“When A Flower Blooms In Hell”by J.R. Rustrian Dear Nicon, It was so good to read your last letter and even better to see the care package you’ve sent me. I couldn’t believe that I’d forgotten my stash of sulfur and bones at home. I hope the latest paycheck is enough to pay for at least two months’ rent. We can’t afford to get evicted from yet another place and our latest landlord is just waiting for a chance to kick us out. It’s been an interesting time here at the Lake of Fire Recreational Area. I have to admit, I was nervous when I first started here, but I feel like I’m starting to settle into a routine here. My co-workers are much younger than I am, as most of them are barely starting their university training. It can be difficult to relate to them because most of the time they are sharing gossip about who is dating whom and what parties to attend that weekend. You know me, Nicon, I’d rather be at home with a good book of satanic spells, drinking an aged cup of blood. I spend most of my time here working alone, struggling to keep up with the younger, stronger demons. The work of a Recreational Assistant takes a certain amount of effort and I often find myself falling behind everybody else. I’ll tell you something, Nicon, loading meat wagons full of rotting and flailing human carcasses is tiring work. My coworkers make it look easy, and I suspect they don’t like to work with me because of that. I’ve found it easier to just go off by myself, clean up charred human bones and remind myself that the money here is much better than what could be made back home. Thoughts like that keep me company when I’m out in the field working, or else I’d throw myself into one of the lava pools with the rest of the damned souls. On the third day, they put me to work moving and re-staking the Impalement Gardens. It’s tough, messy and tedious work. The impaled souls wail in torment as you lift up the stakes and reposition them, leading the eyes of relaxing demons and fallen angels square on you. I’ve never been one for the limelight, and so I try to finish my work as quickly as possible so I can run back into the safety of the recreational center. Days like those make it tough to not call it quits and come home, but then, I’m reminded of our struggles. The meager rations. The ragged clothes. The long days of begging. Yeah, I’m not eager to go back to that. If that means I have to work endless days physically eviscerating every single damned soul that crosses the lake, then so be it. Don’t let that be a sign of despair, Nicon, but rather just thinking about if I had chosen a different path in this afterlife. I’m writing to you during my break so I better wrap this up. My supervisor, a peppy demoness not too much older than myself, is going to show us the latest in skinning and flailing technology and I have to say, I’m not the least bit interested in relearning something I learned in grade school. Take care, brother. Hellishly yours, Aza *** Dear Nicon, The days have started to blend together. I wake up every hellish morning to the swirling maelstrom above and frown. It takes me back to our days off from school, when we would try to entertain ourselves in the empty poison mounds near our home. We would stare up at the gaping hellmouths above and try to count the endless human souls falling to their doom, before falling asleep to the sound of mortals suffocating from the toxic sludge around us. Those were better times, brother. It brings me some comfort in the lonely, tiring days here. Lately, they’ve been working me to death on the torture racks, which require resetting after the body breaks apart. I must’ve reset the same soul over fifty times yesterday. The other demons don’t seem to mind it, but it’s just so repetitive and dull. It makes me wonder whether or not I was meant for this. Or am I even meant for anything at all? The days would be pure torment if it wasn’t for this demoness I met here named Scarlett. She’s a funny demon, older like myself and also only here for the paycheck, a result of having two little bundles of despair at home and a fallen angel who refuses to work. It’s a relief to meet someone here that admits how boring and soul-crushing the work is. Despite all of that, she still exhibits a good attitude and even excels at fielding questions from the public and wrangling stinging insects for the diseased souls near the playground. I’m glad that I’m not alone here, but I’m never one for demonic interaction. I try to stay away from the groups of vacationers, health fanatics and families who come to see human souls try to balance their way across a scorching sea of pure fire. Their questions can be annoying and never-ending and keeping kids from touching the suffering masses without proper protection is the worst torture one can endure around here. There’s one great part here, however, and that’s the foothills towards the back end of the park, away from the frolicking crowds, near the river of boiling blood which flows down into the lower levels of the Inferno. It’s secluded, quiet and, best of all, a great place to take a break from the tedium of punishing the damned. In the days since my last letter, I’ve often found myself sitting near one of the many alcoves, watching the swirling vortex of fire and brimstone above or just listening to the babbling creek beside, watching the violent damned boiling in torment. I wonder how my life got here. We should’ve been elsewhere by now, either enjoying ourselves