Chaosverser

Tower of Hell: Sineville of the Seas, Book 2, Chapter 137

Attention Patreons! For the upcoming rerelease of Tower of Hell, I'll be returning to smaller chapters multiple times per week. Book Two will continue but right now I may only post one or two chapters a week until I'm done editing the earlier chapters. Thanks for your understanding. Late April I hope to have everything posted and I'll be working on writing 2-3 chapters per week for my Patreons.

“Done,” Jonas nodded without considering the trouble it would be to accomplish all the requirements laid out by Old Louie. “I’ll get the money first, and we can achieve the other two before the entry.”

“Mother fucker,” his master grumbled. “You never listen. It’s so frustrating. I don’t think you’ll accomplish all the goals. What? Are you going to ask big Phillip Glatorius for the cash?”

“No,” Jonas shook his head. Although the thought crossed his mind, he didn’t want to rely on his benefactor anymore. “I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

“Where did you hear about the tourney, anyway?”

“A stripper. She mentioned they were holding the tournament unusually early, which she suspected meant they had a golden ticket as a prize.”

“A stripper?” Old Louie looked dumbstruck. “You’re going off all this on a rumor from a goddamn stripper?”

“She wasn’t just a dancer. She was a talented Hunter. I’m not proficient in Sin Sense, but I can still feel when someone is capable of whooping my ass.”

“Interesting,” Old Louie stroked his newly groomed beard. “A talented young Sinner who works as a Stripper? If your Cardinal Sin were Lust, I’d send you to do something similar.”

“What are you saying?”

“The stripping is probably a way of training. I guess she has a strong master who sends her out on tasks. Lust isn’t always about sex. It’s about intense desire and a longing feeling. It’s about chasing those desires and acquiring them. However, sex is usually involved, and Hunters happen to be attractive. Perhaps, her Original Sin is seduction related.”

“No shit,” Jonas scrunched his brows and thought back to when he’d dropped all his Dream Dollars on Athena. “She might’ve used a technique on me without me knowing.”

“Did you suddenly desire to be near, impress, and win her favor?” Old Louie shook his head.

“I did.”

“I’m guessing she used some technique on you. However, she’s still mastering it against Commoners, which means she isn’t proficient enough to trick a Sinner properly. She managed to nab some money off you because you can’t use Sin Sense or Sin Shield, which would’ve helped for your protection against mental attacks.”

“She used some sort of External Sin Sorcery to penetrate my mind and influence me?”

“Exactly. It’s easy to sway the mind when you’re unsuspecting. Original Sins and Sin Sorcery that involves mental attacks are powerful but rely on trickery, deceit, and camouflage. The Sinner must choose weaklings who can’t protect themselves, dumbasses who refuse to be safe, or trick a strong opponent into letting down their defenses. However, there’s a catch twenty-two with Sin Sorcery. An opponent properly versed in Sin Sense will be able to detect a mental attack as it's happening, and if they’re skilled with Sin Shield, they can form a barrier around their head that will block out foreign Sin trying to influence them.”

“That’s crazy. I didn’t realize there was even such a thing as mental attacks. So, what else can someone do to you if you don’t know how to protect yourself?”

“Hypnotize, brainwash, remove or replace memories. Make someone your slave, kill their loved ones, force them to commit suicide,” Old Louie saw the horror dawning on Jonas’ expression and realized his words hit the mark. “You think that’s bad? Those are just the ones that influence the mind without hurting it. Then you’ve got people who can attack from a distance and cause headaches, concussions, and brain tremors. I knew an assassin who could make brains melt from a distance and a woman who would force men to fall in love with her, and after she used her technique, they’d turn brain-dead and lose all independent thought. She changed them into love zombies and used them like human shields against her enemies—each with an Original Sin and abilities she could control. How? By mastering the art of lust, seduction, and mental Sin Sorcery.”

“You can do that with Sin?” Jonas felt a flicker of fear at the thought of losing his mind and becoming a slave. No amount of healing would protect him from a fate as cruel as that. “That’s terrifying.”

“You think that’s scary? Sinners use their power to kill, maim, control, and torture their enemies. When you reach my level and beyond, the people you meet will have abilities you can only imagine in your nightmares,” Old Louie pulled a chocolate bar from the pocket of his robe and began tearing it open. Jonas went quiet as he contemplated what his old master said.

“I need to be able to protect myself from the best Sinners. I never want to be mind controlled or slain by an invisible attack. I didn’t realize how unbelievable Sin could be.”

“Unbelievable?” Old Louie said through mouthfuls of chocolate. “Try grotesque. That’s a better word. Now you can see why Sin Shield is so goddamn important. It will protect you from trickery, sneakiness, physical attacks, and abilities that target the mind. There are other ways to guard yourself against dangerous sorcery, but using a Sin Shield is the most effective.”

“I understand now,” Jonas hadn’t appreciated Old Louie’s knowledge and teachings until learning how dangerous Sin could be. Perhaps, he needed to start trusting his master and listening better. “Let me ask you something.”

“Go ahead,” Old Louie stopped paying attention only to grab a bottle of wine, chug it back, and switch the TV from porn to Outlands’ news.

“How strong are you?” Jonas assumed Old Louie was tough because he’d survived the Sin Assessment and probably attempted the Hell Challenge. However, he had no idea of his teacher’s level.

“Does it matter?” Old Louie waved off the question and stared blankly at the television.

“It does. How strong are you? Could you beat the Black Butcher? Could you defeat the Overworld’s Prince of Hell?”

“Back in my prime, the Black Butcher wouldn’t dream of attacking me. However, I’m not nearly as strong as I used to be,” Old Louie smirked, but Jonas didn’t like him avoiding the question.

“Would you rank yourself among the Overworld's top one hundred Sinners?”

“No. Not anymore. It’s been too long since I’ve had a real duel, and my powers have declined because of old history—I won’t get into it, so don’t ask. Do you seriously want to know how strong I am?” Old Louie gave him a sidelong glance, and Jonas nodded. “Top three hundred in the world.”

“That’s still amazing. There are billions of people in Hell and probably a few hundred thousand Sinners if you include the Inlands. You being in the top three hundred strongest is an achievement. Where would you rank your friend Braun?”

“That crazy bastard? I'd say the top two hundred in a duel between Sinners. However, if we’re talking just pure martial arts? I’d easily put him in the top one hundred. He’s that good. Master Braun created a martial arts school from scratch, and it's one of the best I’ve ever seen. Even learning just the basics can turn you into a brand-new man. It’ll turn a pup into a dog and a hill into a mountain. His martial arts school is unrivaled in some aspects and so difficult to join that talent and money rarely matter when he chooses his students.”

“Damn. If money and talent don’t matter, how does Master Braun choose his students?”

“He appreciates talent just like all teachers. However, Braun prefers people with incredible mental strength, toughness, and grit. Pussies can’t learn his martial arts. It’s impossible. Hell, I’m not suited for his fighting style, either.”

“You think I am?” Jonas looked unconvinced. “How am I suited for it while you’re not?”

“You’re way more tenacious than I am. I’ll give up on things, lose interest quickly, and don’t care about anything other than being lazy and enjoying my hermit lifestyle. You’ve got that psychotic determination a person needs to learn Blitzkrieg Berggott.”

“Blitzkrieg—what?” Jonas looked confused.

“Blitzkrieg Berggott, otherwise known as Blitzberg. It’s a martial arts style invented by Master Braun Von Claude, a Hellite of both German and French descent. Hopefully, your future martial arts style with the matching teacher,” Old Louie examined his disciple with interest. “I went over a few different martial art schools I thought you’d find success with, and out of all of them, I think the most suited to help you pass the Sin Assessment will be Blitzberg.”

“It sounds interesting,” Jonas shrugged but didn’t seem too excited. “I don’t see how learning kung fu will help me survive against superpowered Hellites.”

“You fucking idiot,” Old Louie cackled and stared at Jonas like he was the biggest moron in all the Outlands. “If you think I’m doing this to teach you how to kick and punch, you’re dumber than I thought. Never mind, you don’t see the big picture. Once you’ve shown you're capable of Sin Sense and Sin Shield, I’ll bring you to visit Braun, and you’ll see the importance of learning a martial arts style.

“Alright, alright. You don’t have to be mean,” Jonas yawned and rose off the couch. “I’m going to shower and sleep. Tomorrow we’ll work on those two abilities.”

“Goodnight.”

The events of the next day came quickly. It wasn’t long after he awoke that he and Old Louie were stopping at stores and getting his master some new clothing. Very surprisingly, Louie paid for his clothes, and this shocked Jonas because his master never paid for anything, and he assumed Louie was broke.

At noon, the two were grabbing lunch in a restaurant, and both had their Sin Scars hidden via Sin Suppression. They could’ve been a father-son pair for all the Commoners in the shop knew. Jonas was shocked at this master’s appearance, which had taken drastic changes in the last day. Not only was Louie groomed and clean, but he was wearing a navy sports suit that was handsome and refined for someone whose clothing was usually decades old and ridden with holes and stains.

“So, what's the game plan for today?” Jonas polished off his ice cream sundae while Old Louie sipped a whiskey. “You said we’d learn the new abilities.”

“We are,” Old Louie nodded. “Today, we'll play a game. If you win, I’ll help you brainstorm ways to raise a lot of stones for the tournament.”

“Seriously?” Jonas looked skeptical. “That sounds like a scam.”

“Not from me, it isn’t. We don’t have time to fuck around, and I already agreed to let you get your ass whooped in the Hardcore Hatchet Tournament. I messaged my contact, and they told me it costs one hundred and fifty thousand stones to join. That’s the most it's ever cost. The good news is if you win a few battles, you get your money back. Hatchet LLC uses the entrance fee to dissuade posers and shitty Sinners from joining.”

“That’s a lot of Sin Stones,” Jonas looked discouraged. “How can I come up with that in a few weeks?”

“With my secret money-making tips, that’s how,” Old Louie grinned. “However, you have to pass my game first.”

“Okay. I’ll play. What’s the game?”

“You close your eyes and try to block my attacks using Sin Sense. There’s a training spot for Sinners not far from here.”

“You’re going to blindfold me?” Jonas pursed his lips and looked unconvinced. “I thought Sin Sense was about enhancing your five senses with Sin?”

“Listen here. Sin Sense is about enhancing your senses as much as Sin Suppression is about pretending to be a Commoner. In other words, they’re related but not the end product.”

“Okay, that analogy works for me,” Jonas once thought Sin Suppression was as simple as forsaking his Sin Scars and acting like a Commoner. However, it took him time to realize it was much more about returning to his roots as a regular person and embracing the feelings of fear and weakness associated with non-Sinners living dangerous lives in Hell. Jonas readily accepted that Sin Sense wasn’t so simple either.

“Good,” Old Louie waved over at their server. “Pay the bill. We’re heading to our next destination.”

Tower of Hell: Sineville of the Seas, Book 2, Chapter 136

*** If you haven't heard, I'm rereleasing Tower of Hell on Royal Road and Scribblehub. I want to try and give it a fresh start, and I've been editing and rewriting chapters while making the story fresh and containing new information. My Patreons will still get the latest release each week of Book Two, but I may take a short hiatus to edit the earlier chapters. Once the rerelease occurs, I'll change my weekly format from one long chapter to multiple short chapters. I hope I have enough time for two-three chapters each week that are 2k words or more. With that said, please enjoy! ***

There was no point in overthinking the situation, so Jonas continued down the street, waiting for inspiration. Ten minutes later, he stopped at a bar and began drinking, smoking, and watching a sporting event on the television. A fight between two professional mixed martial artists had just entered the third round, and the commentators were discussing the match.

“Regarding OFC heavy-weight champion Gregory House, his opponents have only taken him to the final round three times in his long career. On those three occasions, the champ lost the fight. Morris, did you think Jai Khatri would do this well?”

“We knew that Indian Jones had the physicality to go blow-to-blow with Brick House, but I’m surprised at the sheer difference in speed. Simply put, Jai used his quickness to his advantage, and you can see the results in the hit numbers from the previous two rounds. Mr. Khatri with an astounding three-to-one attack ratio when compared to Greg.”

“Who cares how often you get hit when they don’t do any real damage? Gregory House didn’t earn a nickname after bricks for no reason. That man is indestructible, and once Jai wears out in the third round, Greg will finish him off,” the two commentators continued their discussion while Jonas shook his head.

“You think Jai will win?” A bartender filled Jonas’ drink. “What makes you say that?”

“He’s had the advantage the whole fight. Greg can’t catch him, doesn’t have the same stamina, and he’s starting to get frustrated. On the other hand, Jai’s been waiting for his opponent to let down his guard, then he can go for the submission.”

“Not a knock-out?” The bartender looked surprised. “In the past, Jai has always gone for the KO.”

“Not this time,” said Jonas, and even the gentleman sitting next to him turned his head to hear the explanation. “Jai won’t have enough power to put the champ to sleep with a punch, but he’ll probably go for a choke-hold.”

“How do you figure?” The man beside Jonas flicked his cigarette and looked confused. He wore scrubs and looked the part of a typical Commoner grabbing a beer after work.

“Jai has a shorter wingspan which will help him get a tight grip around the neck. First, shorter arms have less distance to travel. Second, he knows Greg is out of breath, and a chokehold will quickly incapacitate him. Third, other submission tactics will be less viable because of their size differences,” Jonas lit a new cigarette and perused the bar’s menu. “Let me try this drink, the Bloody Dragon. Extra spicy.”

“Yes, Sir,” the bartender began preparing Jonas’ drink, and the man seated by Jonas looked like he had something to say.

“Greg House will win by knock-out. I’ll put a beer on it,” he tapped the counter and eyed Jonas.

“One beer. I’ve got Jai Khatri winning by submission,” they continued to listen to the commentating, and by the time the bartender put Jonas’ massive Bloody Dragon drink on the counter, the fight began once more.

The three watched Khatri and House begin round three. The third round looked identical to the first and second: Greg threw punches while looking for a knock-out, but his opponent dodged them, and suddenly, Jai ducked underneath a sluggish right hook, spun behind his opponent, and wrapped his bicep around Greg’s neck.

For a moment, the Champ desperately struggled to shake off Indian Jones, who was trying to finish the chokehold.

“Shit, shit,” the man beside Jonas was cringing and slapping the counter. “Throw him off!” Greg was gassed, out of stamina, and after a last desperate struggle, he fell over and allowed Jai to finish the chokehold. The commentators went wild, and the referee ended the match when Greg was unresponsive.

“Jai Khatri takes down the Champ! Indian Jones extends his record to twenty wins and two losses!”

“Great call, kid,” said the bartender, while the man who proposed the bet sighed and nodded toward Jonas.

“Get him his beer. How the Hell did you guess that?” The bartender chuckled and put a Killer Lite down on the counter.

“Thanks, partner. I know a little about fighting bigger opponents. If Jai’s as good as everyone says he is, he’d use a similar strategy to me.”

“Oh, you’re a fighter?” The bartender examined Jonas and noticed he was deceptively muscular for someone his age and size.

“Something like that,” said Jonas smiling into his drink but didn’t elaborate. He chatted with the bartender and continued watching television while smoking, drinking, and pretending to be a Commoner on his day off. Occasionally, he’d ask questions about what he saw on TV, but more often, he’d stay quiet and listen to the surrounding sounds. Commoners mostly spoke about their jobs and ongoing events.

“Stay away from Arisen Street,” Jonas heard a woman talking on the phone at a table behind him. “Didn’t you hear about the new gang? They’ve been jumping, robbing, and harassing anyone dumb enough to walk that way. Babe, just take a different way home.”

‘Gang activity, huh?’ Jonas tapped on the bar counter. “Hey, I’m heading out. What do I owe?” He paid his tab, thanked the bartender, and said goodbye to the man beside him.

Jonas returned to the streets while holding his hell phone because he needed to use the maps application to find Arisen street. The red sky was starting to darken and turn murky like dirty blood, and Jonas knew it was almost time for the Commoners to pack up and head inside. Anyone wandering the streets after dark was either dangerous or stupid.

After an hour of walking, the streets had cleared, and a chilling breeze brushed across Jonas’ face as the sky turned black and stars and moon began to glow. Arisen street was a long back road with ghetto duplex houses, a few run-down shops, and inconspicuous, unlabeled buildings with shadowy figures huddled in front of them.

“Hi!” Jonas approached a group of five men drinking in front of a house. “I’m a little lost right now, and I was wondering if you could point me to the nearest convenience store?” He used his politest, weakest voice and wore a subservient smile.

