotted. My bet’s on him having kicked the bucket all those years ago, and the other Sins are covering it up. A kingdom without a king won’t work. Even Hell has a structure.”
Isaac happily gossiped about everything that happened last week.
“Did you know the princess has started moving?” The imp leaned forward, dropping more crumbs on Cale’s table. The Sinner eyed the mess with a sense of defeat, knowing he’ll have to clean up again soon enough.
Princess? Cale mused about what he knew. The Princess of Hell, the next in line to a dusty throne of past tales and forgotten power, was an oddity amongst the homicidal citizens of Hell. He met her once, briefly. Cale doubted she remembered him.
Her bright eyes and hopeful expression didn’t fit with the typical vibe Hell had going. She was naïve. Cale had many words, but some were rather rude, so he didn’t plan to voice them. Generally, she was naïve.
Extremely so.
His fingers itched to cover his ears, meeting her while she was singing one of her motivational ballads. They were so out of context and also incredibly rude to him; he saw no need to pay her any further attention.
Only the privileged and those who never suffered before could have such ideals. Even as Kim Rok Soo, he never once entertained the thought of redemption. You commit your sins. The least you could do is accept them.
“What did she do?” Cale asked. He wasn’t interested in the answer, other than wanting to know how close she would be to his small garden. The earth around his garden didn’t like people, and Cale didn’t have the energy or motivation to explain to the upper echelons of hell that his floor possibly had eaten the princess.
Isaac laughed boisterously. It seemed he was still processing the answer in the only way he could – heartily laughing and sounding like a lunatic.
“She built a hotel,” he shared the knowledge with a sweep of his arms. The grand gesture didn’t impress Cale much.
“A hotel?” He echoed.
Was she short on money, or why would she open such a dangerous place? In hell, nobody took a vacation. Or at least, nobody in the Pride Ring. Sinners were down there as punishment, and not for vacation.
Cale had heard about other spaces. The other rings, especially Lust and Sloth, had some fancy vacation spots. Some of his visitors raved about the many sights and interesting people they encountered. He was invited along often enough that Cale got used to automatically rejecting them.
Sinners were locked into the Pride Ring. They couldn’t get out, or at least, no one Cale had asked, except one hellborn, knew how to get out or if they even could. He was already in Hell, and surprisingly little suffering was involved. Cale wasn’t a glutton for punishment and finding out whether the barriers around the rings could hurt him was not on his priority list for the next seven centuries.
The hellborn had told him, drunk and out of his mind, that he wouldn’t get hurt, and instead, just end up hitting a wall. Cale watched him slump over the next second, his nose hitting the edge of the table with an audible crack. It hadn’t been the most convincing performance.
Fortunately, his visitors tended to bring him treats from the other rings. Rare honey from Sloth, nice fabrics from Lust, a handful of valuable seeds from Wrath, and even a fully equipped kitchen, produced in Greed.
The kitchen came with a marriage proposal that Cale rejected. The hellborn demon took the rejection with grace and instead asked for certain snacks when he visits Cale once a month. The last time he visited, he chattered excitedly about his new partner.
Back to the princess and her questionable choices.
Cale had no idea how vacations worked, as he had never taken one in his life. Well, too late for that now.
“A hotel,” Isaac confirmed, nodding vigorously. “For redemption.”
He spat the world like it was a curse. Hellborn, in general, found the idea of redemption to be funny. They gazed at the sinners who dreamed of redeeming themselves with pity and mockery. Cale couldn’t fault them.
“She thinks she can save those poor, unfortunate souls from eternal damnation by having group hugs and therapy sessions involving emotional chit chat. A recipe for disaster, I tell you.”
Isaac grabbed another cookie. The short imp, barely reaching Cale’s chest, stretched himself languidly on Cale’s furniture until his back popped loudly. Seeing Cale’s thoughtful expression, the usual cheerful imp spoke solemnly.
“Be careful, Cale. Better not get involved with the princess. Extermination Day is coming up soon, and whatever she is doing, it will, no doubt, backfire.”
Cale nodded tiredly.
It’s been a few years since he was first dropped into the pit. The first extermination was still fresh on his mind. It, like all the others that followed, was bloody and gruesome. Weeks pass, and the streets in the hazard zones remain painted an eerie red.
His small garden had never been hit before. A mercy, Cale was glad for but didn’t take for granted. He had wandered there after surviving the first Extermination. The angels, or executioners, somehow left him alone. They just gazed at him oddly before moving on to the next moving target.