on the shores of the Styx, enjoying paid torments in the city of Dis or vacationing near Limbo. It makes me wonder why I even went to university and wasted my time in learning skills that I am not even putting to use here, such as those studies into mortal culture and physiology. Either way, brother, I have to believe that we will come out stronger. Hellishly yours, Aza *** Dear Nicon, Things have been getting interesting to say the least here at the Lake. Workwise, the job has been getting vicious as my instructor has started myself and Scarlett on the vivisection field renovations. I couldn’t tell you the many hours of shifting operating slabs, wiping down viscera and strapping down flailing souls that it took to complete that project. Poor Scarlett, as dynamic and chipper as she is, would nurse her aching hooves each moment she had to herself. The little patch near the alcove became my refuge, my safe place, my second home, if you would call it that. Picture the yard in our old home. Try to remember the gnarled oak trees covered in screaming faces, feel the hot gravel underneath your claws and hooves, taste the burning ash in the air and you might get some semblance of the tranquility that this little piece of Hell had to offer. It was like playing hide and go seek in our younger years again. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a hint of green. I was never a superstitious demon and I chalked it up to my own exhaustion, but the green stayed there, never straying from my vision. Curiosity got the better of me. I lumbered over towards the alcove and froze in my tracks. It was unbelievable what my eyes fell upon, almost bordering on the horrifying. It was tiny, no taller than four inches and so fragile even a gentle breeze could knock it over but radiated a feeling of terror so absolute it was difficult to look at. The thin, oval petals, overbearingly white and circling the fluffy yellow center, were supported by a thin, green stem from which small, green leaves poked out at random intervals. It was what the humans called a “flower.” The ground seemed to fall beneath my feet as I stumbled back from the sight. What was a flower doing here in Hell? What sort of unmerciful God would allow such an abominable sight such as this? The flower swayed in the hellish wind, taunting me with its mere presence. Fear overcame me, paralyzed by indecision. My first instinct was to stomp on it and forever be rid of its welcoming presence. It’s possibly what any normal demon would’ve done, but there was something about it that was…enticing. Something attractive. Something beautiful. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before. I caught myself before I examined it more and so, out of fear, I ran away back to my duties of punishing the human damned. All day, my co-workers asked about my agitated state. I lied to them and told them that a park patron had been aggressive towards me, even when Scarlett asked. She smirked at me when I told her. I wondered if she was able to see through my lie. I’m at a loss of what to do. Should I go back and stamp out the infestation? Should I alert my instructor and let them know what has invaded the Lake of Fire? Either way, sleeping is going to be difficult. The small plant is still out there, laughing and taunting me, slithering into my dreams and mutating them into happy thoughts. Keep me in your thoughts, Nicon. Hellishly yours, Aza *** Dear Nicon, The days have rushed by since my last letter. Out there near the foothills was that little piece of the mortal world, sitting there and taunting me with its presence. I haven’t dared go back to check on it, for fear its power would overcome me. Or maybe it already has, since I can’t stop thinking about it. The flower has invaded my dreams ever since I first found it, causing me nights of restless sleep and making me even less popular among my peers in the dormitory. Not even the wailing of the damned has been able to help. I’ve had memories of our time in school creeping back into my mind, like when we would write notes on scraps of human skin and pass them to each other during torment lessons. I only remember because our teachers would try to drill into our heads about how dangerous the world above was. Stay away from anything mortal, they would tell us, they have an effect on demonic things and are strictly banned because of this. Our teachers likened objects from the land of the living like pieces of radiation, affecting any demon or anything that came near with an invisible, unseen effect. As to what, they never really said. We always thought it was just fluff from teachers trying to scare us away from earthly things. I remember the urban legends about wayward demons stumbling onto objects from above, such as the one about the kid who found a piece of a human building that had mysteriously appeared out near the Stygian wastes. Story had it that the kid had gone insane, trying to rescue damned souls from their torment and then was never seen again. I shuddered the first time I heard it and I shudder even as I’m writing it to you. Could you possibly imagine losing your mind and, even worse, trying to rescue the damned? I hope you can forgive me, bro, as I wasn’t strong enough to keep this secret to myself and entrusted it to my new friend Scarlett. I approached her yesterday as we were setting up chains and hooks for the newly arriving damned. Something got into me and I started whistling a strange tune. She