“Oh, shit,” said a gruff voice, and a large man wearing red stepped out from the group, and the moonlight illuminated his terrifying face. “You’re way off the beaten path. You’ve got to turn back and make a right at the lights,” his dangerous eyes roamed downward and examined the backs of Jonas’ hands, but he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary because of the darkness obscuring them. It was an amateur mistake not to recognize even the faintest Sin Scars.

“Thanks, man,” Jonas put his hands in his pockets and grabbed his pack of smokes. “Mind if I hang out and have a smoke with you?” The group was shocked at how dumb he was for wandering around at night, approaching a random group of dangerous strangers, and asking to hang out with them. It was almost too easy not to try and take advantage of him.

“Uh, sure. Here,” the leader pulled a lighter from his pocket and held it out. Jonas put a cigarette in his mouth, leaned forward, and the man lit the tip. He glanced at his friend, winked, and stepped back.

Suddenly, a fist swung from the darkness and cold-clocked Jonas across the jaw. His cigarette flew from his mouth, and he stumbled over the curb and onto the street.

“Get him!” One of the men shouted, and they swarmed like hyenas onto prey. It happened so quickly. All the men were swearing while kicking, punching, pulling, and gang-beating Jonas. One of the men continued stomping Jonas’ head and caused the teen to see stars and feel tremendous pain, all while his fellows attacked every inch of their victim they could get their hands or feet on.

Jonas knew it was one of the dumbest, hardest things he’d ever done. While they curb-stomped him until blood leaked from every orifice, the young Crusader fought his Pride with everything he had—something he’d learned not to do. His Sin screamed for him to fight back, it begged to let loose and rampage against the regular Commoner gangsters, and it protested at such a shameful act. By some miracle, Jonas reigned in his Pride and forced it to sit through the humiliation.

“Check his pockets,” they stopped beating him only for one of the men to begin rummaging, but he only found a few spare Dream Dollars—which he kept; he didn’t even consider stealing the hell phone. One grabbed his pack of smokes, and after that, they gave a few more kicks for good measure.

“Nice shoes, bitch,” another pulled off Jonas’ sneakers. “Now get him the fuck off our street,” the gangster barked orders at his comrades, and two grabbed Jonas by the foot and began dragging his bleeding body across the concrete road and down onto the dark corner.

Jonas squinted at the beautiful night sky for a few long minutes while embracing the pain he was experiencing. They might have been Commoner gangsters, but against his defenseless body with no Sin in his system, they still managed to do a great deal of damage externally and internally. He was gushing blood from his split skull, nose, and multiple spots on his ligaments, and he could tell they’d fractured numerous ribs.

Jonas didn’t feel like a talented Sinner, and he didn’t feel like he had super fast regenerative abilities, acid blood, or the martial prowess to go head-to-head with Sinner psychopaths. Instead, he felt like a dumbass teenager who’d turned down the wrong neighborhood, got jumped by bored criminals, robbed, and tossed away like trash. His Pride was suspiciously quiet, like a brooding caged lion, and Jonas gingerly lifted his arm to peek at his hand. There were no Sin Scars; he’d completed Sin Suppression for the first time.

Jonas closed his eyes, smiled, and sighed. He focused on the feelings he was experiencing physically and mentally—weakness, defenselessness, pain, and unable to feel or use Sin.

Jonas wanted badly to channel his Pride and begin the healing process but knew that he’d only master Sin Suppression if he remembered what it was like to perform it. So, instead of taking the easy way, he just laid there on the sidewalk, bleeding out and trying to absorb the experience.

Then, he was reminded of his youth when Frank, one of his adoptive fathers, would beat him, and he couldn’t fight back at all, and any thought of self-defense would’ve made the beating worse. The feeling he was experiencing in the present day must’ve been how his younger self felt to deal with such a terrible situation.

The seconds ticked by, and the blood dripped off his body and onto the cement sidewalk. He was going to give in and channel his Pride but had a sudden inspiration. Why not take it one step further?

It was a mark of his mental toughness and the strength of his body's core that Jonas could pull himself to his feet without collapsing. His next plan was even more humiliating than the first. Slowly, he limped toward the main road, barefooted and bleeding. Then, he began the long walk home.

Few people walked the sidewalks that late, so Jonas dealt with less gawking than he might’ve during the day. However, he knew it was doubtful anyone would stop to help him and ask if he was okay. Hell’s Commoners would’ve turned around and stayed away from any potential danger that Jonas was walking from, while the thugs would’ve left him alone because he’d probably already been robbed and was worthless. The worst part wasn’t the humiliation but the pain of walking almost two hours back to Grandview hotel with no special healing powers or shoes.

However, that night Jonas wasn’t a Sinner; he was just a normal Commoner who failed to assimilate, received punishment, and was on his way home. Perhaps this occurrence was something that he eventually would’ve experienced had he not been kidnapped and drugged by the three human traffickers: Michael, Amber, and Patrick. Then again, being tricked, transported to an auction house, and thrown in a cage was also humiliating, and Jonas wasn’t a Sinner then, nor when Rick beat him up and pissed on him, which was even worse.

The long walk home quickened as Jonas got lost in his memories before becoming a Sinner, and he unintentionally recalled many humiliating moments his Pride had overlooked. Why did his Sin insist on influencing his memories to make him less inclined to remember humiliating moments before he acquired his Sin Scars? Jonas knew that Sin could take a life of its own, let alone influence the Sinner. He felt a connection between his difficulty using Sin Suppression and his Cardinal Sin’s response to humiliation.

Jonas had an epiphany: to be a Commoner was to suffer. It was a state of vulnerability that Sinners hid from by constantly chasing, obsessing, and fueling themselves with Sin. His Pride hated suppression almost as much as it hated being humiliated.

To completely hide his Cardinal Sin, Jonas knew he had to accept the feelings associated with Commoners and the issues they faced. It was a simple truth that made his heart skip a beat, making him want to test his findings.

Like a dead engine coming to life, his Sin Scars glowed as he channeled his abilities. The feeling of Sin entering his veins, muscle fibers, and brain was intoxicating as power flooded him. There was a feeling that his potential was unlimited and he could do anything as long as he kept channeling the Sin. Instantly, he felt relief from the pain as his wounds began to close, and the fractures tried to heal. He stepped forward with less limp, and his entire body rejuvenated within a few minutes. Deep cuts, bruises, scrapes, fractures, and muscle tears had healed entirely, leaving Jonas dirty and covered in dried blood but whole and painless.

Jonas took a deep breath, and because the feeling of not using Sin was so fresh in his mind, it was much easier to concentrate on bringing himself to that state again. He tried convincing his Pride that being suppressed wasn’t a big deal. It was okay to be vulnerable, and Hell’s Commoners were used to experiencing that feeling. Sin Suppression wasn’t a weakness: it brought Jonas back to his roots and mentally strengthened him. It allowed him to take time away from Sin and be himself.

The version of Jonas, who people hurt and humiliated, was the same one that killed a Maldread and escaped from Little Wrath City. The version of himself, who predators harmed as a child, was the same who slaughtered Dark Fly Auction and freed all their slaves. Suppressing his power didn’t make him weak: it made him human. The secret to Sin Suppression was accepting his humanity and the vulnerability of being a Commoner in Hell.

Jonas smiled and recalled the humiliating moments he’d been through, including the most recent beatdown, and he focused on the fact that he didn’t need to fuel his body with Sin to be powered constantly. Very slowly, his powers receded, and his Sin Scars faded until nothing was left. Jonas’ hands looked ordinary, and his body felt empty because the Sin had gone, but his mind was strong as ever because he felt more in tune with his true self and knew he didn’t need his Sin at that moment. It was okay to put it away until necessary.

Just before midnight, Jonas was approaching Grandview hotel. It looked amazing at night, and the giant snow globe-shaped skyscraper gently glowed like a dimmed fluorescent light. He entered the front door but didn’t see Julian, Tina, or her other coworker. Instead, new staff members replaced the trio. However, they already knew who Jonas was.

“Mr. Ariel, welcome back,” the security guard looked concerned because of the blood on his skin, clothing, and lack of shoes. “Were you attacked?”

“I’m fine. I was training,” Jonas smiled at the clerk. “I’m just going to head up. Is that okay?” She smiled and nodded.

“Anything you need, just call the front desk, and I’ll try to accommodate you.”

Jonas entered the elevator, pressed the button to his floor, and eventually marched to his room. He used his phone to unlock the door and saw a sight that shocked him. Old Louie lounged on the couch while eating pudding, watching porn, and wearing a bathrobe. The old master had finally washed, and Jonas was surprised to see the results. Since they’d met, Louie Darnell had never looked cleaner, more handsome, and more approachable. He’d brushed back his long grayish-blonde hair, groomed his beard and eyebrows, and cleaned his teeth.

“Look at that,” he cackled, pointing a spoon at his bloody disciple. “I thought I’d be home alone tonight. My student has some talent, after all. One day and two nights to learn Sin Suppression is impressive. Good work.”

“Thanks. What made you wash up?” Jonas looked at the room service cart and saw it was full of empty plates. Since he’d left, Old Louie had been busy.

“You’ve noticed my handsome looks,” Old Louie winked. “My Sinner's name is Hermit for a reason. I’m prone to hibernating among Commoners, apart from Sinner society. Sometimes I get a little carried away with the lousy hygiene associated with a hermit lifestyle. However, everything’s different now I’ve got a disciple, and I’m back among the Sinners. I can’t have people judging you because your old master was too stinky.”

“That’s surprisingly generous of you,” Jonas squinted and gave his smiling master a skeptical glare. “Too generous. What’s going on?”

“Don’t be such a worry wart. I’m doing this for you, believe it or not. We’ve got a big day tomorrow. I need new clothes, and you start your next lesson. Once you’ve accomplished Sin Sense and Sin Shield, I’ll bring you to meet your new teacher.”

“You’re serious?” Jonas was a bit annoyed. “How am I supposed to trust some random person I never met? You’re my teacher because I chose you.”

“I’m flattered, honestly,” Old Louie looked bashful. “However, I’ve already told you I’m not an expert martial artist. My specialty is healing, but I’m also quite adept at teleportation, seals, and other Sin Sorcery tricks.”

“You can teleport?” Jonas’ jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”

“It’s not omnipotent. Do you remember my ability, Patient Check Up? Not only can I feel when my last patient is in danger, but I can also teleport to their location as long as the range is within a few hundred feet. I used it to heal you after Wolf cracked your melon. It let me get into the infirmary without alerting the gang.”

“That’s incredibly useful. How does something like that work? It’s such a specific ability with rules that govern it,” Jonas didn’t understand advanced Sin Sorcery, but he knew it was incredible.

“One day, I’ll show you,” Old Louie waved off his question. “You know my style, so why even ask? I’m going to teach you the basics first. The advanced stuff comes later.”

“So, who’s this new teacher?” Jonas wasn’t surprised by Old Louie’s refusal to explain, so he moved on to his next question.

“He’s an old friend of mine that owes me a favor. I texted and asked if he’d be willing to teach you martial arts at his school. While he hasn’t agreed to teach you, he agreed to test you and see what you can do. I’ll warn you now that Braun’s a troublesome man. He’s eccentric, has incredibly high standards for his students, and his methods are brutal. Physically it’ll be more challenging than anything you experienced at the Hurts gang. However, if you get accepted and can survive his training, I guarantee you’ll be strong enough to survive and try again someday if you don't pass the Sin Assessment.”

“Shit,” Jonas was impressed. For Old Louie to call someone eccentric, they must’ve been strange. “I’d ask more questions, but I know you won’t answer them.”

“It’s good you don’t waste my time. Anyway, tell me about your little day trip. My ability felt you getting your ass kicked a few hours ago, but I could tell you weren’t in any immediate danger.”

“The secret to Sin Suppression wasn’t easy to find. Pretending to be a Commoner wasn’t enough to make my scars disappear. I’d already tried a salon, multiple restaurants, and various stores, but none of that hid my powers.”

“Of course not. Walking around and shopping might fade the scars, but it wouldn’t do anything to make them disappear. What next?”

“Well, I stopped at a strip club called Club Dream,” Old Louie’s jaw dropped, and he paused his porn to stare at Jonas.

“Club Dream? You went?” His voice raised and contained accusatory tones. “Without your poor old master? You unfilial little bastard!”

“Hang on, don’t get your panties in a twist. I found some good news.”

“You’re going to take me to Club Dream tomorrow?”

“No,” said Jonas. He hated the idea of his nasty Old Master embarrassing him by throwing money at Athena or Jessica and acting like a crude moron. “I learned about a tournament called the Hardcore Hatchet Tournament.”

“Huh?” Old Louie looked unconcerned. “What the fuck do I care about that bozo-ass tournament? I want to see strippers!”

“I suspect they’ve got a golden ticket as a prize for winning. It’s four weeks from now, and joining will cost over a hundred thousand Sin Stones,” Old Louie’s tantrum paused long enough for him to consider the possibility.

“That’s no good, unfortunately,” Louie shook his head.

“What do you mean?” Jonas asked but already knew the answer. He just didn’t want to hear it.

“If a golden ticket is on the line, the event will attract Sinners beyond your current capabilities, even with four weeks of training. Honestly, it’s hopeless. You wouldn’t pass the first round,” Jonas felt his Pride roar in protest, and his Sin Scars began to glow with vigor.

“You don’t think I’d pass the first round? Louie, you’re on drugs. I went undefeated in Little Wrath City. Fighting in a cage is my thing.”

“Okay, Comeback Kid. Little Wrath City is full of talentless punks and posers. Garth McArthur was undefeated, and I don’t think he’d win a match against anyone entering the Hardcore Hatchet tourney,” to which Jonas furrowed his brow.

“Are you being serious, or are you just dissuading me from entering the tournament?”

“Little idiot. I’m your master. It’s my job to ensure I’m preparing you for the Sin Assessment, including helping you find a ticket. If the tournament entry were free, I’d tell you to give it your best shot. The problem is I know you’ll lose and dump a few hundred thousand Sin Stones down the drain. We don’t have the time to raise that kind of money and waste it. The plan stays the same. I’ll train you in the basics, and then you’ll learn martial arts from my friend, Braun. Then I’ll teach some advanced shit and find you a ticket.”

“What if I could raise the money quickly?” Jonas wasn’t giving up without a fight. “It won’t impede my training, and everything will still go as planned. At least this way, I’ll go up against strong True Sinners and possibly win a ticket.”

“There’s no chance in hell you’ll win the tourney. The people who enter will be the best of the best in the Outlands, and you’re not one of them. There’s no miracle way to get strong overnight and no medicine or secret technique to make you an expert. Since we can’t make you an expert in four weeks, it's useless to join. I don’t think you understand that.”

“I don’t think you understand that I want to try. If I fail, so be it, but at least I’ll have given it my best shot. What must I do to convince you to let me do this?” Jonas had undeniable conviction in his eye, and Old Louie felt like slapping him across the face for being so stubborn.

“Goddammit. My fucking dumbass disciple never listens to me. Fine. Do you want me to let you join the tournament? Raise a hundred and fifty thousand Sin Stones before the tourney, get accepted by Braun, and train your Sin Shield until it's strong enough to survive my attack.”

Tower of Hell: Sineville of the Seas, Book 2, Chapter 135

Jonas had spent most of his life poor, underfed, and living in ghettos. That wasn’t including his stay at the Hurts gang, either. To live at places like the Glatorius mansion or a Grandview penthouse suite was a blessing he felt he could get used to having. A butler brought them seafood pasta, fruit platters, and sweets. Jonas and Old Louie could both get behind great food at the low cost of free.

“Eat up, chump,” Old Louie slurped sauce out of an oyster shell and then chugged the whiskey Jonas had poured him. “I’m serious about you not returning until those Sin Scars are gone. I can’t baby you when it comes to this stuff.”

“I heard you the first time,” Jonas helped himself to a big piece of lobster tail dripping butter all over his pasta. “After Sin Suppression, we’ll learn Sin Sense and Sin Shield, right?”

“One thing at a time, but yes. Sin Suppression will be the most important, especially if a psycho like Black Butcher comes after you. We also need to work on your martial arts, but I’m unsure how well I can help you.”

“Huh?” Jonas’ mouth fell agape. “What do you mean you can’t help me with my martial arts? You’re a True Sinner.”

“Well, dopey. Since you’ve never asked, I’ll tell you that I’m a fucking healer and not a combat expert. That’s not to say that I can’t hold my own in a fight, but when it comes to technique and physical training, I’m not best suited to teach you.”

“My martial arts is fine,” Jonas shook his head. “So is my physique. Let’s just focus on Sin stuff,” but Old Louie nearly sprayed him with chunks of food as he protested.