Cale found a small hut on the outskirts of Pentagram City. Far away from all the death and civilization. Most districts were boring to him, either because the constant screaming and dying got on his nerves or because he didn’t want to fear becoming dinner the second he closed his eyes.
Over the years, probably decades at this point, Cale added stuff each year. He now proudly called this place his home. The hut had been transformed into a two-story building with enough space for guests, a fully stocked library, and more living space than he could have ever dreamed of while alive.
The surrounding wasteland became a luscious and vast garden. Trees of all kinds, vegetable patches, fruit bushes, and a cozy resting area. His favorite part was the hanging chair near the fruit bushes. When the bushes are in full bloom, Cale doesn’t even have to move from his comfortable spot to pick some delicious berries.
Death was great, which was an odd sentence.
“I know,” Cale said, reassuring his old friend.
Isaac threw him a look that spelled, “I don’t believe you.” They moved on from the conversation. As they chatted about the other rings, time passed quickly. Soon, Isaac left with a bag of cookies in his arms and the promise to come back soon again.
Cale waved, closing the door behind the excitable imp. Once he left, the house was shrouded in silence. Only a comfortable hum, like nature’s lullaby, accompanied Cale on a late evening reading session.
His feathers itched, as if feeling that someone was talking about him.
***
Cale’s period of rest was cut short when footsteps, late in the evening with the false sky turning an eerie, soul-sucking black, interrupted his peace.
A Sinner, easy to identify by the animalistic touches on their body, came stumbling into his garden. Blood coated their otherwise dirty fur. Sheep? Maybe lamb. Something harmless looking, at least. Cale caught them before they could fall.
Large, tear-filled eyes begged him for help. As the Sinner was bleeding on his doorstep and clothes, Cale pulled them inside. Heaving the frail yet surprisingly heavy Sinner onto his couch, Cale left to grab a pile of towels as well as first aid medicine.
The Sinner, probably male, but Cale didn’t want to assume, remained awake.
“Can I open your shirt?” The Sinner nodded shakily. As Cale made short work of cutting up the shirt, confirming he was, at least, biological male. There was a deep wound stretching across the Sinner’s chest like a badly designed belt. It was deep enough to have cut into some bones.
Cale clicked his tongue before diving right in. With practical ease, having gotten used to playing nurse to random, brutally injured sinners, he cleaned and sanitized the wound. Stitching him back together took longer as the man wiggled around.
“I know it tickles, but unless you want me to stitch you up the wrong way, stop moving.”
Properly chided, he stopped wiggling around.
Cale fell back into the nearby armchair. His already weak energy levels were utterly exhausted. The Sinner had the easier job since he directly fell asleep after Cale wrapped the closed wound in bandages. Sleepily standing up, Cale went to his bedroom and fell face-first into his bed.
A hum went through the house. Even though all windows and doors were closed, a gust of air ruffled the fur of the collapsed Sinner. It could be seen as a caress or a warning.
Over the next few days, William, the male Sinner, remained in Cale’s home. He rested comfortably and went out of his way to help Cale the second he could move without pulling his stitches. They talked a lot, while other times, the silence between them was just as comfortable.
“I had a wife and two kids, you know. Gosh, she was so pretty. I miss her dearly,” Willian admitted on his sixth day. They were both knee-deep in mud, harvesting some vegetables for Cale to sell.
Receiving a hum as acknowledgement, William continued.
“I hope they are in Heaven. This isn’t a place she and the kids can survive.”
William pulled an especially resistant carrot out of the ground. Squinting at the orange vegetable, he thought for a second it had a face attached to the front. His mind was probably pulling tricks on him again.
Cale said with a soft and understanding voice,” I am sure they are happy.”
“I hope so, I really do.”
As they worked through the patch, spending hours there, William shared more of his story. He was a normal office worker with a pretty wife, two kids, and no other family left. He earned enough for the whole family, allowing his wife to remain at home and take care of the kids.
One day, while he was pulling late hours, his wife called him. He missed the call, having been scolded by his boss in a meeting during that time. Calling her on his way home, Willaim grew worried when he couldn’t reach her.
The stench of blood greeted him at the door. All three were dead. He later found the culprit, a drunk man who had followed her from the convenience store. As rage overtook him, William ended the man’s life, sealing his own fate in the process.
He died the same year. A part of him was glad when he searched high and low, yet he hadn’t found any mention or body of his family in hell, yet he sobbed through the nights, knowing he would never see them again.
“I don’t regret it. The police said there wasn’t enough proof, and investigating would take a long time, enough for that bastard to flee the country or something. I just wish I could see them again.”
Cale listened patiently.