turned to me and gave me a disgusted look as no self-respecting demon would be caught dead whistling at work. I looked at her and, for a second, thought that I shouldn't reveal the existence of the flower. Scarlett already had so much going on, and this would just burden her even more. There was also the mere fact Scarlett would turn me in like a good demon should. I was petrified at the thought. Losing this job Then, she sneered at me, and that’s when I realized that she had noticed me keeping this from her. “You found something, didn’t you? Over by the foothills?” she asked much to my amazement. “I think it’s best if I showed you.” I said. Before I knew it, we had hiked to the foothills along the blood river. My whole body trembled as we approached the site, like if we were trespassing into the personal domain of the Devil himself. Scarlett let out a holler as we both stumbled back. It was worse. It was far worse than I remembered. Scarlett had been promised a solitary white flower, and what we happened upon was a tiny garden of the horrible creatures, surrounded by a patch of green grass. The smell was overpowering and pleasant; the colors bright and cheerful. It almost made me vomit. We stared at the sight for a bit, keeping a distance, before Scarlett took her first, careful steps towards it. I would have asked what was wrong with her, if I hadn’t also been stepping closer to the garden. The flowers, so told to us as dangerous and deadly to the underworld, sat there idle and unassuming. “This…this isn’t a dream…is it?” she asked me. I shook my head. We were awake and lucid. A garden had somehow sprouted in Hell. The urge to touch a flower overcame me and I reached out to touch the original flower. Its petals were soft and fluffy and its stem was rigid and fuzzy. For all intents and purposes, it was harmless, at least for now. “Aza, come!” I heard Scarlett call to me. “There’s something going on here!” I looked up and found her inspecting the small alcove itself. She reached out and waved in the air at the entrance and then pulled it back as if something had whipped her fingers. I asked her what was the matter. “It’s…cold. Like in Cocytus, but that shouldn’t be, should it?” she asked. I walked over the alcove and confirmed the cold. What was it doing so high up? There was something off about that alcove, brother. Fear got the better of us and we dashed away before something inside that place reached out and slaughtered us. As I’m writing this, Scarlett is sitting across from me, her eyes dashing back and forth. There’s something in her mind, trying to process the mysterious place. Maybe she thinks it’s haunted, or is some sort of holy place where we shouldn’t be trespassing. I’ll ask her tomorrow. Hellishly yours, Aza *** Dear Nicon, Anxiety kept me up most of the night, as the thought of the illegal garden was too much for me to bear. As the next shift came, I searched out Scarlett near the female dormitories, only to be told that she had started her work early. A chill went up my spine and into my horns. There were only two places she would go to right now: to our instructor to turn me in for not reporting the flower garden, or to the alcove itself. I wrestled with which one would be the most preferable. I gingerly walked along the blood river, swatting away the wailing souls that attempted to climb out. My heart pumped. What I wouldn’t give to be one of those souls in the river right now. I secretly prayed that the alcove was just some figment of my imagination, that it was just a lucid dream that I thought in my lowest moments. Then, I found Scarlett sitting near the garden, smiling and gazing into the mysterious alcove. I approached cautiously, as if whatever this was had a hold on her. She patted the ground next to her and invited me to sit, not taking her eyes off of the void. “It’s a portal,” she said, “to above.” “A portal to where?” I asked her. “To the mortal realm, Aza. To Earth.” I took my gaze off of her and turned it into the alcove and, suddenly, it all became clear. The cold, the flowers, the grass. It was all coming out from this alcove, spilling into our little park. “How do you think it happened?” she asked me. I shrugged and told her about rumors of demons playing around with forbidden rituals to see into the living world, as some of the urban legends went. She then told me about a rumor about a special day of the year where the boundaries of the afterlife and mortal realms weaken, letting us see into their world. “Or maybe it was just a huge mistake.” I said, “Either way, it’s dangerous and we oughta let somebody know about this.” “True. If we’re caught sitting here, we’ll get fired, or banished from the Inferno. These things from above, they’re not supposed to be here. They can mess up the ecosystem here or something, at least, that’s what I learned in school. But, just look at them, they aren’t really doing anything. Just existing.” “We’re probably the only two demons who have ever seen an actual flower in the flesh. It’s starting to be an interesting day, don’t you think?” Whatever the reason was, Scarlett and I continued to stare into the portal in silence, trying to commit the feeling into memory. I glanced over at her, and noticed her standing there with her black eyes transfixed on the garden and a gentle smile on her face. There wasn’t a trace of fear or anxiety to be found within her, only a level of confidence that I’ve been chasing my entire life. She had an entire