The waiting room reeked of cheap Newport cigarette smoke and hellborn demons lounged around doing anything but work.
One of them was scratching his horns with a fork, another was openly making out with someone on the vending machine, and a third was drawing dicks on the walls.
However, one particular demon was rummaging through the fridge.
The door slammed open.
"Where's my cheese?!" Steven hissed, digging through shelves. "It was right here! It had my name on it—Steven's cheese!"
He whipped his head around.
Jerry was sitting at the table, happily gnawing on the stick of cheese he just so happened to be looking for.
Steven's eye twitched. "...Jerry."
Jerry looked up, cheeks puffed up like a squirrel. "What?"
"That's my cheese."
Jerry glanced at the stick, then back at him. "…Ohhh. You wanted some?" He held it out with bite marks running down the side.
Steven's veins bulged. "IT'S. ALREADY. MINE!"
Jerry blinked, still chewing. "So… no?"
"THAT'S IT!" Steven launched across the room, tackling him straight off the chair. The two rolled on the floor, Jerry somehow still holding onto the cheese.
"THAT'S MY FOOD!" Steven roared.
"Bro, chill, there's plenty left!—ow, stop biting!" Jerry screamed, still clutching the cheese.
In the corner, Martha sat in her booth with a cheese stick labeled Steven's cheese. She quietly took a nibble and rolled back into her booth without a word.
Meanwhile, Charlie sat upright on the white-stained couch, clutching her suitcase to her chest. "Okay. No big deal. Just a little… behind schedule. Thirty minutes late isn't that bad, right?"
[SPLAT]
She froze as a glob of glowing green snot whizzed past her and hit the wall right next to her head. The demon across the room grinned with rotten teeth. "Heh. Almost got ya."
Charlie's eyes watered as she whimpered. "Oh my god. Ew. Ew ew ew. Please no. Not the hair. Not the suit." She set her suitcase on the floor and tapped it away.
Razzle and Dazzle, meanwhile, were happily raiding the snack table. "Free food!" Razzle said, stuffing fried rat wings into his mouth.
"Best gig ever," Dazzle added, crunching loudly on what looked like a pancake with raisins—at least he thinks they're raisins.
Finally, the door creaked open. "Miss Morningstar?" a bored voice called.
Charlie shot to her feet, perking up like a spring. "Yes! That's me! That's me!" She waved frantically. "C'mon, you two, let's go!"
Inside, the office was dim, smoky, and smelled worse than the waiting room. Behind the desk sat a bald demon with greasy skin and sweat stains under his arms. He was hunched over a computer, chuckling at something that was clearly not safe for work on the screen.
Charlie put on the biggest smile she could muster. "Good morning, sir! I'm so sorry if I'm a little—"
He didn't even look up. "Yeah, yeah. Sit."
Charlie sat, clasping her hands together nervously. "Right! Okay. So, um—first, thank you so much for agreeing to meet me. I've been so excited to tell you about my project! I've been planning this project for a few months, and I really think it could change things here in Hell—for the better!"
He grunted, still watching his screen. His pen scratched lazily against a notepad.
Charlie leaned forward eagerly. "See, I want to buy a regular spot in your newspaper. A column where I can talk about my project. I'm calling it the Happy Hotel!" She spread her hands dramatically.
"Imagine a place where sinners can come not just to live but to grow. A rehabilitation centre with therapy and activities. It's a safe place where they can find redemption and maybe a way out of the cycle we're all stuck in."
The demon snorted. "Redemption? For sinners? That's the dumbest crap I've heard all week."
Charlie's smile faltered, but she pushed through. "No, please, just hear me out! Every year Heaven sends down exterminations. Thousands of demons are slaughtered. My people are slaughtered. And I don't want them to keep suffering like this! They deserve a chance to change—to maybe, just maybe—earn a place in Heaven one day. Don't you think demons deserve that chance?"
"Do I look like I care about charity cases?" He scribbled something and chuckled. "Look, doll, if you're not selling booze, pussy, or drugs, you're wasting your time."
Charlie's eye twitched, but she kept smiling nervously. "It's not a waste! I believe sinners can change. And I actually brought my step-by-step plans!" She turned to Razzle. "Razzle, could you go grab my suitcase from the lobby?"