“You know, I see the scene of their deaths play out every night. Like it's mocking me. I can’t recall their happy, joyful faces. Only the dead, frozen ones.”
“Why are you down here?” Cale asked him. William looked at him questioningly. Was this a rhetorical question?
“I killed someone.”
“And you don’t regret it?”
“Never.”
Cale hummed once again. His voice was kind and unjudging. This wasn’t the sound of a mother listening to her child, exasperated yet loving, and neither was it the friendly intention as a friend had, faithfully listening even though they disagreed on a fundamental level. Cale was a wise stranger who knew nothing but the bare details William was willing to share, and somehow, the sinner felt understood.
Surprisingly, Cale spoke next.
“I don’t think so,” Cale said, breaking William out of whatever spiraling thought he was having.
“You regret it. Deeply. Maybe even the act itself, since it damned you. What drove you to the act wasn’t in your control, William. Be it your emotions, the way your hands were tied, keeping you away from the basic level of satisfaction. The police failed you first, just like how the culprit failed himself. You didn’t fail your wife. How could you have known her call would be the last one? What if she just accidentally hit the call button, but you got fired for taking the call?”
William wanted to interrupt. He wanted to stop Cale and tell him he was wrong. What did it matter in the end? He was in hell, rotting away till even the devil or whatever judgment saw him as useless. There was no salvation for a sinner.
The sin of having killed someone would always follow him. Just like the dry air of Hell, dusty and burning in his throat. However, maybe Cale was right in the other parts that William was blaming himself for.
He was just so tired. Day in and out, Hell welcomed him with death, fire, and destruction. He could never find peace here, which was the whole point, William supposed. How Cale managed to create such a beautiful, unhellish place, William will never know.
“Maybe,” he shiftily replied.
Of course, Cale was a hypocrite.
He knew that and would probably not change a single thing. His own sins followed the same example as William’s did, yet Cale was happy, or at least, content down here. He didn’t want to go upstairs, nor did he wish to be alive again.
The two worked in silence. Both missed the subtle, soft glow that surrounded William through their activities. It started as a small light, playfully wrapping around his body, only to grow the longer William came to terms with his sins and the role he played in his family’s demise.
Lying down on the guest bed, William closed his eyes, never knowing that this would be the last day in Hell for him. He disappeared in a flurry of playful lights, golden sparkles, and obnoxiously bright blue orbs that surrounded him fully.
Cale woke up, once again, to the realization that one of his guests had left. Hastily throwing on a coat that was specifically tailored for his new, hellish appearance, Cale walked downstairs. Almost grumpily, his first action was to throw open the back door and stare at the ground.
“You didn’t eat him, right?”
The ground returned his question with a feeling of mock outrage. Really, you eat one Sinner, and suddenly, you ate them all. Giving Cale the metaphorical shoulder shrug, the ground pointily ignored the crimson-haired Sinner.
Cale took that as a no. He hoped and wished William would find what he was searching for. Not spending another thought on his previous, temporary companion, Cale idly made his way to the kitchen and started preparing a nice, warm breakfast.
Eggs, bacon, and some juicy tomatoes made their way into the pan. It sizzled merrily, giving Cale the time to think about other things. Isaac’s visit, which had been almost a week ago, came to his mind. The princess had built a hotel, huh.
Cale saw no way that redemption was possible. Not just because Sinners were down here for a reason, but also because Heaven surely wouldn’t allow previously rotten individuals to reside in the holy afterlife.
Ignoring the implication that if someone could go up, others could fall down as well, the whole system was generally not well-explained.
Hellborn, the ones who actually received any kind of attention and information, didn’t care about sinners. What should it matter to them how the humans were divided? Cale barely cared, so it was no wonder that the Hellborn cared even less.
Well, Sinners just had to deal with their lot. The king who reigned as their sovereign had been absent enough that most were convinced that he had died ages ago, leaving the Pride Ring with absolutely no one to rely on. The Overlords were there and had their territories, but those inconsistent rulers changed with every season.
Cale flipped an egg and decided to stop thinking about bothersome things. The weather was nice today. He would go outside and check which vegetables were ripe for harvest.
***
While Cale was having a comfortable and cozy start to his day, Heaven was in shambles.
Not literally, but figuratively.
At first, the angels had been sure those random souls, once Sinners now proud Winners, were a fluke. One accident, it happens. Then another came. And another. Currently, they somehow have over thirty redeemed souls and absolutely no idea how that happened.
They tried asking. It went…odd.
The first one cried about a gentle, crimson angel. The second one sobbed. He just sobbed with not a single word leaving his mouth. The third one was a feline lady. She told them a kind soul offered redemption with the wisdom of a saint and the patience of a holy mother.