family to support at home, I thought, how was she able to be so close to something that could potentially get ourselves in trouble, or worse? It was nice to just sit there, however, away from the hustle and bustle of the park, away from our financial problems, away from the burden of having to figure out what to do with your life. The fear of the invasion from above was gone for a moment, replaced by a strange serenity that I had never experienced before, something that other demons would want to pay to experience. Then, an idea hit me like a spear. Other demons would absolutely pay to see this. Forgive me, brother, as I am writing this, Scarlett and I are working up a plan to present this to our instructor. I’ll write with more news as soon things are put into place. Wish me luck that the next time I write, I’m not wrapped in chains. Hellishly yours, Aza *** Dear Nicon, Sorry for the lack of communication. There’s so much happening at the Lake of Fire as you can imagine. So many things have changed here and it’s all thanks to our incredible idea. I wondered, instead of being so scared of the flower, why not replace it with curiosity? So Scarlett and I got to work putting together a proposal about turning the flower into an attraction. People love sideshows, after all, and so did our supervisors. They could see the gold coins spilling out of their pockets and immediately approved it. Scarlett had experience in negotiating contracts, as, at one time in her life, her career pointed her towards creating contracts for demons to use when they make deals with mortals for their eternal souls. It sounds boring to me, but to each their own. You should’ve seen her when we presented our idea to our bosses. It made me, well, jealous, I guess you could say? If she’s so talented in contract negotiations, then what would be my talent? It took a few days, but after confirmation, the other Recreational Assistants and I got to setting up the attraction to complement what the Lake of Fire already had to offer. We called it the “Vision of the Living World Exhibit” and it's already attracted dozens of demons, shades and fallen angels of all walks of life to our little park. The whole place feels like a carnival with families and other onlookers milling about the length of the park. We even have food stalls and souvenir stands to boot. That’s not even the craziest thing, Nicon. Yesterday, as if the flower wasn’t enough, we discovered six more flowers budding from the small patch of cursed soul. They aren’t as majestic as the main specimen, but are certainly a sight to behold. The crowds are increasing every day and it’s getting harder to corral everyone into a place where they can get a good look. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many people not blink at the same time. Demons are entranced by the living world. For eons, we could only speculate at what it might be like up there, save for what possessor demons would report back in secret. We could always ask a damned soul, but how would we even make out what they’re saying from all their wailing and despairing? This is the closest anyone of us will ever get to getting a complete picture. I’ve found myself inspecting the garden and grass around the alcove very closely. Scarlett laughed at me as we were setting up the attraction. She commented that I looked like an investigator hard at work. I answered back that I merely wanted to make sure that everything was going to plan. No need to get too invested in the human world, but it’s very interesting to say the least. I miss you very much, bro. Was the checkup to your standards? It’s a negotiated fee for one week’s worth of work! Can you believe it? It feels like things are certainly looking up. Make sure you put that money to good work, like our debts and bills, but also treat yourself to something nice. You deserve it considering you’ve been holding our home together. Can’t wait until I see you. Hellishly yours, Aza *** Dear Nicon, Something odd is happening around here that I don’t quite understand. It’s as if some unknown, invisible force is stalking us and we’re unable to do anything about it. I woke up in the middle of the night to a deserted park, save for the tortured souls who so deserve to be here. It’s a different place when there are no other demons around. Maybe I’m just so used to the crowds that visit our lake that it’s bizarre to see this level of inactivity. The presence was so thick that I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I decided to take a walk. I wandered over to the back where our precious money-making alcove was, scared that it may have disappeared or collapsed. What I saw stopped me dead in my tracks. A tree. An honest-to-badness tree. Not some gnarled oak, twisted and bent into familiar horrific shapes but a tall, majestic evergreen which seemed to pierce into the hellish sky. Its leaves were a brilliant green, wide and full of life. Its bark was full and healthy with a verdant moss growing in patches across its surface. The entire trunk swayed as if it had just conquered a foreign land. So taken was I with its height that I almost neglected to see the numerous bushes that dotted its feet like demon children surrounding their mother. Each one of these leafy monstrosities supported numerous red berries with green stems. Now, I’ve never known you to judge me in any capacity, but I have to confess that the urge to taste one of these berries was overwhelming. And so, I