“What martial arts? You’ve never learned proper martial arts. Bare-knuckle brawling could hardly be called a refined martial art. Listen, you little shit. To survive the Sin Assessment, you need at least one martial arts style to learn the foundations of hand-to-hand combat and some grueling exercises much more rewarding than what you’d find in a gym. Non-negotiable!” Old Louie grinned, and Jonas shook his head.

“Whatever. If you can’t teach me that, then who will? Another old friend that owes you a favor?”

“Yes. Smart ass,” Louie waved off the attitude and used his bare hands to crack open some crab legs, and he slurped the meat out.

“Who?”

“Nunya damn business. That’s who. Worry about the missions I give you, and then I’ll tell you my plans,” Jonas shook his head, chugged back his drink, and put aside his dirty plate.

“See you soon,” he was looking forward to some peace without Old Louie, and the prospect of wandering around Liberty City excited him. Twenty minutes later, Jonas had freshened up, changed into prison scrubs, and made his way down the elevator and into the lobby.  He considered wearing fancier clothing, but the objective was to blend in, and most Commoners wore scrubs because they were inexpensive and represented Hell’s caste society. Jonas had gotten so used to wearing regular clothing that he almost forgot what it felt like to walk in public while looking like a prisoner.

“Jonas Ariel,” Julian spotted the handsome youngster and sprang to attention. “Is everything okay?” Tina and her coworker also noticed him, and their expressions tightened.

“We’ll try our best to accommodate any of your requests.”

“No worries,” Jonas waved his hand and smiled.  “I’m just going for a walk. I thought I’d dress down to look a bit inconspicuous.”

“Did you want security to accompany you?”

“That wouldn’t be very inconspicuous. Would it?” Jonas chuckled. “I’ll be fine. I can handle myself. I do have a question.”

“What’s up?” Julian tilted his head.

“Where’s the nearest salon? I need a haircut,” Jonas tugged on the end of his golden hair that had grown past his shoulders. Tina’s expression lit up.

“If you need a good salon, I’ll recommend you stop by Chestnut and Co,” the desk clerk’s words sped up, and it seemed she’d forgotten to be weary of Jonas. “Everyone will tell you that Hell Mane is the best place to go, but, like, sure, it’s cheap. However, I’d rather pay double the price at Chestnuts and get a cut done by an actual stylist than some barber-wannabe ex-biker who’ll probably try to rob you after,” her coworker nodded vehemently.

“Hey, Hell Mane’s isn’t that bad,” Julian looked slightly offended, but Tina gave him a look, and he went quiet.

“Chestnut sounds like a winner,” Jonas imputed the business into his hell phone and saw it was only a twenty-minute walk. “Thanks for the advice. I’ll be back later,” he turned on the spot, put his hands in his pockets, and headed out under the afternoon sun.

There was a bit of traffic cruising along the main road in front of Grandview, but Jonas wouldn’t necessarily say it was busy. Surprisingly, the sidewalks had a lot of people bustling around: all of them wore prison scrubs with neutral colors, nothing too sparkling or showy. Jonas kept his head down and quietly walked the path toward his destination, and he was sure not to make eye contact with anyone, as well as keeping his Sin Scars hidden in his pockets.

He focused on enjoying the freedom away from Old Louie and imagined himself a regular teenage boy on his way to get a haircut. He didn’t feel different or unique compared to the occasional Commoner walking by, and instead, he’d eye them vigilantly and take the long way around strangers. Jonas felt his Pride protest at pretending to be weak but knew the importance of mastering Sin Suppression rather than flexing on the common folk.

He enjoyed his stroll down the busy street and was undisturbed even when he arrived outside the doors of a windowless building shaped like a winter cottage. It had a pair of shiny golden scissors above the front door and the name Chestnut & Co in fancy golden letters. He pushed open the door, and the smell of ginger greeted his nose as he entered a clean and expensive-looking salon. Three female stylists cut the hair of three women seated in comfy chairs, and two more were sitting in the waiting room. When Jonas entered, all their eyes darted over to see who the strange man was that entered. However, they widened in surprise when they saw how young, fit, and handsome he was.

“Good afternoon,” one of the ladies stopped cutting and came to the front desk.

“Hello,” Jonas tried to smile and appear normal. “Haircut for Jonas.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No, mam,” Jonas shook his head.

“No problem at all. I’ll put your name down and refer you to our price chart. It’s going to be about a twenty-minute wait.”

“No problem,” Jonas nodded and watched the hair stylist return to her customer. His eyes went over to the pricing chair and bulged when he saw that a man’s cut cost sixty Sin Stones.

Jonas smiled at the two women waiting and sat a few chairs away. He could feel them peeking at him, but he played on his phone and pretended not to see.

“Hi,” one was Jonas’ age and had curly brown hair. “You have beautiful hair.”

“Thank you,” he shook his head. “It’s getting unruly. I’ve never had my hair this long before. I don’t like going out too much, so I don’t get it cut as often as I should.”

“Relatable,” she blushed. “It’s too dangerous to be worried about a haircut. I pretty much go from home to work and back again.”

“It’s the same for me. I work at a golf course, and thankfully, it has good security.”

“Oh, are you like a caddy? I work at a grocery store.”

“No,” Jonas shook his head. He didn’t feel guilty about lying. Instead, he let his fake backstory roll off his tongue, and it felt so natural that he would have believed it too. “I serve booze and occasionally drive the carts when my patron is too drunk.”

“The tips must be nice?” The woman leaned a bit closer.

“Pretty decent. It pays for my apartment, groceries, and a bit extra to put away each week. I want to save up for a quality security system.”

“Good for you. I’m Mary,” she waved her hand, and Jonas waved back. Unintentionally, he didn’t even think about his Sin Scars, which had faded to the point that nobody noticed: albeit they hadn’t completely vanished.

“Jonas. It’s nice to talk with someone who isn’t mean-mugging or trying to rob you. Do you like Liberty City?”

“I do. It’s dangerous at night, but which city is not? However, I like the job opportunities much better.”

“Mary, I can take you now,” a hair stylist interrupted them, and Mary looked disappointed. “Talk to you after. Good luck.”

“You too,” Jonas leaned back into his chair and glanced at the other woman seated nearby. However, he didn’t have time to start a conversation with her because a stylist called her name, and she walked away to get her haircut.

“Jonas,” a pretty stylist with long brown hair and heavy makeup called him about five minutes later. “What can I do for you today?”

“Cut it short,” he examined his face in the mirror as she wrapped the barber cloth around him. “I’ll trust your judgment.”

“No problem. You’ve got a great jaw hidden by your bangs. I’ll give you a nice cut,” and after thirty minutes of scissor cutting, clipping, shampooing, brushing, blow drying, and styling, Jonas’ long golden locks were lying on the floor.

“Oh, my,” Mary peeked over to see the progress. “You look amazing,” the hair on the side and back of his head was short, crisp, and faded into a few inches of blonde hair styled on the top of his head. “Thanks,” with short hair, Jonas felt more like his previous self than ever. His face was older, his eyes contained experience, and his muscles were abundant, but there were obvious signs of the young, pre-Hell Jonas that the long hair had hidden.

The stylist, Brenda, led him to the front desk and processed him through the payment machine. With tip, the cut cost over a hundred Sin Stones, but the experience of seeing his old self was worth every stone.

“Thanks for your business,” she handed him a card. “Feel free to call and set an appointment any time you want,” Jonas accepted the card and noticed his Sin Scars were barely visible to the naked eye but still not entirely gone.

“Wait, Jonas,” Mary had just finished her cut as Jonas was ready to leave. “Could I have your number?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m with someone right now,” Jonas made a disappointed expression.

“No worries,” her face went beet red, and her voice rose a few octaves. “I should’ve figured. Guys like you don’t stay on the market for long. Take care,” she turned around to pay for her haircut, but it didn’t stop Jonas from seeing her eyes sparkle from emotion.

“Your hair looks pretty. I’m honestly missing out.”

“Thank you,” she nodded but didn’t turn to face him.

“See ya,” he turned and left the salon. When the door closed behind him, he sighed and shook his head. Perhaps, the old him would’ve accepted a date, but the new version of him hated the idea of leading a girl around, knowing he’d already lied to her and would be leaving soon.

Jonas was much stronger emotionally than he used to be and quickly sorted his feelings to shake off the disappointed look from Mary that burned itself into his mind’s eye. His Sin Scars were still visible, and he could feel his connection to his Pride, just ever so slightly. He needed to continue his journey as a normal Commoner.

His next stop was an ice cream parlor, where he bought himself a large vanilla soft-serve cone and had to turn down both girls who’d been serving at the counter. The first had taken her time to ask, building Jonas up with some small talk, but as soon as he declined, her coworker immediately tried right after. Jonas gave a self-deprecating smile as he left the parlor holding his cold treat. However, ice cream wasn’t enough to make him normal.

Jonas continued walking down the street, stopping to interact with whatever he found interesting. He’d make small talk with people, try foods at restaurants, stop to admire landmarks, and took a selfie in front of a giant office building shaped like a turtle. Just before turning to the next street, Jonas noticed a strip club on the corner called Club Dream. He smirked when he considered that a regular teenage boy wouldn’t pass up the chance to see naked women.

A bouncer with faint, flame-shaped Sin Scars mean mugged him, collected a twenty-stone entrance fee, and warned Jonas not to touch any of the girls. He strode into the smokey club while sex-themed music greeted his eardrums. The room was dim, but Jonas could still see two half-naked women dancing on stage and swinging on poles while about a dozen men watched them and occasionally threw shiny paper on stage. Jonas watched from afar, and after the song was over, the women bent over, and their breasts jiggled as they picked up the shimmering paper and stuffed it into their panties.

“Hi, handsome,” said an attractive bartender, and a few men sitting nearby shot Jonas glances to see who’d grabbed her attention. “Do you want a drink? Or I can get you some Dream Dollars to pay the dancers.”

“Sure, why not,” Jonas exchanged one hundred Sin Stones for the fake, shimmering paper money he’d seen earlier, and he bought beers for himself and the gentlemen at the bar, who nodded and thanked him. “Make yourself a drink. On me,” he winked at the bartender, who narrowed her eyes and began making herself a martini.

“Jessica,” said the bartender. “I’m not for sale, but if you play your cards right, I might let you buy me another drink.”

“Well. You might not be a stripper, but you’re damn good at teasing,” she chuckled and clinked drinks with him.

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen,” a hostess picked up a microphone, and her gentle voice soothed and teased the room. “Miss Kenya and Little Spice are taking a break, but we’ve got your favorite dancer making her way on stage, Athena!” Jonas, the bartender, and all the men drinking turned their heads to see the newest dancer come on stage. After the smoke cleared, a beautiful woman appeared with long legs, pale skin, and an innocent smile hidden behind a sparkling masquerade. She wore silvery lingerie that barely covered her busty top and curvy ass, and her dainty figure moved gracefully.

“She’s so attractive,” Jessica licked her lips. “Lend me some of your Dream Dollars. I want a private dance from her,” Jonas laughed alongside the rest of the men. Athena started her dance quite slowly, but as the music picked up, so did her movements, and eventually, she swung around the pole with speed, skill, and rhythm. Men standing in front of the stage started throwing Dream Dollars, and in response, Athena undid her top and slowly let it drop to the floor. Jonas felt his body stir when she revealed her big perky breasts, and for a moment, he forgot why he was even at a strip club.

“Sorry, Jess,” Jonas sipped his beer and counted his Dream Dollars. “I’m saving these for her,” he made his way across the room. When he stepped in front of the stage, Athena glanced at him but only blinked a few times as she lifted herself, climbed the pole, spun a few times, and slowly reclined until she was hanging upside down. Jonas put all one hundred of his Dream Dollars on the stage and pushed them forward, and when Athena came back to her feet, she licked her pink lips and blew him a kiss. Then, she bent over and slowly took off her silvery thong, revealing her pussy and curvy ass cheeks. One guy patted Jonas on the shoulder while the rest hooted, hollered, and tossed their Dream Dollars onto the stage. Jonas returned to the bar, which surprised Athena and Jessica.

“Idiot. Have you ever been to a strip club before? You're supposed to pace yourself, not give all your money away at once. Damn, I changed my mind: I’ll dance for you. Cough up,” Jessica clicked her tongue and gave him a dirty look.

“Get another round of drinks, and I’ll take two-hundred Dream Dollars.”

“Okay, Mr. Money Bags. You better leave a good tip,” she passed him the shimmering bills, and he gave her back half.

“It's yours. Not many people have made me laugh lately,” Jonas appreciated her sharp tongue and a rowdy sense of humor.

“Great. I work at a strip club, but my best asset is my sense of humor. I don’t think my self-esteem will ever recover.”

“I think those Dream Dollars will make you feel better,” the two of them clinked glasses and watched Athena finish her dance. The music stopped after a few minutes, and the crowd went wild as everyone clapped, hollered, and threw money at her. She waved, bent over for everyone, scooped her earnings, and carried what looked like a thousand Dream Dollars off stage and out of sight.

“What a great dancer. I’m impressed,” he turned to flirt with Jessica. “It’s your time to shine. Get up there.”

“Not drunk enough, uh, what was your name?”

“Jonas.”

“Put down a thousand shiny bills, and I’ll tap dance naked,” they both laughed and continued chatting for a few minutes until the hostess came behind the bar and whispered into Jessica’s ear. Her eyes widened, and she glared at Jonas. “I hate you so much right now.”

“Why, what did I do?”

“Athena wants to see you in the backroom,” which surprised Jonas, but the hostess beckoned him, and he knew she was being serious.”

“Well, I guess I should go and hear her out. Right?” Jonas shrugged his shoulders and wore an innocent expression. “I’ll let you know what she says.”

“Fuck right off, you sexy bastard,” Jessica grumbled into her martini as she watched Jonas follow the hostess into the backroom. Part of her was jealous of him, and the other was jealous of Athena.

“Do you know what she wants?” Jonas asked the hostess, who winked at him and shook her hourglass-shaped body as she walked. They went through a back door, turned a corner, and the music started to die as they entered a long hallway.

“These are our private booths, only available through invitation. Athena’s in number four,” she pointed at the last booth at the end. “Be on your best behavior.”

“Understood,” he strode over to booth four, opened the door, and stepped inside. The room was small and occupied by two comfy chairs, an end table, and a beautiful, busty brunette wearing a mask, shimmering lingerie, and sipping a pink beverage.

“Hi,” Jonas said. “Great dance.”

“Thank you,” her voice made his skin numb. “I thought maybe I’d buy you a drink since you were so generous with your Dream Dollars,” she gestured to a large glass filled with blue-colored alcohol. “Are you up for a chat?”

“I’ve got nowhere better to be. My name’s Jonas,” he sat across from her and sipped the drink she offered.

“Just call me Athena. I don’t give away my real name, unfortunately. There are too many creeps in this world.”

“Agreed,” said Jonas. “So, I’m curious. Why stripping? Is it the money?” She tilted her head, and her dark eyes examined him from beneath her silver mask.

“No,” she put her dainty hands on the table, and two bullseye-shape Sin Scars appeared. It looked like worms wiggling beneath her skin and had a ruby-like glow of bright crimson. “There’s something incredible about having a room full of men lusting after you, teasing them, taking their money, and turning them into mindless horndogs who’d do anything to be your love slave. It fuels my Sin in a way that no other method could satisfy. I feel like a hunter using sex to lure in her prey. It turns me on like crazy.”

“Understandable,” Jonas had no idea Athena was a Sinner. Her Sin Suppression technique was so formidable that he’d assumed she was a Commoner. His horniness had turned to trepidation because as soon as she showed her Sin, he could feel the power radiating from her, and it was much more than he could produce. “I’m out working on Sin Suppression at the moment. Any advice?” Athena smiled and sipped her drink.

“The obvious way is to pretend you're a Commoner, and some people will even try living as one for weeks. The second way is to take control of your Sin. I called you here today because I noticed your Sin was Pride. I’ve never met a Crusader before and was interested to see what you’d be like.”

“And?”

“A bit boring, but that’s not a bad thing. Crusaders are known to be wild, unpredictable, and careless toward consequences. You seem level-headed and easy-going.”

“You should’ve met me when I first discovered Sin. I nearly died three or four times because I was too cocky.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Athena sighed and smiled. “Are you a local?”

“Not at all,” said Jonas. “I’m visiting.”

“The Sin Assessment must’ve attracted you. Alas, tickets are way too difficult to come by. Even if I could find one, I doubt I’d be talented enough to pass.”

“Seriously?” Jonas could tell how strong she was. “I’m late to Sinning, but I think I’ve got what it takes to survive the Sin Assessment. Right now, I’m working on some basic techniques and trying to find a ticket.”

“If you’re still working on basic techniques, I doubt you’re ready to take the test. The people onboard the Sineville of the Seas will have long since mastered techniques like Sin Sense and Sin Suppression. I’d wait until next year.”