Those tales continued. They always matched in the absolutely unhinged description of a crimson-colored angel. Red was not a color any angel could acquire. Sure, red cheeks, a stray red lock here and there, or clothes made out of red fabric, but pure red hair wasn’t an option.
So, did they genuinely lose an angel down there, who continued doing the lord’s word…somehow successfully? Or was this some kind of displaced soul, keeping shreds of their kindness?
Michael had no idea. He was genuinely out of his depths, which happened seldom. The last time had been ages ago, when his brother fell.
With a sigh that was just one hundred percent done with everything, he didn’t flinch when another soul directly dropped down in front of his path. The Angel Overseer had been idly walking, only to witness another random redemption.
What made the whole situation even more of a mess was the fact that the redeemed Sinners didn’t appear in front of the gates, where one of the many saints could sort them. No, they directly dropped down in one of the many districts of Heaven, bypassing the gates completely. What the heck?
Another Sinner-tuner-Winner, male this time.
Michael smiled. The smile pulled the red dots on his cheeks further up, hiding his frown and complicated thoughts behind a kinder visage.
“Good day,” he greeted the disoriented soul.
“W-where am I?”
“Heaven.”
The soul blinked up at him.
“Heaven?” He repeated, almost breathlessly.
“Heaven,” Michael confirmed. To make his point, he motioned to the fluffy set of wings on his back, the white streets and buildings around them, and the gleaming, golden halo with silver sprinkles on top of the soul’s head – it was the symbol of redemption.
Normal souls had golden halos. There was a hint of any other color, yet the redeemed souls, previous Sinners, had mostly golden halos with admittedly pretty silver lines going through the otherwise solid gold.
“Huh, Heaven,” William said. Almost hysterically, he thought about making a drinking game out of the word ‘heaven’ if they continued having one-word conversations.
“Well,” Michael said, “since you bypassed the gates, let me welcome you to the heavenly body. My name is Michael.”
His introduction could have gone better, but honestly, there was a reason saints and holy maidens did the introduction. Michael had, what did Gabriel call it – ah, yes, a menacing aura that made it seem he was rather inclined to chew people into pieces that welcome them.
“Michael? Like Lucifer?” William asked. His mouth stood wide open as he took in the golden city and its extravagant lights.
“Eh, yes?” It has been ages since Michael had been compared to Lucifer, his fallen brother. Souls thought he and the other angels would smite them on the spot, when in reality, Michael just wanted to turn himself into a fluffy, wrapped burrito and weep.
“Cool.”
“…”
“How did I end up here?” William asked curiously. He poked the halo on top of his head, marveling at the smoothness of the object. It wiggled, almost falling off his head.
Michael replied slowly, trying to get the conversation back to more linear points. “You should know that better than we do. As a previous Sinner, tell me, how did you enter Heaven?”
“I have no idea,” William admitted with a shrug, “One second I was sleeping in Cale’s guest bed after he had patched me up and allowed me to rest in his home, the next, bam, I fall face-first onto your sparkly clean floor with a disco light on top of my head.”
“Cale?” Michael asked curiously. “Does he, by chance, have red hair?”
William snapped his fingers. “Yes! You know him?”
“Of him, but no, we didn’t have the pleasure to meet just yet.” Once again, this crimson angel redeemed a soul. Cale was his name. Odd, Michael didn’t know any Cale. It was a diminutive of Caleb, a proper biblical name.
“Say,” Michael started, only to blink when he realized he never asked the soul for his name. William realized what his pause meant and supplied him with a dry, “William, glad to make your acquaintance.”
Coughing, Michael continued his question after giving William a grateful nod. “How about you tell me all about Cale? In return, I will help you find your family and other relatives who have made it to Heaven.”
William asked with a small voice, “My wife and children, please.” He practically begged.
Michael pulled him off the floor and started leading the way.
“Of course, let’s head to the central. They have all residents listed with name and death date. We will find them in no time.”
William almost stumbled in his hurry to keep up.
As they walked through the golden city, it finally started to sink in that he really was in Heaven. This wasn’t just a dream, a nightmare, where he would wake up alone and back in Hell. No, Cale had helped William redeem himself, and for that, William would forever be loyal.
The rumors floating around about Cale being a cannibal suddenly seemed so stupid. William started laughing. Tears glided down his cheeks as he waved aside the concerned expression Archangel Michael was giving him.
With Heaven just starting to realize, and Hell none the wiser – the game had changed.
All because one soul, one sinner, was busy accidentally redeeming souls left and right.