did. The taste was sweet, sour and juicy, unlike the bitter herbs or raw flesh we feast upon. I gorged myself on several, eating until the shame was too much to bear. Paranoia flooded inside me and I stepped back, taking in the true scale of the site. Scarlett and I’s little garden was growing. As to how much, I didn't know. What’s happening here, bro? I feel as if I stepped into something I don’t fully understand. Were they right to tell those stories in school? I would hope not. I’ll write later and, hopefully, these feelings will dissipate. Keep a look out for those checks. Hellishly yours, Aza *** Dear Nicon, Scarlett roused me out of my slumber with excitement dripping out of her fangs. She dragged me over to the exhibit to be greeted with a veritable grove of evergreen trees, large berry bushes and several gardens surrounding the mysterious alcove. Yes, the site was growing, but that could be managed. I asked her what she was so worked up about. “No, not the ground! Look up!” she said, raising a singular claw to the green canopy. I couldn't believe what my eyes had seen. There, among the branches and leaves, was a solitary, white bird. A dove, as the mortals call it. It sat there, tweeting and singing its love song. The sound was grating and annoying, like a horrifying whisper of love. “This is going to put us on the map, Aza!” Scarlett said to me “There’s probably a whole nest of them up there!” A chill went up my spine. A whole nest of them? What does that even mean? But Scarlett’s excitement was too infectious and quickly overcame my concerns. I eagerly went to my posts, coming up with a way to introduce our new dove companions to the visiting crowds. Once word had spread, the park filled to capacity, with demon families trying to get a closer look at the visitor from the world above. It was as if time had been robbed from me, because the next memory I have is walking back to the dormitory, laughing and cheering our success with Scarlett. I think she might have noticed it too, since we immediately stopped and went our separate ways. It was a strange thing to have happened. Demons aren’t usually known for laughing and cheering at successes. We do it whenever we cause mayhem to those who deserve it, as our Creator intended. I fear that this alcove, this portal to the living world, is having an effect on us. I’m too sure, brother, but maybe I’m just overwhelmed with my duties today. Besides, this exhibit is putting the park on the map and making us known for more than just throwing sinners into burning brimstone pools. For the first time, my name is known outside of our family. People ask for me whenever they come to the park. You should see their faces light up when they set their eyes on the gardens and trees. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Scarlett happier than when we first started working here. Things are definitely looking up. Let me know how things are at home. Hellishly yours, Aza *** Dear Brother, This was never what I wanted. The Lake of Fire…isn’t what it is anymore. The authorities are watching me with a keen eye. Out of mercy, they allowed me a quill and paper to write this letter to you. They think I’m a madman after what happened today. Let me explain to you so you’ll get my side of the story. I trudged out of bed this morning, with an energy that I didn't possess when I first arrived here at the Lake of Fire. We expected a large crowd today, and I didn’t want to miss a second of showing them all the wonderful sights and sounds. All around me, there was the sound of laughter, playing and cheering, but it was a strange sort of joy that I’d never heard before. The cheering came from my left and I quickly realized that I was standing next to the Impalement Gardens. I looked up and saw, to my horror, that the laughter was coming from the damned on the stake. A wide grin greeted me, even though the soul’s innards were spilling out into a pile of mush. It was as if he were enjoying the punishment. Terror overcame me. I looked around and spied smiling, happy families vacationing on our little piece of Hell. Patches of grass and flowers, accompanied by small, harmless insects covered the landscape. A chill raced up my spine. I rushed to the exhibit, where Scarlett had begun setting up for the day. She smiled widely and waved me over. “Beautiful day, Aza! I can’t wait to start our shift!” she called out, sending me a friendly wave. I surveyed the area. Gone was the steaming hot gravel and broken bones, replaced by lush green grass and flowerbeds. Trees covered the foothills surrounding the alcove like boils on a plague-ridden soul, replacing barren ground with verdant, rolling knolls. I couldn't be sure, but I was certain that I could see white clouds forming in the skies directly above me. The demons and fallen angels eagerly awaiting the exhibit laughed and played with one another, calling out, “Good Day!” to the supposedly punished souls in the blood river, who answered back in kind. The sound of human voices, free from the sound of torment, chilled me. Why couldn’t anybody see what was happening? It was wrong. It was all wrong. Our twisted, evil home was turning into a wonderland of smiling faces and chipper tunes right before my eyes. Whatever the alcove had unleashed was bringing…hope, corrupting not only the land, but the people as well. Their laughter was unnatural and not of this world. I’d had enough. I needed to put a stop to it, immediately. What happened next