“You sound like my master,” Jonas shook his head. “I don’t have time to wait, but I won’t tell you why. I’m going to master the basics, find a ticket, and pass that test, and I’m going to risk everything I’ve got to make sure I succeed,” Athena saw the seriousness in Jonas’ eyes and watched his Sin Scars glow splendidly. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt moved by his determination.

“I guess I could give you a little piece of gossip. Have you ever heard of Hatchet LLC?”

“Not at all,” said Jonas. “They’re some sort of company, I suppose.”

“So, they’re the leading brand in fighting equipment: arenas, gloves, accessories, workout dummies, etcetera. Every year they put together these martial arts tournaments, and they charge astronomical prices to watch and even more to join. Their headquarters is in Liberty City, so they usually draw in a few hundred Sinners each year to fight, and the largest crowd ever was over a million people.”

“Shit,” Jonas was in disbelief. “What arena could hold that many people?”

“Hatchet Stadium is incredible and the largest entertainment venue in the Outlands. Think about the most massive arena you’ve ever seen. Now, increase the size by three and stack five on each other. That’ll give you Hatchet Stadium. However, that’s not even the most incredible part. Last year, the average ticket price to attend was ten thousand Sin Stones, and to compete was over a hundred thousand.”

“That’s absurd,” Jonas quickly did the mental math. “Two million people watching would bring in twenty billion Sin Stones. That doesn’t even sound real.”

“That doesn’t include the money from participants. It’s the highest-grossing event in the Outlands.”

“Why would fighters pay that much to join?” Jonas knew he’d never pay that much to fight on a big stage. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“If glory isn’t enough or the ability to fight strong opponents, how about the grand prizes? Cash, mansions, penthouse suites, luxury sports cars, and sometimes cruise ship tickets,” Jonas felt his heart lurch at her words.

“When is this year's tournament?”

“Four weeks. A bit strange because it usually doesn’t happen until the end of summer,” Athena tilted her head and stared heavily at Jonas as if her words contained hidden meaning.

“Why is that strange?” But then Jonas thought of the answer himself. “They’re doing the tournament a few weeks before the Sineville of the Seas departs, which means a golden ticket is probably the prize.”

“It’s not the first time,” said Athena. “Over a decade ago, Hatchet LLC got their hands on a ticket and used it to draw in the biggest tournament crowd ever. There’s no official announcement, but the speculation is enough to tempt any Sinner looking for one. Mark my words, the next few weeks will bring a bunch of Sinners to Liberty City, and I think that’ll be evidence that the first-place prize will be a golden ticket.”

“It makes sense,” Jonas grew excited and sat upright in his chair. “Thank you so much. I appreciate the tip.”

“No problem. I think you’ll die taking the test, but I got a soft spot for hot idiots who march head-first into danger. Let me ask you a question. Do you think you could beat me in a fight?”

“No. But I’d at least try,” Jonas didn’t hesitate to tell the truth.”

“Then I’ve got bad news for you. If I entered the tournament this year, I doubt I’d make the top ten,” Athena’s words were like cold water poured on Jonas’ hopes and dreams. “Maybe last year I could’ve come in the top-five, sure. However, with a golden ticket on the line, it’ll bring in not only the best young Sinners in the Outlands but also veteran True Sinners who’ve failed the Sin Assessment and are looking for another shot.”

“You sure know how to give a guy blue balls,” Jonas chuckled, downed his drink, and sighed. “Not good enough for the assessment, nor the tournament for a ticket.”

“What happened to all the confidence you had earlier? That guy was way more attractive.”

“I’m definitely going to enter the tournament, but I’ve got to find the funds first.”

“You’ll need to learn how to create a Sin Shield before you enter. It’s the ability to harden your aura and form an invisible barrier around your skin to protect you from physical and mental damage. Nearly everyone in the Hardcore Hatchet Tournament will be able to coat themselves with a protective shield. You need to learn it too. However, Sin Shield is hard to do if you can’t use Sin Sense. You need to see your aura to control it.”

“That sounds interesting, but I can’t imagine a shield surrounding my body,” Jonas looked closely at the skin on Athena’s pale arm but saw nothing strange.

“Here. Touch it and open your mind to the feeling of Sin,” she stretched her arm. He placed his finger in the pit of her forearm but didn’t feel soft, supple skin like he’d expected. Instead, he felt a gentle shock that vibrated the tip of his finger and repelled it like it was the opposite polarity to her skin.

“I can feel it. That’s a trip,” Jonas ran his finger down her arm, but the more pressure he put, the more the repulsive sensation pushed his finger back. “What happens if I were to hit you full force?”

“You’d get your butt kicked,” she pulled her arm back and smirked at him. “If your attack is strong enough, it will shatter my shield, and I’d have to try and create a new one. However, it takes a minute for enough aura to be available for a new one, which means you’ll be vulnerable to enemy attacks.”

“That makes sense. I appreciate you teaching me all of this. You’ve been a great help,” Jonas chugged the rest of his drink and gave her a determined look. “I’ve got a lot of work cut out for me.”

“You do,” Athena stood up, stepped toward Jonas, and ran her hand through his hair. “I’m doing another dance soon, so I’ve got to get ready.”

“Do your thing,” Jonas felt numb from her touch, and when he stood up, his entire body was relaxed, and his Sin Scars faded until they were almost gone. “I’ll come back to watch you soon. For now, I need to focus on training. Until next time,” they met eyes and could tell they each felt a great attraction. However, neither was in the mood to act on it. She opened the door for Jonas, and he slowly marched out, around the corner, and back to the main room. The bartender, Jessica, was pouring a drink when she turned and saw him coming back. She shook her head, and her expression was annoyed.

“Oh, good, she turned you down. So you’ve decided to come running back to me. Listen, if you think I’ll be someone’s second choice—you’re correct. Take my number and get out of here,” Jonas stared at her like she was something he’d never seen before. Then, he burst into laughter, and his smile was intoxicating for Jessica, who was momentarily stunned.

“I didn’t plan on getting close to anyone during my time in Liberty City because I’m leaving soon. If you’re okay with that, I’ll take your number,” Jessica glared at him, nodded, and then exchanged phone numbers.

“Let’s link up soon,” Jonas waved at her. “Have a great night,” he strode out of Club Dream with new information, goals, and two acquaintances. All in all, his stop paid off for him. Jonas stepped onto the street with the evening sun shining down on him. What was next? He’d spent the entire day acting like a Commoner but had yet to complete his Sin Suppression training. Jonas knew he was so close to the finish line, and he needed one more push to make it happen.

Tower of Hell: Sineville of the Seas, Book 2, Chapter 134

Late chapter. I was on my anniversary trip and didn't have much time for writing. Thanks for your patience!

Liberty City was the heart of the Outlands. Ironically named, it was built by slaves a few hundred years previous to the modern day, and colonial culture was the foundation of its society. What started as a pet project for angry patriots of the American revolution soon became the foothold for bringing modern culture to Hell. The city became so popular that nearby towns, villages, and cities began to copy its culture and values, which quickly shaped the Outlands from being stuck in the Renaissance Era to a bustling metropolis full of coal-fueled technology, skyscrapers, and crony capitalism.

Jonas stared wide-eyed at the city's outskirts, and his vision went from the pale highways raised above the crimson grass and up to the pointed tips of the thousands of skyscrapers that grew like thin mountains from the base of the city. For the first time since he'd started driving, Jonas noticed a significant boost in traffic and put two hands on the wheel as the highway he was on continued deeper into the city.

"Welcome to Liberty City, kid," Old Louie lit a cigarette and stared reminiscently at the steel giants reaching toward the bright crimson sky. "It's still part of Commoner society, and you're not going to see Sinners everywhere as you'd find in the Inlands, but this place is different from anything else in all the Outlands."

"It's incredible. It makes Sun City look like a small town," as far as his eyes could see, were apartment buildings, complexes, and highways stretching between them. There were giant billboards advertising alcohol, cigarettes, and escorts, and Jonas noticed plenty of neon lights and brightly colored signs advertising fast-food restaurants and bars.

"Wait til we get to our destination. It's not named Grandview for no good reason," and it was about an hour later when the two of them made their way through traffic, merged onto a main road, and found themselves in the parking lot of a giant snow globe-shaped hotel that was a few hundred meters tall. Stepping out of his vehicle, Jonas craned his neck to see the top of the shimmering building, and its thousands of glass windows reflected the sunlight and gave the impression it was full of light.

"You weren't kidding," Jonas gave Old Louie a skeptical look. "You're sure we're staying here for free?"

"You question your master?" Old Louie spat on the ground. "I already texted my friend and told him we were on our way. Damn, you unfilial good-for-nothing disciple."

"Alright, alright," Jonas shook his head and walked alongside Old Louie, through the packed parking lot and toward the wide front doors. Two security guards were standing outside with swords strapped to their backs, and they mean-mugged the master-disciple pair as they passed through the doors and into the marble-accented main lobby. Before the second pair of doors closed, Jonas heard one of them radio in and mention Sinners, which meant they recognized his dim cross-shaped Sin Scars. Sure enough, security in the lobby was eyeing him and Old Louie down while every camera zoomed in on their faces.

"No worries, kid," Old Louie swaggered toward the front desk, where two attractive women sent them fake smiles. "Commoner businesses are always weary when a Sinner walks in. After you've mastered Sin Suppression, you won't have to worry about everyone being on guard when you go somewhere. Hey sweetheart," the old healer rapped his knuckles against the clerk's desk. "Tell Arthur that Louie Darnell is here to see him."

"Excuse me?" The clerk looked at Old Louie's clothes, and her dainty nose wrinkled from his stench.

"Tell Arthur Mann to get his ass down here and see his good old pal, Old Louie."

"Arthur Mann? You want me to call the owner of the Grandview hotel down here to greet you?" The clerk stopped smiling and shook her head. "Stop joking around. Unless you're renting a room, please leave. If you decide to take further action, security will help you find the exit."

"By the way," her coworker saw Jonas' Sin Scars and chimed. "We've got Sinners too. Don't try anything funny."

"Excuse me?" Old Louie raised his voice, and Jonas cringed because he knew his master's temper was rising and was seconds from causing a scene. "Little twat, I told you to call down Arthur Mann. He's expecting us. I have a damn appointment with him. I'm an honored guest."

"Then let me give you a warm welcome," the clerk's eyebrow twitched at being called a twat, and she waved to security. "Julian, please escort these two off the premises."

"Mother fucker!" Old Louie was triggered out of embarrassment because he'd talked up his relationship with Arthur Man to Jonas. "Jonas, handle the security," to which Jonas made a bewildered face.

"Old bastard. Didn't you say you texted him? Why didn't he let the front desk know we were coming."

"Shut up, stupid," Old Louie glared and pointed a crusty finger in the clerk's face. "He didn't respond, but I assume he'd see the message at some point."

"God fucking dammit," Jonas felt a strong hand grip his shoulder from behind. "Let go of me before you lose your hand," but the grip tightened, and Julian seemed unfazed by the threat.

"Little boy, I've been a Sinner longer than you could stand. I'm giving you a chance to leave," Julian's flame-shaped Sin Scars began to glow, and two other security guards closed in, both unsheathed swords and their hands glowed.

"Alright," Jonas' Sin Scars lit up like tiny red suns. He grabbed Julian's hand, twisted it, and the security guard had no time to react as his wrist broke and nearly pulled out of the socket. He screamed and tried to pull his arm away, but Jonas stepped backward and flung Julian over his shoulder and hard onto the marble floor. Before the other security guards could react, Jonas had his foot on Julian's neck and pressed down until it was bent and dangerously close to snapping. "Sheathe your swords, or he dies," the two security guards glanced at each other, and both put their weapons away. Julian's face was red from pain and embarrassment, and veins in his neck and forehead throbbed from being compressed so harshly.

"Let him go," said the security guard.

"Call Arthur Mann," Jonas looked unfazed, and there was an unnatural coldness in his youthful expression. "Tell him Louie Darnell is here to meet him. If you don't, your friend dies."

"Fine. I'll call the boss down," Jonas didn't know it, but the clerk who spoke was in a relationship with Julian, and it hurt her stomach to see him seconds from having his neck snapped clean in half. She picked up a wireless phone from the desk, dialed a number, and put it to her ear. "Sir, I'm sorry to bother you, but we have an issue in the lobby."

"Good call on using the guard to threaten them," Old Louie whispered loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Shut up."

"There's a homeless-looking man named Louie Darnell who says he has an appointment with you. We asked him to leave, but there was an altercation, and Julian is being held hostage by some kid with Sin Scars," she glared at Jonas with tearful eyes and waited to hear the anger in her boss's voice. The voice on the other end of the phone grew furious, and Jonas could hear muffled shouts. "Sir. I'm so sorry," the clerk's face turned white as she stared at Old Louie, who was still glaring at her. "Yes, Sir. I understand, Sir. I'll see you soon."

"I hope unemployment treats you well, dumb ass twat," Old Louie fake spat on the ground and gave the clerk a shit-eating grin. With eyes wide from shock, the clerk hung up the phone, nodded at her coworker, and then tearfully bowed her head.

"My apologies, Sir," her voice was shaky and choked, and Jonas could immediately tell that she'd called Arthur Mann, and he wasn't happy with what she told him. "Mr. Mann is on his way down and will personally greet you."

"Phooey on him!" Old Louie shouted and stomped one of his molded shoes. "You had your chance to welcome me, but you blew it. Come on, Jonas. We're out of here," he gave the two clerks a look of disgust before turning around and shaking his head.

"No!" The crying clerk frantically stretched her arm across the desk and grasped toward Old Louie, who was out of reach. "Please wait!"

Jonas let go of his hostage and shook his head at the turn of events while Julian rubbed his neck and got off the floor. He glared at Jonas, but there was trepidation in his heart because he knew the blonde youth wasn't so simple after quickly getting the better of him.

"Tina, what the fuck happened?" He looked over at his teary-eyed girlfriend, who was seconds from having a breakdown.

"He's indeed a guest of Arthur Mann," Tina sobbed. Her heart was racing because only a few minutes were left until she was unemployed and would lose everything. "Mr. Darnell, please don't leave. I'm begging you."

"Too bad!" Old Louie looked angry, but Jonas rolled his eyes because he knew his master was putting on a show. "You know, I once saved your boss's son's life. You could say I'm his greatest benefactor and the only reason your young master is still alive," his words made Tina, Julian, and the rest of the worker's faces pale from fright. "Such a precious karmic tie had been unknotted and ruined by your idiocy. My student and I are leaving. Beg all you want, but it won't change anything."

"Hold on. It's Jonas, right?" Julian cleared his throat and threw his ego aside.

"That's right," said Jonas. "Why do you care now?"

"I was just doing my job. Our boss pays Tina to check people in and pays me to remove security threats. Neither of us could've known you were telling the truth about knowing Arthur Mann. I mean, look at him," Julian glanced toward Old Louie's unsightly appearance. "Wouldn't you be skeptical in my shoes?"

"I would," Jonas smiled, which surprised the security guard. "If you apologize, I might be able to forgive you.

"I'm sorry," Julian didn't hesitate to humble himself for Tina's sake. It impressed Jonas to see someone in Hell being unselfish.

"I'm sorry too," Tina bowed her head so quickly that tears shot off her cheeks and splashed onto the floor.

"Our apologies, Sir," said her coworker, the other clerk. Even the two other security guards bowed their heads and gave their apologies.

"Water under the bridge," said Jonas, but it made Old Louie's eyebrow twitch out of annoyance because he wanted to milk the situation more.

"Shitty disciple! Nobody asked for your opinion. Goddammit, now I have to stay," Old Louie turned on the spot and marched right back toward the workers. "You're so fucking lucky my dumbass disciple is a soft-hearted, mushy pussy. Since he's taken pity on you, I guess I'll stay and wait for Arthur to come down. However, don't even think about disrespecting me ever again. Remember my damn face, you twats! I'm Louie Darnell, and I'm an honored guest!" To which the workers nodded their heads and gave grateful glances toward Jonas.

"You should heal Julian's wrist," Jonas looked and saw it was bruised, swollen, and unnaturally twisted out of the socket.

"You do it," Old Louie crossed his arms and paid no attention to the broken wrist. It was beneath him to heal.

"No worries," Julian had so much adrenaline in his system that the damage didn't hurt as much as it should, but he also had no place to ask Arthur Mann's honored guests to do anything else after they had offended them so terribly.

"Fine. I'll do it," Jonas stepped toward Julian. "Let me see your sword."

"Sorry?" The security guard panicked because it was such a strange request. Who needed a sword to heal someone?