Razzle gave a quick salute and zipped out the door.
She turned back, still giving that million dollar smile. "Anyway, so the idea is to create a cycle of improvement. It doesn't have to be all bad. I believe demons are capable of change, of growth, of finding something better for themselves. And if I can provide that space—"
"Retarded," he said, laughing and coughing. "Look, if you want to make a splash in Hell, I'll give you some free advice: lose the suit, show some skin, and maybe bend over my desk. You're a princess, right? I've never been with royalty before."
Dazzle growled low in his throat, wings flaring as he stepped forward. "Say that again. I dare you."
Charlie shot her hand up quickly. "No no no, Dazzle, it's fine! I've got this." She forced a smile at the demon. "Look, I really think you're underestimating how important this project could be—"
"Project? Pfft. The only project you should worry about is not embarrassing yourself in daddy's shoes." He leaned back in his chair, smirking. "You're just another spoiled brat playing charity worker. Hell doesn't need you. And Hell sure as shit doesn't need your daycare hotel idea."
"You sound like a kindergarten teacher. Newsflash: this is Hell. Nobody wants to be better. They just want cheap thrills. And if you think redemption is a ticket to Heaven, you're even dumber than you look."
Charlie's voice cracked as she tried to speak. "You don't… you don't know that. You haven't even—"
"Oh, I know." He chuckled cruelly, jotting more nonsense in his notebook. "Know what I'm writing here? 'Charlie Morningstar: Wastes my time. A stupid blue-blooded girl with dreams of sinners redeeming themselves.' That'll be the headline."
Her eyes went wide, tears threatening to well up. "That's—that's not fair! I'm trying to—"
"Fair?" He snorted. "This is Hell. Fair died a long time ago."
Charlie's hands trembled. "You don't understand. If even one demon could make it into Heaven, it would mean everything. Don't you want something more than just… this?"
"More?" He leaned back in his chair, smirking. "The 'more' I want is more booze, more cash, and maybe a princess bent over this desk."
Dazzle took another step forward, teeth clenched, ready to tear this guy's head off.
Charlie jumped up, flustered. "No! Dazzle, please, don't—" She turned back, forcing a nervous laugh. "You're really underestimating how important this project could be—"
Charlie was about to beg him not to when something caught her eye.
From the second-story window, down in the street below, she saw a flash of movement. Her heart dropped.
"Razzle?" she whispered.
She pressed herself to the glass. Razzle was struggling against glowing angelic ropes, bound tight and dragged into the back of a van by some hooded figures. He kicked and snarled, but they shoved him inside and slammed the door.
Charlie screamed. "Razzle!!"
She bolted for the office door, nearly forgetting her suitcase. Dazzle whirled around just in time to see it too. His eyes blazed with fury, but the car was already gone.
Charlie burst into the street, panicked. "No no no no no—what do I do, what do I do—" She fumbled for her phone. "I have to call Dad—"
Then she froze. She remembered—Razzle and Dazzle shared a connection and scent that could help them sniff each other out.
She grabbed Dazzle's shoulders. "Dazzle! Track him! Use your nose—please, you have to find him!"
Dazzle sniffed the air, his round pupils narrowing to pinpricks. His body stiffened. "I've got him."
Charlie's tail flickered. "Then what are we waiting for?! Go!!"
The two sprinted through the streets, weaving between demons and sinners. Charlie's lungs burned almost immediately. She gasped, clutching her side. "Thirty minutes—thirty minutes of running—oh god—why didn't I just keep the chauffeur?!"
"I told you, take those Zumba classes!" Dazzle yelled back, but he didn't slow down. "C'mon, Princess!"
Finally, panting and drenched in sweat, she stumbled to a stop in front of a grimy warehouse. Hooded figures slipped in and out, carrying crates.
Charlie bent over, wheezing. "Okay… okay. Bad day. Very bad day." She looked at Dazzle. "But we're getting Razzle back. No matter what."
Dazzle nodded, glaring at the warehouse. His brother was in there.
Charlie took a deep breath before walking into the warehouse... never noticing a dark figure two blocks away eyeing that very same building.
"...Found you."