was my only choice and rumors will go around of what happened, but don't pay any attention to any of it. They’ll say I went nuts and attacked the trees, stomped the gardens and slaughtered the birds which had made their homes in the green canopies. I will admit the thought had crossed my mind, but in order to rid us of this infestation, I had to stop it at the source. The alcove needed to be destroyed. I rushed past the exhibit, nearly colliding into several visitors, and stopped at the alcove’s entrance. The cave is twice as tall as I am and made of solid brimstone. Inside, the earthen ceiling was sandy and gravelly, like the ground outside. It was soaked in blood flow from eons of the lake flooding and receding. That’s when I got the idea of collapsing the chamber as there was no way such an unstable feature could withstand a concentrated blow from a mature, strong demon like myself. I spied an executioner’s axe near one of the food booths, used for chopping wood and human body parts, all of which went into the vendor’s pots and fryers. I “borrowed” it and savagely attacked the ceiling of the alcove, screaming and frothing at the mouth as if I were Cereberus feasting on the slothful. The crowd around me stopped celebrating and turned their attention towards me. Scarlett, who was entertaining a small group of demon children, realized what I was doing and attempted to stop me. She was too late, however, as the ceiling of the cursed alcove collapsed in on itself. Seconds later, the cave was no more than a pile of brimstone and hot sand. I stared at the pile, satisfied that my task had been done, before a pair of security guards grabbed me by my arms and dragged me away. As of writing this, I sit inside one of the recreational center’s meeting rooms under close watch. I can hear my superiors outside whispering in voices, discussing what is to be done with me. I feel like a prisoner awaiting their execution or…maybe a human soul waiting to be judged by King Minos. The irony isn't lost on me, brother. Is this empathy I feel? Or is the alcove still having some sort of effect on me? I’m tired. Very tired. Like my life has been drained from my body. At this point, I don't really care about what happens to me. What matters is that terrible influence is finally purged from the park. Keep me in your mind, Nicon. Take care of yourself. I most likely won’t be there to do it for you. Hellishly yours, Aza *** Dear Brother, It’s a miracle! Yes and, in Hell, of all places. They let me sleep my mania off as there was too much to do regarding the cleanup surrounding the alcove. The night, despite the events of the day, finally let me rest and the nightmares of the world above were finally silenced. It was the most restful sleep I’ve experienced in weeks. The morning brought more good news. My supervisors decided that flogging and flaying would not be necessary, as the park began to return to normal and any trace of the mortal infestation was nearly gone. Everybody could feel the spell’s influence on their minds weaken with each passing minute. Upon returning to normal, the destruction of the mortal world exhibit began in earnest. I have never seen so many demons chop down so many trees and churn up mounds of dirt. No flower petal was left standing when they were done with it. Scarlett eventually settled down into her normal, terrifying self. She was a bit sad that all of our hard work was destroyed in the span of an afternoon, as was I. It took all of our courage to go up to our superiors and get the ball rolling in the first place, after all. In the end, I think she was just glad that we weren’t going to be flailed, skinned alive or drowned in pitch. I think the relief gave her a sense of purpose, as she decided several hours ago that she would return to her home to her family. We had earned more in these past couple of days than we had in the past month and that would at least buy a week or two of time with her loved ones. I congratulated Scarlett and encouraged her to find something in the business field. If she could cook up something like the exhibit in our tiny park in a week’s time, imagine what she could do at a major company! I expect her future to be a bright one. “What are you planning on doing?” she asked me. I shrugged. Staying at the Lake of Fire was probably not the best course of action, but what else was there to do? At that moment, I lamented that I had gone back to square one. “You know a lot about the human world, Aza. People would kill to get the knowledge you have. There’s courses that can help you.” Scarlett waved goodbye to me. I bid her a safe trip and watched the maintenance demons finish off whatever remained of the cursed alcove. Her words still bounce in my head. I had never considered going back to school but now it seems like it’s within reach. If Scarlett and you think so, then it's very much possible. I’ll be returning home soon on the next train out of here. There’s so much about the living realm to learn and there are places that will accept somebody with my caliber of knowledge. For the first time in a long time, there is actually a hope in Hell. Hellishly yours, Aza ![]() J.R. Rustrian is a Latino writer of speculative fiction living and working in Southern California. When not writing, you can find him cooking, hiking and playing video games. You can find his work in Bards and Sages Quarterly, Hispanecdotes, and Etherea Magazine.
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