"Just let me see it," Jonas had an impatient tone in his voice, so very reluctantly, Julian unsheathed his sword from his back and passed it over. He licked his lips and prepared to dodge if the teen slashed at him; he had no plans to be slain by his sword. However, Jonas surprised the room by slicing his palm against the blade, and they watched his blood pool from a three-inch gash. "Let me see your wrist," he stepped toward Julian, who scrunched his eyebrows and raised his damaged hand forward. Two cross-shaped Sin Scars glowed brightly as Jonas gently grasped the broken wrist with his bleeding hand. He coated it with his blood and attempted to perform True Sin. Julian was not Jonas' enemy; therefore, the security guard needn't suffer for his past transgression any longer. Jonas focused on his desire to heal the damage he'd caused a weaker opponent: an opponent who'd already apologized and surrendered.

"It's hot," Julian felt his wrist go very warm under Jonas' bleeding grasp. Then the youth gently twisted and rotated it back into the socket. Julian pulled his arm back, examined his blood-stained wrist, and was bewildered because although there was still pain and a bit of swelling, Jonas had healed the bone and torn ligaments to the point the wrist was back to working function.

"Sorry," said Jonas. "I've only practiced healing surface-level stuff like cuts and bruises. It will need more time to heal, but the internal damage is gone," he handed the sword back to Julian, who took it while noticing the cut on Jonas' hand had vanished.

"Thank you," he nodded his head and sheathed his sword. "True Sin is something."

"Shit job," Old Louie interrupted. "You didn't fully heal the wound. I'm ashamed to call you my disciple."

"Feel free to finish," Jonas grinned at his scowling master. "How an asshole like you got a Monk's Sin Scars, I'll never know."

"No need," Julian frantically waved off the suggestion. He'd already offended the guest of Arthur Mann and had no mind to ask any request. Besides, Jonas had already done a great job at healing the damage.

"Don't worry about your boss," Jonas shook his head. "I'll tell him it was our fault, and we'd hate to see any of you fired," to which all the workers nodded their heads gratefully. After a few minutes of awkward, idle chit-chat, the elevator doors opened, and a few men stepped out. Five men wore black suits, with swords strapped to their backs, and had glowing Sin Scars, while the one in the lead was shorter and wore a big smile, a golfer's polo, and jeans. Jonas knew immediately the person beaming at them was Arthur Mann, who had bullseye-shaped Sin Scars on the back of his hands.

"Louie!" Arthur grew happier after seeing the familiarity of Old Louie's homeless appearance. "I can't believe it's you. How long has it been?" He crossed the room, passed his trembling workers, and shook hands with the old quack.

"A long while," Old Louie's face looked cranky. "How's Aaron?"

"Still a little asshole," Arthur chuckled. "However, he's refrained from offending True Sinners since his near-death scare."

"Shit," Old Louie pulled his hand back and shook his head. "He's lucky I was walking nearby. That big-ass Sinner nearly ripped all his intestines out. By the way, this is my dumbass disciple, Jonas," he pointed at the handsome youth.

"Good to meet you," Arthur Mann offered his hand, and Jonas politely smiled and shook it. "Any disciple of Louie Darnell is welcomed here at the Grandview Hotel. Your master saved my dumbass son's life, and I'm forever grateful," Arthur looked over at his employees and frowned. "What did my staff do to offend you?"

"Nothing at all," Jonas replied before Old Louie could get them fired. "It's our fault for being so vague. My dumbass, homeless-looking master swaggered in here and demanded to see you. Your employees looked out for you and didn't want to waste your time. I broke Julian's wrist when he asked me to leave. That's all that happened.

"Really?" Arthur glanced at Old Louie, who paused and mean-mugged the handful of scared workers. Then he clicked his tongue and sighed. "It's like my disciple just said. I might've left out a few details about our relationship. It's my fault for not elaborating," but the apology seemed to cause Old Louie pain because he winced.

"I can fire them if it would appease you," Arthur didn't want to throw his staff on the streets, but he also was willing to appease Old Louie as a favor. "Sinners like Julian are tricky to replace, but Commoner clerks are a dime-a-dozen."

"No need," said Old Louie, who caught Jonas' eye and knew his disciple would be pissed if he continued pressing the matter. "They were doing their jobs. Let's head upstairs and chat. This old boy could use some lunch for his rumbling stomach."

"Then I'll take no further action," Arthur glanced at his employees. "Thank Louie and Jonas for their generosity. Today you all keep your jobs because they decided it," and color returned to the faces of both clerks. Each employee took a turn thanking the master-disciple pair, and then they shrank out of view and back to their posts.

"No worries," Jonas shook his head.

"Let's head upstairs and chat," Arthur gestured toward the large elevator. "I'm surprised you're back in Liberty City, and you brought a disciple? Two things I didn't expect to happen to you, Louie."

"Me either," Old Louie chuckled. "However, my good-for-nothing disciple is taking this year's Sin Assessment, and we've come to find him a ticket."

"Unfortunately, I didn't get any tickets this year," the elevator doors opened, and their group stepped inside. It was a comfortable fit, even with so many people. "I heard the testers were overly selective this year. They only gave tickets to big-time organizations, Sinners with huge potential, or loud-mouth celebrities who would be open season for True Sinners. Unfortunately, my son and I don't qualify as any of those," Arthur laughed as the elevator closed. "Top floor," one of his guards pressed a button for the seventy-fifth floor.

"So, how have you been?" Old Louie's stench quickly filled the elevator, and peppery musk and the smell of swamp replaced the formerly fresh scent.

"Pretty good, old friend," Arthur ran his hand through his short black hair. "How long has it been since you were last in Liberty City? At least ten years, right?"

"Fifteen,' said Old Louie. "I've been hanging out in Sun City. A lot fewer assholes."

"Oh, so true," Arthur smiled. The small talk continued until the elevator doors opened, and Jonas and Old Louie were led down a windowless corridor and through golden doors into a beautiful penthouse suite. Bright sunlight shined from the massive windows, and it wasn't long before Jonas saw why the hotel was called Grandview. He could see half the city from his position and noticed things he'd never imagined in his wildest dreams. A real mountain peaked proudly from a forestry park on the city's eastern horizon, and on the western side was a massive skyscraper with a full-sized ship skewered through the building. It made Jonas feel like a giant had scooped a big boat from the sea, raised it into the sky, and dropped it onto a monster-sized tower. There was a life-like pyramid the color of shimmering gold, a Ferris wheel-shaped apartment that rotated in a circle, and ridiculously massive buildings built with various cultural architecture.

"Liberty City is a different beast, kid," Old Louie smiled as he saw the awe on Jonas' face. "It's an egotistical monster of a city where every shithead with money wants to build another eyesore of a skyscraper. It's mainly Commoners, but Sinners are more open about their business. There are entire groups of them moonlighting as corporate companies, martial art schools, religious organizations, gambling houses, and academies. See that giant tree over there?" Old Louie pointed far off, where Jonas noticed a three-hundred-meter-tall oak growing from the concrete streets. "That's the headquarters for the Redwood Saints, a Sinner organization known for providing healing services."

"What about that Sphinx?" Jonas pointed to a giant sandy beast-shaped building between a coin-shaped tower and a massive car the size of a hospital.

"Sons of Ra," Old Louie cackled. "Egyptian gang of Sinners. You don't want to fuck with them. However, they've got a hell of a casino."

"And the mountain? Is that a skyscraper too?" Jonas saw Old Louie narrow his eyes and stare at the titanic rock covered in trees and shrubbery. "Funny you should mention that mountain. It's artificial, but not a skyscraper. My friend owns it, so I've been there a few times. Speaking of that friend," Old Louie stroked his beard and glanced at Jonas. "He's a possibility when it comes to getting a golden ticket. Arthur, do you have any ideas?"

"A few," Arthur nodded. "Come sit down and talk with me for a bit. I'm interested in hearing how you two met," the Sinner security guards went and reclaimed their posts while Louie and Jonas took nearby seats on black leather armchairs. "You know, Louie? I never took you as the teaching type. Don't get me wrong: you're a hell of a healer. I'm just surprised."

"Jonas and I had karmic ties I couldn't ignore. He's a talented Sinner but a late bloomer and a huge pussy. It'll be hard for him to make it on the Sineville of the Seas, but he's insisted on trying."

"Fair enough," Arthur Mann laughed and smiled at Jonas. "Why Old Louie?"

"I had no other choice. This old bastard was the first True Sinner I came across," Jonas purposely kept his backstory vague because he didn't trust Arthur. Old Louie glanced at Jonas and nodded. They had already brainstormed a detailed story for Jonas to tell people when prodded about his background. "I'm a Hellite orphan born and raised in a small-time gang. Unfortunately, they're all gone now. It was Old Louie who taught me about Hellites and Sinners. Back then, I used to ask the gang leader why the demons didn't send me to Little Heaven, and he'd tell me that they rejected me because I was a bad boy. The fact I was a Hellite made more sense once Louie told me."

"Ouch," Arthur Mann gave a pitying look toward Jonas, but it didn't feel real. "That's not an uncommon story. When a Hellite is born, parents are extra vigilant because thieves will come and try to steal their newborn, which is worth a lot. Thankfully, newborn Hellites are so rare that you won't see one in your lifetime."

"Why?" Jonas scrunched his brow.

"Because parents won't announce or celebrate pregnancy and birth as they do on Earth. Only the most powerful families in Sin City are brave enough to tell the world that their organization is about to gain a new talented Sinner. I'm guessing your parents were Commoners who got lucky in producing a Hellite offspring. However, they probably told the wrong person, got killed, and you ended up with whatever small-time goons."

"Yeah, I think you're right. Are you a Hellite?" Jonas smiled innocently, but he knew the answer. There was no way someone as rich, powerful, and arrogant as Arthur Mann wasn't a Hellite born and raised in Hell.

"My Mann family has been instrumental in Liberty City real estate for two centuries. Between all the men, women, and distant relatives, we own over a dozen skyscrapers and hundreds of apartment complexes. Very humbly, my family is ranked eighty-eight on the Keys to Liberty City: a list of the most powerful families and organizations. We're ranked near last, but at least we're ranked," Arthur chuckled, and Jonas swore he saw Old Louie roll his eyes.

"That's pretty cool," Jonas gave a pleasant smile and tried to change the topic to something that wasn't ego-stroking. "So you don't have any ideas about tickets for the Sin Assessment?"

"The distribution of the tickets changes each year. Most will go to Key organizations ranked in the top-fifty, but the testers will distribute a few to notable solo Sinners and some celebrities. I'd try buying information off the black market because I haven't heard anything on the streets, but eventually, someone will be dumb enough to brag about them."

"We're still nowhere closer to getting one," Jonas sighed. "Well, I knew it wouldn't be that easy."

"Arthur, old friend, "Old Louie gave a toothy grin. "As you can see, I must find my disciple a golden ticket. In the meantime, we don't have a place to stay," he wiggled his bushy eyebrows to hint at Arthur.

"Say no more," Arthur Mann clapped his hands together. "I've got a penthouse suite with your name on it. Feel free to stay there for as long as you need."

"Three months, old friend," Old Louie stood up and stuck out his hand, which Arthur Mann gripped.

"I'll send Aaron to visit you and pay his respects. He's been training in anticipation of taking over my position. He's a talented kid, but his temper keeps getting in the way. Preston," Arthur nodded at one of his security guards. "Show Louie and Jonas to King Suite Three. I've got business to attend to, but I'll invite you for dinner soon," he patted Old Louie on the shoulder and led him to the front door with Jonas following.

"Sounds perfect. Does the King Suite Three come with room service?" Jonas rolled his eyes at his master's shamelessness.

"Of course. Room service, free buffet access, whatever you need. Your next three months will be leisurely and stress-free. I'll text you when I've got time for a drink. Good to see you, Louie," he watched the master and disciple leave the room and follow Preston back into the elevator.

"Our young master is alive because of you," Preston pressed one floor down on the elevator. "Anything you need, don't hesitate to call the front desk and ask for me."

"Sure thing, Peter," The elevator stopped on the seventy-fourth floor, and when the doors opened, Jonas saw a long marble hallway with four golden doors.

"Each one of these leads to a King suite. They're four-thousand square feet with a full kitchen, bar, multiple bedrooms, indoor spa, and balcony," Preston pulled out his hell phone. "I'll transfer you temporary access to the room. You can use your phone to unlock the door and give you access to Grandview services and the front desk."

"I'll take ownership," Jonas spoke before Old Louie could say anything. He gave his number, and Preston sent him ownership of the room.

'Preston Thomas has given you a three-month stay at the Grandview Hotel, King Suite Three. Do you accept it?' Jonas clicked the accept button and noticed a wide selection of hotel features on his phone. At least that way, he'd control the room, not Old Louie.

"You can leave us here," said Old Louie. "My disciple and I have some things to discuss, but we're more than capable of finding our way around a hotel room.

"Of course," Preston nodded and stepped back into the elevator. "Just call the front desk if you need anything at all. Good day."

"Arthur Mann is still a pompous jackass," Old Louie waited for the security guard to be out of earshot before badmouthing his boss. "Whatever, the point was to get a free room. Jonas, don't trust anyone here. Got it?"

"Sure thing," Jonas found suite three and used his phone to unlock the door, which electronically slid open and revealed an incredibly luxurious room. It shimmered in the afternoon sunlight, and every surface was spotless. There was a nice kitchen and dining room, but neither Jonas nor Old Louie could cook. Each of the four bedrooms had a luxury bathroom with a walk-in shower and pool-sized bathtub, and the den had a large hot tub, billiard tables, and a full-size bar stocked with alcohol. After fifteen minutes of looking around, Jonas and Louie had chosen bedrooms and hung out in the lounge. Jonas made him and his master strong drinks while waiting for their room service, which they'd ordered.

"After we eat, I'm sending you on a mission," Old Louie sipped a whiskey beverage and smacked his lips. "You make a good drink."

"What mission?" Jonas had a bad feeling. He wondered if Old Louie would send him to assassinate people to toughen up.

"I want you to go for a walk and find some public places to visit. Don't come back until your Sin Scars are gone. If you have to sleep outside, that's too bad."

"You think that'll help me master my Sin Suppression?"

"Don't return until those scars have vanished. Go pretend you're a Commoner who can't Sin."

Tower of Hell: Sineville of the Seas, Book 2, Chapter 133

Book Two is here! Thanks so much for all the support. Sineville of the Seas will see Jonas training with Old Louie, exploring Liberty City, and hopefully riding the famous cruise ship all the way to becoming a certified Sinner. However, our protagonist will need to prepare himself mentally and emotionally to face the biggest threat of his journey so far, Hellites.

I would love it if everyone reading this note could head to the main page for Tower of Hell, and give a rating/review that represents how you feel about the story. Every rating greatly improves the ranking of the web novel and allows it to be seen by more people. Thank you so much.

A beautiful nighttime sky hung over the Outlands. Beneath the crimson moon, twinkling stars, and wispy clouds, there was a long stretch of dark highway surrounded by open fields and only a single establishment within a hundred miles of the area. The midnight air was too cold for crickets to play their music, but red fireflies illuminated themselves and glowed within the tall grass, painting a beautiful picture seen from the windows of a motel. This rundown sleepaway was part of a hotel chain called Last Stop, known for its cheap rates, unsavory tenants, and vending machines with expired snacks. Bright spotlights lit the parking lot, but there were only two parked cars: the owner's sports car and a brand new Cerberus Shadow luxury sedan.

Since leaving Sun City, Jonas Ariel had stayed in crappy motels every night that he and Old Louie had been together. The master and disciple pair had been on the road for six days, and each made Jonas beg for freedom away from the smelly old quack who spent every waking minute trying to annoy him.

Besides the fact that Old Louie refused to shower and smelled like he was wearing Little Wrath City scented cologne, he also trashed the interior of Jonas' car. He'd gotten ketchup stains on the seats, spilled soda on the carpet, and left a permanent lingering smell of gas because of the time he ate an extra-large chili. Then there was the fact that Old Louie never seemed to have any money or mysteriously had to visit the bathroom when the check was about to come to their table at a restaurant. He was sure to order room service at every motel they stopped at—Old Louie loved scallops and wine and screwed with Jonas' radio channels by playing annoying classical music very loudly.

The first few days had been tolerable, but the final stretch had plenty of moments where Jonas was huffing and cursing under his breath, praying that his master would behave like a normal human being for one day. The only thing that made their time together bearable was when they'd stop at a motel for the night, and Old Louie would give him lessons on Sinning. That night, in their hotel room, Jonas was seated cross-legged on the rickety motel bed, shirtless and sweaty, and his cross-shaped Sin Scars glowed splendidly.

"Okay, kid. I want you to recap yesterday's lesson for me. What's a True Sinner?" Old Louie was lounging in an armchair and had his crusty, dirty fingers deep inside a bag of chips. He shoveled a handful inside his mouth, and crumbs fell and got stuck inside his nest-like beard while he wiped his chip fingers all over the couch fabric between handfuls. Jonas' lessons would begin with a fast-paced workout, then some cool-down meditation, a recap of the previous day's lesson, and he ended the night by learning a new subject.

"True Sinners refers to people who've awoken their Original Sin, can do Sin Sorcery, or have taken the Sin Assessment," Jonas scrunched his eyebrows. "I think that's it."

"The title True Sinner is interchangeable in a lot of different scenarios. However, an easy way to remember is if the person in question belongs to a Sinner society or do they just have scars. If they've got Sin Scars but aren't a True Sinner, they're a poser."

"So, is that why people consider the Black Butcher a True Sinner even though he failed the Sin Assessment?"

"That's exactly right. I'd consider you a True Sinner because you're part of the lifestyle. You've got an Original Sin, and you've done Sin Sorcery. The friends you left behind would all be posers, in my opinion. No offense, but connecting with Sin Scars and waking Cardinal Sins is not enough to be considered a True Sinner. It goes beyond the basics. Do you understand?"

"I got it," Jonas felt sad when he thought of the people he left behind. He needed to change the subject. "Sin is a force that makes up everything in Hell. Both Sinners and True Sinners can control and manipulate that Sin in some capacity. Right?"

"Great, now you've got the most basic fucking information memorized. Finally," Old Louie cackled and gave Jonas a toothy smile.

"You're the one who spent the last few days starting from the beginning. I didn't need to go over the seven Cardinal Sins, what all the Sin Scars look like, or how to awaken them. Not only that, but you made me go over all the common personality traits associated with each Sin. I didn't need to go over all that because I lived it," Jonas gave Old Louie a dead-pan stare. "I'm not an amateur."

"Oh, you're not?" Old Louie looked mildly surprised. "Last time I checked, I was the master, and you were the disciple. I think that means I'll decide what we learn, right? So, dumbass, if I want you to go over the basics, it's because it's fucking important to make sure you have the big picture when it comes to Sin. That means understanding the fundamentals."

"Fuck you."

"Little asshole. Hellite youths start learning about Sin when they're toddlers. They'll know and recognize all the Sin Scars a few years later, and they'll have their own Cardinal Sin by the time they can think for themselves. I've covered the basic terms these past few days because Hellite youths will have gone over them for years. Why? Because their parents are certified True Sinners and understand that solid fundamentals make a good Sinner. That's why," Old Louie crossed his arms and stared grumpily at the wall, and Jonas' eyebrow twitched out of frustration because he knew the old quack was correct.

"Sorry. You're right," Jonas felt his Pride protest at the apology, but deep down, he knew he'd been wrong for questioning his master's teachings. "You're the True Sinner, and you'd know best," Old Louie pouted and gave him a sidelong glance.

"Fine. Since you've admitted your inferiority and stupidity, I'll forgive you this once. Don't let it happen again. Anyway, let's move on to Sin Sorcery," Jonas knew not to argue with the old man because he was too shameless to admit he was wrong. "True Sin, otherwise known as Sin Sorcery, is the act of controlling Sin to manipulate ourselves and the world around us. Do you remember the two types of True Sin?"

"Internal and External."

"Good. Internal Sin Sorcery is about using Sin to change or manipulate yourself. It's the easiest Sin to learn and control because it comes from within you. Every Sinner will start their journey by performing Internal Sin: connecting their personalities with their Cardinal Sin, unlocking their Sin Scars, and using those scars to enhance their physical abilities."

"I understand," Jonas nodded. "I went through all of that when I unlocked mine. So, that whole time I was already doing Internal Sin Sorcery," he was amazed that he'd never learned such a simple term, even though he'd been through so much as a Sinner.

"Perhaps, you can see why it's so important to learn the basics?" Old Louie was all smiles as he stared at Jonas.

"Yeah. I can't take the Sin Assessment without knowing basic shit like Internal or External Sin. I'll look fucking stupid, and I'll probably die."

"As long as you know," Old Louie gave his student an approving nod. "The most fundamental type of True Sin is to enhance our physical abilities. We can infuse our muscles and joints with Sin to make us faster, stronger, and more agile. We can boost our bones to make them more durable or our eyes to see better in the dark. We can make our sense of smell as strong as an animal, or our immune systems capable of healing quicker, and we can even improve our digestive system to break down inedible objects. There's an infinite list of changes you can make to yourself using Internal Sin; however, those changes should align with your Cardinal Sin and your Original Sin."

"I understand," Jonas nodded. "You can't go against your Cardinal Sin, and your Sin Sorcery will be much stronger if you base it on whatever your Original Sin is."

"We don't go against our Cardinal Sins because they are reflections of our personality and deep-rooted desires and convictions. Most acts of True Sin that go against our Cardinal Sin will fail or be extremely poor. You'll feel your connection to your Sin Scars grow weak, and you won't have much control. Aligning your Sin Sorcery with your Cardinal Sin is a must, but having it fall within your Original Sin specialty is optional but will make it easier to manifest what you wish to do. Do you understand?"

"I've experienced all of that down in Little Wrath City. I do understand."

"Good. Before we move on to External Sin, let's talk about your Original Sin and what types of Internal Sin you've been able to accomplish up until this point."

"My Original Sin is to infuse my blood with my willpower and to control it."

"Precisely. I know your power still has secrets to discover, and the ceiling is unknown, but it's still an impressive Original Sin, even in its most basic form. You'll need to continue testing and coming up with ways to experiment with your powers. Tell me, what types of True Sin can you do, and which category do they fall under?"

"So, I can regenerate abnormally fast. I've had my skull crushed, my tongue sliced off, almost every bone broken, and my organs ruptured. I've even had first-degree burns that recovered in a few minutes. I used to have to think about healing myself, but now I do it subconsciously. That's all Internal Sin, right?"

"Very good. What else?"

"One time, I made my body leak a crazy amount of blood. That's an Internal Sin too. I also made someone slip when he stepped in a puddle of my blood, but that's an External Sin. Right?"

"Correct on both accounts," said Old Louie.

"I can make my blood have acidic properties. It's capable of burning skin and corroding metals. I've also used my blood to heal other people too. It's not as fast as my regeneration, but it's still quick."

"So, changing the qualities of your blood is internal, while using it on other people or objects is external. Do you understand that?"

"I do."

"Good," Old Louie yawned and stretched in his chair. "Do you understand the basics of Internal Sin enough to want to learn some new abilities?" Jonas immediately perked up and grew excited. Old Louie had given him plenty of lessons, but this was the first time an actual True Sin ability was on topic.

"Yes, please," Jonas nodded.

I'm about to teach you the differences between a True Sinner and a poser. Every Sinner knows the three prime survival abilities: Sin Suppression, Sin Sense, and Sin Shield. Let's start with suppressing our Sin Scars. Every True Sinner knows how to hide their scars. It's a fundamental ability needed to stay low-key and safe from your opponents. If they can't see your Sin Scars, they'll have less information on your strengths and weaknesses. You've probably noticed people wearing gloves to hide their scars, right?"

"Yeah. I've noticed."

"Posers," Old Louie fake spat on the ground. "Too fucking untalented to learn the most basic goddamn Internal Sin techniques, and they hide that with fabric. There are two ways of performing Sin Suppression. The poser way is to cover them up. That might trick a Commoner, but any decent Sinner will see past that with Sin Sense: the ability to detect Sin by enhancing your five senses."

"So, you hide Sin with Sin Suppression and detect it with Sin Sense?"

"That's the basics. Let's focus on Sin Suppression before I talk about the other two. You'll learn to disconnect from your Sin Scars without going against your Cardinal Sin. That way, your scars will fade away completely, but you'll still be in the right mind to activate them in the blink of an eye."

"Wait," said Jonas. "Doesn't that mean I can't use Sin while they're gone?"

"That's correct. As soon as you try using Sin, your scars will reappear and begin to glow, and your aura will leak out of your pores. It's just a rule we obey when using Sin Suppression. You'll have a better chance at survival, but the trade-off is you won't be able to use any Sin Sorcery while doing so. Most Sinners hide in plain sight and are unrecognizable because they're so good at suppressing their Sin and appear as normal Commoners."

"What do you mean by an aura leaking from my pores?"

"Ah," Old Louie looked a bit awkward. "That was supposed to be a lesson for another time. I'm going to keep this simple because we keep getting off track. I want to take my teachings slow for the basics to sink in. However, understanding aura is important because it's part of your body even though you don't know it. When you awaken your Sin Scars, your body produces a byproduct called an aura. It's a type of energy connected to every part of you. Well, not only can you use aura to perform some neat Sin Sorcery, but other people can garner information about you based on it. Your age, skill, mood, and Cardinal Sin are all available to be seen from your aura as long as someone is proficient with Sin Sense. That's why we first learn Sin Suppression. It shuts off your Sin Scars and stops aura from leaking out of your body, which prevents Sinners from peeping on your secrets. Got it?"

"Sort of," said Jonas. "Does aura relate to killing intent or the feeling that a Sinner is nearby?"

"Exactly. Killing intent is a powerful emotion that affects the aura of all living things nearby. It's hard to hide even if you learn to control it. Aura is a gateway into a person's soul, and you don't even realize that you're leaking information about yourself. That information can help another Sinner kill you. That's why I'm teaching you Sin Suppression."

"Okay," said Jonas. "Tell me how."

"The same way I did. Pretend you don't have Sin Scars. The idea is to slowly disconnect from your feelings toward your Sin, which is hard because you rely on it so much and feel a strong bond with it. I'm not saying you need to break the bond, but you should learn to put your Sin in a box."

"I get what you mean," Jonas couldn't remember what it was like not having Sin pumping through his body. He tried to picture himself before the scars appeared but found it difficult to imagine. The young Crusader had become so reliant on his Sin Scars that he wasn't too eager to disconnect.

"Okay. Try closing your eyes," said Old Louie, and Jonas did so. "You don't need your Sin Scars right now. Every sword has a sheath, so focus on your hands, feel the power coursing from them, and put the scars away. Use your mind's eye."

'I don't need my Sin right now,' Jonas tried to imagine his tanned hands without the glowing crosses tattooed on them, but it was hard to do. His mind kept having intrusive thoughts as if his Pride was trying to remind him how much Jonas depended on the power flowing from his Sin Scars. Every time he'd finally see his hands without the scars, they would become hot and vibrate as if they were refusing to go away.

"Ah, poor Mr. Talented can't make them disappear, can he?" Old Louie chided, and Jonas opened his eyes to see a punchable grin staring at him. "Sin can sometimes have a mind of its own, though you already know that. That's why I'm surprised your Sin Shadow willingly fused back with you. They normally are much more vicious."

"Stop," Jonas shook his head. "I don't want to talk about Pride or any other person I lost during the Hurts gang."

"Pride wasn't a person," Old Louie gave a pitiful look. "It was—"

"I don't care what you think he was!" Jonas raised his voice, and his scars began to glow. "He was a person to me, and that's what matters. Your opinion is dog shit."

"My opinion is dog shit? Fuck you. Teach yourself to get on the Sineville of the Seas or take the Hell Challenge. You don't need your master's shitty opinion."

"God fucking dammit," Jonas got up from the bed and considered swinging on Old Louie, who was making a stupid face at him. "I'm going out for a smoke. I'm tired of smelling you."

"Stupid ass disciple," Old Louie shook his head and stared at the water-damaged ceiling. The front door to the motel closed, and only after Jonas left the room did Old Louie show his aggrieved face. "Stop being so goddamn soft. Being an emotional pansy is going to burden you."

Outside, Jonas was staring out into the darkness, occasionally trying to predict where the next red firelight would glow while smoking a cigarette and trying to keep his emotions leveled. A Crusader couldn't tap into their anger, but Jonas felt like Old Louie had stepped on his Pride, which made him snap.

"Stupid old bastard," he muttered under his smokey breath. Jonas didn't like how Old Louie threatened to take away his training every time they disagreed. It was manipulative and shitty. "Just put up with him," Jonas had to remind himself every time he got too frustrated with his old master that he only needed to put up with him for three more months. After the time was up, Jonas would sail to Sin City and never have to smell Old Louie's skunk-like body odor ever again. He threw away his cigarette, took a deep breath, and strode back into the motel room.

"Are you done huffing and puffing?" Old Louie clicked his tongue impatiently.

"Yeah. I'm still feeling testy after losing people. Let's just focus on the lesson," Jonas wore a fake smile and sat cross-legged on the bed.

"Stop blowing up every time I talk about sensitive information. It's a sign of emotional immaturity and mental weakness," Old Louie shook his head. Jonas could barely stomach the irony of being called emotionally immature by someone like his master. However, he begrudgingly knew Old Louie was correct about those sensitive topics being a weakness for him, constantly disrupting his mental state.

"You're right. I'll try not to get so moody."

"You might think I'm just being a dick, which is true. However, if one of your opponents finds out how you react when faced with sensitive topics, they'll bring them up, fuck with your mood, and easily kill you without Sin as a weapon to protect yourself."

"I know. I know," Jonas sighed. "I've been compartmentalizing my feelings since the auction. Killing those people shook me. You'll say they were shitty people deserving of death and were trying to kill me first, but I still think about it and have some regrets."

"It gets easier to kill and not feel so bad about it. The first time is the hardest, but you'll kill again, so be ready. With that said, let me get back to my lesson, you little dick," Old Louie chuckled and took a sip of his soda. "Sin Suppression isn't as easy as closing your eyes and imagining it. It's difficult for beginners who've become reliant on their Sin and especially Crusaders who feel too prideful to let go of their power. The difficulty is double for you. The good news is we have plenty of time for you to work on getting it down. I want you to keep practicing all night until you can make the Sin Scars fade a bit. Once you completely hide them, we'll move on to Sin Sense and then Sin Shield."

"Double the difficulty for Crusaders?" Jonas thought of the time he'd challenged Ralph to a fight. He'd failed twice, spectacularly, and his persistence and confidence in his success helped him succeed on the third attempt. "I'll figure it out before tomorrow," Jonas stared at his Sin Scars and wanted to focus on his confidence but knew it would trigger his Sin Scars. Instead, his focus was on pretending he wasn't a Sinner anymore.

By midnight, Old Louie was snoring in one of the queen beds while Jonas was lying with his hands behind his head, eyes closed, and concentrating. He imagined himself before death when he knew nothing about Hell, Sin, or what it felt like to kill someone. Jonas had been a regular teenager getting ready to graduate and enter the workforce. He remembered his thin body, with no glowing scars on his hands, and still reliant on his older brother to care for him. Jonas felt like he was melding into his bed, his visions became daydreams, and those became night dreams as he slowly drifted into an uneasy sleep.

Jonas awoke with a startle a few minutes later and immediately noticed a change in himself. The power that constantly flowed within his veins seemed to have hibernated because it was hard to feel its presence, and he saw his Sin Scars had faded to the point they were no longer glowing and almost invisible in the darkened hotel room. Jonas immediately realized his Cardinal Sin had become partially disconnected. Soon, he lost control, and the crimson crosses on his hands began glowing. Even though his Sin Suppression was incomplete and lasted a few moments, Jonas was still excited and confident that he could do it again.

He closed his eyes and fell asleep until Old Louie woke him up a few hours later by yawning loudly and obnoxiously humming to himself.

"Good morning," his stench assaulted Jonas' nostrils so badly it made his eyes water.

"I almost suppressed my Sin last night. I couldn't figure out how to make them go away completely," he examined the cross-shaped Sin Scars that were more faded than usual.

"I know," said Old Louie. "I felt your aura diminish and noticed less Sin where you were sleeping. No worries, kid. When we get to Liberty City, I'll give you a few tasks that'll help you train all your Sin Sorceries."

"Tasks?" Jonas began stripping to take a shower. "What do you mean?"

"Never mind. I don't need so many goddamn questions first thing in the morning. As your master, it's my job to train you. Don't worry about the how," Old Louie shook his head and mumbled something that sounded like, "Good job."

"Dick," Jonas assumed it was an insult and shook his head. He went to the bathroom, stripped down, and jumped in the shower. About thirty minutes later, he and Old Louie were packed, checked out, and pulled out of the parking lot of Last Stop and onto the road toward Grandview Hotel, Liberty City.

Most highways and roads in the Outlands were two lanes for incoming and oncoming, and even after a week of driving, Jonas had crossed paths with less than a hundred other vehicles. He saw rigs pulling cargo, long-distance buses carrying people from city to city, and the occasional sedan owned by someone wealthy and influential.

"Have you thought about how I can get a ticket?" Jonas felt the warm sunlight on his skin and the cool breeze blowing against his face through the partially opened window. It was putting him in a relaxed mood.

"One thing at a time," Old Louie farted, and Jonas quickly rolled down the passenger side window. "Training first. Once you can do the three basic Sin Sorcery techniques, we'll go back to martial arts, your Original Sin, and putting everything together. After that, I'll help you get a ticket and send you on your way.

"Well, I plan on finishing Sin Suppression by tomorrow, so get ready for your next lesson," Old Louie ignored him and pointed childishly toward a massive billboard advertising Crispy Screams a hundred kilometers away. "I don't think you got money for breakfast. Do you?" Jonas smirked.

"No, but you do. Buy your old master something good to eat, and maybe it'll jog my memory and help me think of an old trick for learning Sin Suppression."

"Buy these nuts," Jonas chuckled. "They'll fill you up."

"Come on!" Old Louie cried. "I want donuts! Don't be so stingy. You damn miserly bastard."

"Fine, fine, we'll get the donuts. Don't forget that I've got to ration my money if we're going to be staying at Grandview hotel, which I still don't understand how we're going to afford to stay in for three months."

"No worries," Old Louie grinned. "Your old master has some karmic ties with the owner. He owes me a favor for saving his son's life, which means we get to stay there for as long as we like."

"Seriously?" Jonas looked surprised. "Healing is a lucrative business, isn't it?"

"Alongside slavery and security. Every good Sinner organization has a healer they can call for in emergencies. Hospitals are almost non-existent in Hell, and Commoners and Sinners will pay an arm and a leg to have a house call from their local Healer."

"No hospitals. That makes sense when everyone heals quickly and never dies of sickness."

The road to Liberty City was long, and they still had a few hours until they reached the capital of the Outlands, so they filled that time with idle conversation about Hell and Sin. After one stop for a dozen donuts and coffee at Crispy Screams and about four more hours of driving, Jonas caught sight of skyscrapers far in the distance. Liberty City was on the horizon.

Thank you to my Gold Patron, PandaLady12

Late Chapter!

Chapter 133 of Book 2 will be late this week. I was going to post it Monday, but I needed more time to work out the details. It's one of the first chapters that really goes over Sin Sorcery and I needed to decide on how a few mechanics were going to work before letting you read. I didn't want to overcomplicate Sin and introduce too many mechanics, but I also want to take it further, so you can begin to see what Jonas will be learning to survive on the Sineville of the Seas. Anyway, your scheduled chapter will be available next Monday, and I hope to be back on track. Take care!

Tower of Hell: Caged and Confused, Book 1, Chapter 132, Epilogue

The Tower of Hell consisted of six floors with similar space-time, physics, and Laws of Sin, connected by elevators only accessible by True Sinners who'd met the requirements to use them. The Overworld was the most popular and talked about because it had the most extensive population and was where most people went when they died. Then there was the elusive fifth floor, Little Heaven. Hell's Commoners didn't know much about this floor; however, more information was available because some people who'd grown up there would share knowledge and wisdom passed down to them by the angels. However, the common belief was the angels had instructed those from Little Heaven on what to say when asked questions.

The sixth floor, the Underworld, was probably the most feared and dreaded. It lacked the most information because it was rare for people sentenced to this floor to make it to the Overworld to tell their tale. If stories of the elusive sixth floor ever made it to the public ear, they would describe the Torture Rooms, the demonic city of Astray, and Dragon's Roost, a mysterious floating castle where the sixth floor's Prince of Hell lived.

It was a lovely afternoon in the Underworld. Ominous dark clouds of burnt charcoal filled the atmosphere and blocked out most of the murky red sky which was hiding. It was rare for sunlight to break past the clouds, and the citizens of Astray lived under a thick overcast their entire eternity. This fact didn't bother the demon race, who occupied the middle of three layers that divided the city, as their snake-like eyes could see through terrible conditions while their skin was impervious to smog, cold, and acid rain.

Harsh weather conditions were part and parcel of everyday life in Astray. The acid rain would sting as it hit the skin of those unlucky to be working outside, the thick smog would fill lungs and send people into coughing fits, and the cold air would cause people to shiver uncontrollably and feel like there was no warmth left in the world.

The Underworld was one massive island surrounded by mother nature's worst storms, which made it impossible to leave. While each day, the city of Astray dealt with bipolar weather capable of cruel torture, physically and mentally breaking down the Commoners who lived in the third outer ring and had no wealth or protection to help themselves.

Outside the city, on the endless crimson tides of Satan's Sea, were millions of typhoons that wreaked destruction and made it impossible for ships to sail, along with endless underwater volcanoes and vicious tornadoes that would float across the ocean and shoot acidic water back into the atmosphere. Then there were the never-ending thunderstorms with lightning that stretched miles and booms of thunder that could rupture eardrums, the frozen hail which was big enough to cause concussions, and snow so bitterly-cold people would be frozen in their homes and lose their limbs.

Even worse, most of the Outer City buildings had Victorian architecture, which meant poor insulation, a lack of plumbing, little to no lighting, and no heat sources beyond some candles and fireplaces. Advanced technology was non-existent in everyday life, not just the dark, blackened buildings that resembled something from a gothic nightmare. People used candles and oil lamps, and there was no Sin-powered electricity to fuel modern technology.

Believe it or not, the bad weather conditions and terrible societal factors were the least of the Commoner's worries. Every person sentenced to the sixth floor would be homed somewhere in the outer city with a group of miserable people like themselves. Unspeakable things happened in the dark shared rooms, and there was no justice for these wicked men and women who lived existences worse than death. If they managed to ignore the biting cold, howls of wind, and screams of their roommates, they'd sleep just a few hours before they needed to wake up and visit the Torture Rooms, where every citizen was required to go. Each day, demons would randomly select a Torture Room for the Commoners, and depending on their crimes when they were alive, the time to stay inside would vary.

There were five Torture Rooms: The Shadow Caves, an endless network of caves filled with terrifying illusions, where seconds felt like hours and hours felt like days, and reality became blurred with shadows and dreams. There was also the Fire Bridge, an endless climb across molten lava. There was no end in sight, the metal floors burned the feet of whoever crossed, and the bubbling lava would spray burning, toxic gasses, hot ash which burned lungs, and terrible heat that dried out eyeballs and throats. Luckily the Commoners of Hell had such good healing because they'd often leave the Fire Bridge with second-degree burns, blackened skin, and most of their hair missing.

The Ice Coffins were preferable to most Torture Rooms, but lying in a cloudy coffin made of unbreakable ice for hours of the day wasn't a joy to those unlucky enough to have this Torture room chosen for them. Then there was what some considered the worst Torture Room, more terrible than the Fire Bridge. This room was the Poison Buffet, where demons forced Commoners to eat plates of toxic and rotting food. It didn't matter if they vomited the inedible meal because they couldn't leave until their dish was clean. Lastly, there was the Blood Sacrifice Room. This room was a place of mental anguish that forced the person inside to choose between torturing a life-like copy of someone they once loved or committing suicide. Although the people on the sixth floor were known for their cruel and unusually terrible behavior, there was a surprising number who'd choose to commit suicide. This strange event was because they had loved at least one person in their previous lifetimes and couldn't bring themselves to torture them or hear their screams and cries for mercy.

Commoners from the Outer City would spend a third of their time at home sleeping alongside their foster family, a third of their time in a designated Torture Room, and the final third working whatever job the demons gave so they could provide themselves with necessities. If the Commoners of the Overworld knew about this miserable existence, they'd probably say it was deserved and would feel much better about their afterlife.

Not including those poor souls from the Outer City, there were also the demons who ran the show and occupied the Middle City, which was just as technologically advanced as the Over World. It was a very fulfilling place filled with luxuries those on the outside could only dream of having, and it showed how much the ruler of the sixth floor appreciated the entire race of horned, scaly-skinned beings.

Last but not least, a small society of rare but untrustworthy humans occupied the Inner City of Astray. Known as the Ultimate Sinners, or Satan's Chosen, these people were former Commoners of the Outer City who learned how to Sin and passed the Sin Assessment on the sixth floor. As a reward, they were no longer required to live in the Outer City, work terrible jobs, or have daily visits to the Torture Rooms. Instead, the demons rewarded them by giving them a home in the Inner City with other Sinners like them. The only other way to make it to the Inner City was to be born there, a birthright that allowed them the freedom to avoid most tortures and cruel measures.

It was rare, but not unusual, for someone born in the Outer City to change their fate, pass the Sin Assessment, and move to the Inner City. However, it was even more unheard of for an Inner City Sinner to catch the attention of Dragon's Roost. This mystical floating fortress was the crowning jewel of the sixth floor and was home to the sixth Prince of Hell, with a reputation as the most powerful Sinner.

No one knew her real name, so she was known as Her Highness, the Queen of Darkness, the Heaven Sealer, Mother of Demons, or the Harbinger of Chaos. It had been thousands of years since the Queen of Darkness took notice of Astray news. She was known for keeping to herself while her minions quietly influenced the events of Hell from her floating fortress, which looked like a magnificently evil castle. Its turrets were spiked, its stone gargoyles seemed alive, and the entire architecture had a twisted, cruel appearance that made it seem like something out of a nightmare.

The royal fortress floated beneath the smog-filled atmosphere and was visible anywhere in Astray. Commoners shared rumors of actual dragons living somewhere inside the castle, but the only people who could ever verify these stories were close confidants of the Queen or already dead. On the subject of rumors, one had been making its rounds for weeks, and even the emancipated, tortured Commoners couldn't stop themselves from talking about it.

According to the rumors, there was recently a Commoner from the Outer City who'd not only passed the notoriously grueling Sin Assessment with flying colors and esteemed admiration, but that individual had reportedly been one of the most talented human youths to attempt the test. Supposedly, this person was so gifted they'd even caught the attention of the Queen of Darkness. Now, if the rumor going around was crazy, more unbelievable was the part where Her Highness had taken this human as her disciple, which could only mean one thing: a new Sin Lord.

The Queen of Darkness was known to be husbandless, childless, loveless, and only occasionally taking in disciples who were the most talented youths among demons and training them in the ways of Sin beyond anything they'd learn anywhere else. When the Queen took a disciple, it was to add to her most loyal followers, a group of gifted demons known as the Sin Lords, each representing one of the Cardinal Sins. These lords possessed a house in the Inner City and had a personal army, were the most respected people in the entire dimension, and some worshiped as much as a Prince of Hell. So, the Commoners of the Outer City deeply questioned the integrity of a rumor that the Queen was training a lowly human to become a Sin Lord.

Above the miserable city of Astray, Dragon's Roost stood unmoving, terrifying, and containing a presence beyond any monster. There weren't many guards patrolling its walls, landing, or courtyards, but the few who did were some of the most elite Sinners in Hell, demons who held powers that most humans would never know.

The atmosphere of Dragon's roost was always heavy and deathly quiet. The demons spoke in low tones because they were afraid of disrupting Her Majesty, and the mood was so cold and sour that no one else enjoyed breathing, let alone conversing or staying there for long. Princes of Hell, Diplomats, guards changing patrol, servants, a select few demons from Middle City, and occasionally Inner City Sinners would all come and bask in the pressuring aura of the imperial halls of Dragon's Roost. However, all of them seemed miserable to be there, and none could wear a smile on their face like the Sin Lords would when they visited.

On that day, a well-known Sin Lord materialized out of thin air and stepped onto the outside landing. The cold wind blew her palomino-like, long platinum hair, and the smog was subservient before her terrible gaze, with glowing violet eyes and snake-like pupils. Her pale skin looked like it belonged to a beautiful albino snake, and the two horns protruding from her forehead were glossy, awe-inspiring, and demonstrated to all that she was a demon of the highest order.

"Lady Shifrah," said a demon on guard, who was careful not to eye the visitor's bountiful cleavage, like two full moons nearly bursting from the leathery straps which covered her nipples and nothing else. This Sin Lord was the weakest of the seven but known to have the most vicious and unpredictable temper, and her victims were on record that ogling the Sin Lord of Lust was a one-way ticket to death or permanent blindness if she was in a good mood. It was difficult for those unaware of her reputation to sneak a peak and live to tell the tale. Those who glanced at her without suffering death or mutilation told stories of a terrifyingly divine and most beautiful creature. Lady Shifrah was a demonic woman with a body known as man's folly and a face whose beauty reached perfection. Dainty clothing covered her private parts and left everything else open to worship, but like Medusa, those who looked would rarely have the chance to look again.

"Excuse me," she spoke in a demonic tongue, but her voice sounded between a lover's song and a poisonous flower. Lady Shifrah explained her business to no one because every demon, rat, and servant knew her face, temper, and cruel nature. The guards moved aside, never looking at anything but her pale bare feet, bejeweled in platinum chains and shimmering gemstones that rattled in rhythm as she stepped beyond the gates and into the castle courtyard.

"Lady Shifrah," every single servant replied in her language, bowed, and stared at the ground as she passed, and even the courtyard crows were careful not to stare for too long. Each step the lady took contained an awe-inspiring amount of power and perfection, and she seemed to glide across the stone floors like she was skating across an ice rink. She made her way down a set of marble stairs and past many stone corridors until she reached the main entrance hall, where two massive golden doors stood proud and closed. Beyond those doors contained an ancient and terrifying monster that Lady Shifrah called teacher and Queen.

"Enter," the voice was both quiet and loud. It seemed to have power because the doors swung open as soon as the words reached Lady Shifrah's pointed ears. The beautiful Sin Lord of Lust smiled as the power radiated across her skin. Two fanged teeth protruded from her pink lips, which she licked because the force from her Queen's voice turned her on.

"My Queen," Lady Shifrah entered the dark throne room. There was nothing but exquisitely carved architecture painted black and a massive throne carved from the bone of a giant claw situated at the end of the room. However, the woman seated on the throne wasn't visible because a curtain of shadow blocked her figure from view. "I'm sorry to disturb you," Lady Shifrah bowed, and it was a mark of how much respect she had for the Queen because the Sin Lord of Lust wouldn't lower her head for anyone else in all of Hell: not the Princes of Hell, and certainly not the other Sin Lords.

"I know why you've come. I can see that you are also interested in the rumors swirling around Astray. So, ask your question, my second-youngest disciple," her words all but confirmed the rumors were true.

"My Queen. The Sin Lord of Wrath retired just last year. I can't begin to fathom how you found his replacement already, and the rumors that reached my ears suggest you chose human filth from the Outer City, no less. Please, my Queen. Enlighten me."

"I owe you no explanation," the coldness of the Queen of Darkness' voice could dim lights, snuff out flames, and freeze the Earth into an Ice age. Lady Shifrah shivered and bowed her head in subservience. She had come close to offending her monarch.

"You do not, Your Highness. I only wish to understand how you chose my newest colleague and am curious about what powers he or she possessed to impress you."

"Fear not, my dearest, Shifrah Moonskin. I shall enlighten you and answer your questions. Never mistake my love as an excuse to disrespect or question my judgment. Do you understand?"

"I do," Lady Shifrah blushed from being told the Queen loved her.

"Good. Ajaxus Blackthorn, Sin Lord of Wrath, is being replaced by a young human who recently partook in and passed the Sin Assessment. He's a late bloomer, but his gifts with Sin are elite, even by your standards. He broke your record for the fastest completion time. Though, you did it at a much younger age. Still, he's only been Sinning for less than two years, and he's discovered his Original Sin and begun learning about True Sin."

"Unbelievable," Lady Shifrah wasn't questioning the Queen but was open-mouthed and had trouble imagining a human youth that could break Sin Assessment records after only Sinning for a year or two. "What's his name and story?"

"His new name is Azrael Shadow, and you should already know his story. After all, you were the one who sent him to Hell."

"Azrael Shadow," the name was imposing and spectacular. The Queen of Darkness gave all her Sin Lords a new name. "I don't understand. I sent him to Hell?"

"Do not tell me your memory is already failing you. You're only twenty years old and too young to forget events from two years ago. However, I'll remind you of a mission to Earth I sent you on."

"You don't mean the black-haired boy?" Lady Shifrah recalled the youth who died in a fiery crash of her devices. She humiliated herself by going to the world of lowly humans, and she also used her powers to kill a young man and was forced to influence a demon judge. The young man's sentence needed to be so that he'd end up in the Underworld, all this at the behest of her Queen. It was the strangest task the Queen had ever given Lady Shifrah, and the Sin Lord of Lust would've scoffed had it not come from Her Highness.

"His former identity is inconsequential and shall not be discussed. His name is Azrael Shadow, a human genius from the Outer City and heir to the Sin Lord of Wrath's title. That's all that matters and all you should ever discuss with anyone. Understood?"

"Of course, Your Majesty. Your secrets will follow me to the grave. May I ask you what's his significance?"

"You may not," The Queen's voice was definitive from behind the black mist that hid her from view. "However, I'll allow you to meet him. I'm having issues with his behavior. The boy is—unruly," if the Queen had ever described anyone else as unruly, they no longer existed. "I want him to take the Hell Challenge as part of his training. Once he's completed the first one, I'll officially bestow him with his title, inheritance, and Dragon's Wrath, just as I did for you when you passed the Overworld's Hell Challenge. However, he's uninterested in leaving his room, and I have yet to find a way to convince him to go."

"You think I can influence him?" Lady Shifrah looked confused. This human wouldn't listen to the Queen of Darkness, the Mother of Demons. How could he possibly answer to one of her loyal subjects instead?

"I don't think any man can resist Shifrah the Succubus, Sin Lord of Lust," the Queen's voice sounded amused. "You don't need to question his background. All that needs to be said is that he's a genius Sinner and handpicked by Ajaxus and me. His room is in the western tower. Go and see for yourself."

"Just over a year ago, you asked me on a mission of the utmost secrecy and importance. Go to Earth, and find a youth by the name of—"

"Don't say that filthy Commoner name!" The Queen's voice drowned Lady Shifrah and made her quiver.

"Find him," Lady Shifrah licked her lips. "Find him, kill him, and make sure he ends up in the Underworld."

"You did as I instructed, and after being sentenced by the judge, the demons brought him to the Outer City, where he received four hours of torture per day and worked in the mines. At some point, he discovered Sin, and by his first year in Hell, he could take the Sin Assessment."

"Four hours?" Shifrah narrowed her brow. "That seems a bit low," most of the people on the sixth floor endured eight hours or more a day. Sometimes the insanity was so bad that they committed suicide for release.

"Just enough to test him, but not enough to break him too early," the Queen sounded like she had some sort of plan, but Lady Shifrah had no idea what it could be.

"Why him?" Lady Shifrah crossed her arms. "You had me kill the boy and make sure he landed in the Underworld. My biggest question is, why?"

"I cannot tell you," said the Queen. "You'll have to trust me because I would never lead you astray."

"I do. I do," said Shifrah, who vehemently nodded while holding a hand over her heart. "I'd give my life for you. I trust you implicitly."

"Good, child. Then ask no more and trust my judgment. Your next mission is to convince Azrael to take the Hell Challenge. I care less about how you do it and more about the results. Do not disappoint me."

"Take care, my Queen. I'll return with good news," Lady Shifrah bowed, turned on the spot, and marched out of the throne room. Only when she was a few hallways away did she let her confusion show on her expression. Two years ago, the Queen had tasked her with killing a random human boy from Earth and sending him to the Underworld. That was enough to raise eyebrows, but she did as the Queen commanded and loyally carried out the mission. It was ridiculous to think that the same human had passed the Sin Assessment of the sixth floor and even crazier to consider he was replacing Ajaxus Blackthorn, the strongest of the Sin Lords. Just what the Hell was going on, and what was Azrael Shadow's real identity?

Shifrah mindlessly walked toward the western tower as she considered the possibilities, but none of them made sense. Then she climbed up a set of spiral stairs as she wondered how she would convince the boy to take the Hell Challenge. Seduce him? Maybe. Torture him? Probably not, though that was her preferred method. Wait. Didn't the boy have a younger brother who the demons sent to the first floor? The Sin Lord of Lust licked her lips as she formulated a plan. She snapped her fingers, and a hell phone appeared from thin air. Shifrah grabbed it and began tapping quickly at the touch screen. First, she pulled open the government database, then typed in her credentials. What was the brother's name? She recollected for a moment until a handsome youth with blonde hair and blue eyes appeared in her mind. 'Jonas Ariel,' she typed.

Shifrah stopped and quickly read over the younger brother's file. It contained all the personal information on Jonas that she could ever want to know: from his favorite color to his favorite porn. She saw nothing out of the ordinary; a fire had left him and his brother orphans, and they had rough upbringings—by Earth standards. Jonas died young, and his file was small and uninteresting. Even the blurb about his time in Hell was sad and pathetic. The boy had been captured on his first day in Hell and sold as a slave to an Outcast.

She almost stopped reading until her pupils widened when she reached the latest remarks about him, written by an official sent to investigate the boy's involvement in the birth and death of a Maldread. "Jonas' real story begins in Little Wrath City. After leaving the Glatorius household, the boy was again captured and made a slave of the Hurts Gang. There he unlocked his Cardinal Sin of Pride and became an undefeated caged fighter. After leading a prison break, witnesses last saw Jonas fighting a baby Maldread. It first appeared that Jonas died, but officials recovered the Maldread's body which had died from asphyxiation due to an enlarged heart organ in its throat—some form of True Sin. Jonas Ariel's body was missing, but we tracked his phone to a mansion belonging to Phillip Glatorius. After clarifying his identity, we followed him for one more day to learn more about how he killed the Maldread—his Original Sin revolves around controlling blood. We tracked him to a slave auction called Dark Fly, and it appears Jonas and his master, a True Sinner named Louie Darnell, Code-named: The Hermit, went on a massacre and killed everyone there. After more research, Dark Fly auctions was the original group that enslaved Jonas Ariel, making the slaughter an act of revenge. Security cameras on the premises recorded bits of conversation, and we believe Jonas is on the run from a Sinner named Layne Harris, Code-named: Black Butcher, a man responsible for ten known massacres, at least five hundred people dead by his hands, and he manages multiple slave auctions in the Outlands. Jonas is currently en route to Liberty City in search of a ticket for the Sineville of the Seas. No more information is needed, and I recommend we put his case away for good. The killing of the Maldread was a lucky chance," Shifrah narrowed her eyes and smirked because she had a plan.

There were two armored demons standing guard outside Azrael's door, and they looked shocked at the sight of Shifrah but quickly looked at the ground before she could cut out their eyes.

"My Lady. Can I help you?" One of the guards sounded quite scared and timid, and he was a True Sinner that had passed a Sin Assessment.

"I have business with Azrael Shadow," her voice was cold and contained none of the politeness she showed the Queen.

"My Lady. Her Highness has instructed me to block anyone from entering this room. Perhaps—ah!" the demon was interrupted, fell to his knees, and began screaming while clutching his face.

"She already granted me permission, you useless goat," Shifrah huffed and kicked him aside. "Do you have an issue with me entering?" She stared daggers at the other guard, who shook his head and stared at the ground with his heart pounding and Death knocking at his door.

"Please, enter. My Lady," he opened the door for her and closed it behind her. With one glance, he could see his screaming partner's eyes had ruptured and were blind. "Quickly, to the infirmary. Perhaps they could save your vision."

Azrael's room was very dark and bitterly cold, and the only source of light and heat came from a majestic fireplace with a large armchair in front of a roaring flame. Shifrah wasn't sure why, but there was something gloomy and spooky about the room, and she could tell the person she was after was seated in the armchair. However, she could only see his aura of Sin, which was massive, but an expert Sinner knew how to hide his aura, so Azrael Shadow was not.

"Leave. I have no business with you," a deep, husky voice entered Shifrah's ears, and she thought it sounded tired and bored. For a moment, she felt irritated because never in her life had a human dared speak to her the way Azrael did.

"My name is Shifrah. I'm the Sin Lord of Lust," she used her Sin-infused voice and concentrated on winning his devotion and affection. She wanted him to become her slave and to do her bidding.

"Fuck off," Azrael swirled a glass of wine in his hand, leaned back in his chair, and stared at the flame while paying no attention to the stupefied expression on Lady Shifrah's face. "Did you think your pathetic attempts at seduction would move me? Did the Queen send you? I'm not taking the Hell Challenge. Take me back to the Inner City."

"Her Highness did say you were unruly," Shifrah would've killed anyone else for speaking to her in that tone, but she knew it wasn't an option with Azrael. She already had a devious plan to influence the young man, but she was too confident in her looks and wanted to attempt to seduce him again. There was a reason that Sinners nicknamed her the Succubus. "Would you at least look at me? I'm not leaving that easily, so you might as well say it to my face," Azrael didn't react.

"Shifrah the Succubus. I heard a story that over ten thousand men proposed marriage to you, and you maimed at least half of them," Azrael stayed seated, and there was a hint of mockery in his voice, which annoyed Shifrah.

"I lost count, but that does sound quite accurate. Why settle for scum when I can take whatever I want, have whoever I want, and never listen to anyone else?"

"Fair enough. I already said I wasn't taking the Hell Challenge. You're wasting your time. Go back and tell the Queen to let me go. I have no interest in being her Sin Lord."

"I think you'll change your mind if you face me and have a conversation," Shifrah bit her lip but stayed calm. The red Sin Scars on her pale scaled hands began to glow and were a ruby-like brilliance.

"Idiot. I already know your plot. Shifrah the Succubus is known as the most beautiful woman in existence. However, your appearance means dog shit to me. Seduction is a weak ass tactic," but the Sin Lord of Lust had finally snapped.

"Weak ass tactic? Fine, how's this for a tactic? Take the Hell Challenge, or else I'm going to find Jonas Ariel, brainwash him into becoming my slave and torture him for all eternity until he either dies or loses his mind," Azrael Shadow stood up, and the air in the room went still. He was at least six foot five, wore dark clothing, and had his long black hair tied into a loose ponytail. Shifrah saw the flaming Sin Scars on his hands glowing with such color that they lit up the entire room and illuminated every detail.

"Keep that name out of your mouth," Azrael's voice sounded extremely dangerous and testy, and his body language looked like he was seconds away from ripping Shifrah's throat out. Very slowly, he turned to face her, and she smiled because her new comrade was an absolute hunk. His black eyes were ferocious, his jaw was like steel, and his muscles bulged from beneath his shirt.

"Even more handsome than I recall. Two brothers were born with such good looks. How could I not want to taste both? I should've jumped you after I killed you and sent you packing to the sixth floor," her words caused Azrael to cease his anger, and instead, he furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Are you bullshitting? You killed us?"

"The Queen wanted you dead. As for Jonas, unfortunately, he was collateral damage. You're not still beating yourself up over what you said to him in the courtroom, right, Drake?"

"Drake's dead. I'm Azrael Shadow, and you won't touch him," he raised a finger and pointed at Shifrah. "I'll fucking end you."

"I don't need to do anything," Shifrah was unfazed by the threat as she delightfully led Azrael by the nose. "I just got done looking up his file, and your little brother has been busy. Do you want to know what happened to him after you split?"

"He smartened up, got a job, an apartment, and is living his best afterlife," but Shifrah couldn't contain her snort of laughter.

"Try being captured as a slave for a minor gang and forced to partake in caged fighting," Azrael frowned and stared at her. He couldn't tell if she wasn't lying.

"Where is he?"

"Not telling you," Shifrah smiled, and the tone in her voice was quite playful. She was taking pleasure in the distressed look in Azrael's dark eyes, and the situation made up for the fact her appearance hadn't caused him to react in the slightest.

"Tell me what you know," he took a few steps forward until he was only feet away, and his body towered over her.

"Take the Hell Challenge, and I'll tell you everything."

"I refuse. I'll find another way to learn the truth. Other people around here will have access to the same information as you," Azrael clicked his tongue impatiently.

"What if I told you that baby brother was in danger?"

"Don't fuck with me," he growled. "This is Hell. Everyone's in danger."

"Your little brother's been busy since he got to Hell. He led a grand escape, fought and killed a baby Maldread, led a massacre on a slave auction, and now a True Sinner is hunting him. Oh, that's not to mention he's trying to take the Sin Assessment so that he can take the Hell Challenge and come find you," Shifrah saw the panic in Azrael's eyes. His moment of weakness made a beautiful smile bloom on her face until her two fangs were protruding, and her albino tail was swishing playfully behind her.

"You better not be fucking with me," but Shifrah tossed her hell phone over, and Azrael caught it. He brought it to his nose and began reading the investigation notes on Jonas Ariel. It only took him a minute to finish reading, and he tossed the phone back to her. "Stupid, lousy, little brother," he mumbled angrily. "Of course, that stubborn idiot became a Sinner."

"A pretty good one, by the sound of it. Not many Sinners could kill a baby Maldread. The power of Sin comes naturally to both of you. So, what will you do? A crazed man is after your brother, who'll probably die during his hopeless quest to find you. Are you going to sit here, brooding in your chair? Or are you going to take the Hell Challenge, go to the first floor, and check up on baby bro?" Azrael glared at her but had nothing to say. "If you finish your training as Sin Lord of Wrath, you could bring your brother to the Inner City here in the Underworld, and you'll be able to look after him. The Queen is quite generous to her followers."

"Are you serious? I could bring him here?"

"Normally, no. However, the Queen of Darkness' permission is capable of breaking any rule in Hell," it was a hook, line, and sinker. Shifrah had to hide her Sin Scars because the bullseyes would glow too brightly and might tip off her victory.

"I'm going to kill that idiot. Goddammit, Jo."

"That's if the Black Butcher doesn't kill him first. Maybe he'll die during the Sin Assessment."

"Good luck with that," Azrael shook his head and briefly smirked. It was the first smile he had cracked in years. "Jonas is a little cockroach. You try stepping on him, and he'll just pop back up to annoy you. Fine, I'll take the goddamn Hell Challenge. Once I beat the first one, I'll find him, kick him in his ass, and after that, he's coming to live with me."

"Unfortunately, I'll be coming with you," Shifrah stuck out a slender hand, batted her eyelashes, and smiled victoriously up at Azrael.

"I don't need a sidekick," he glared at her.

"Queen's orders. I'm coming whether you like it or not. Do I need to remind you that I'm the Sin Lord of Lust and one of the most talented demons born in the Middle City?"

"Fine," Azrael's massive hand swallowed hers, and they shook rather aggressively. He was secretly impressed at her grip strength. He let go of her hand and tilted his head. "Earlier, you said you killed me on the Queen's order. Why?" Shifrah shrugged her shoulders in response.

"I've got no idea because Her Highness wouldn't tell me. I thought you'd know."

"I'm just a dude from Earth caught in some conspiracy. Even when I was sent to the Outer City and learned about Sin, I didn't brag about it. I used a pseudonym when I took the Sin Assessment, but the Queen's henchman came for me and forced me to Dragon's Roost. She told me she wanted me to replace Ajaxus or whatever his name was, but I refused. Either way, she wants me in her inner circle, and I have no idea why."

"The Queen of Darkness' inner circle is a great place to be. Trust me. Now, let's find your younger brother. The Prince of Hell of the Overworld is a bit of a dick when it comes to anyone from different floors visiting his domain, so we'll have to play by his rules. Hidden protections prevent monsters like us from traveling to the Overworld and wreaking havoc on everyday people. They just don't know it."

"Then how do we find Jonas? How do I help him? Don't waste my time."

"Easy, big boy. First, we'll head to Sin City and check in at the Sinatorial Palace, the base of government operations in the Overworld. You'll meet the Prince of Hell, and he'll give you a Hell Challenge. Now, here's the good part. When you win a Hell Challenge, you earn the right to visit or live on that floor anytime you want. However, you'll be under strict rules, and violating those rules will mean being banned from visiting. There are strong Sinners from other floors living in the Overworld but keeping quiet because they have to follow strict rules by the Prince of Hell and his government."

"So, If I pass the first Hell Challenge, I'll be allowed to visit Jonas and even live on that floor?"

"That's the idea," Shifrah nodded and blew a kiss up at Azrael, who stuck up his nose in disgust. "It's not that easy. Every challenge is different and intended to push your mental and physical limits to the edge. If the Sin Assessment is a sixty-five percent fail rate, then the Overworld's Hell Challenge is ninety-nine."

"I don't care about those failures. This conversation is over. Let's go."

This marks the end of book one! Thanks so much for reading. I may take a short hiatus to catch up on some of my writing, but I'll let you know for sure. Until then, book two will start on Monday.

Thank you to my Gold Patron, PandaLady12

Tower of Hell: Caged and Confused, Book 1, Chapter 131

Attention! Today's chapter marks the second last chapter of book one, and the story will conclude next week with chapter 132, the epilogue. I just want to say thank you to everyone who has stuck through the story so far, and I appreciate all the comments, love, and support you give me each week. I look forward to writing and publishing book two, and I hope you enjoy it just as much. I plan for it to be longer, with bigger chapters, and much higher-quality writing. Have a great day!

I would love it if everyone reading this note could head to the main page for Tower of Hell, and give a rating/review that represents how you feel about the story. Every rating greatly improves the ranking of the web novel and allows it to be seen by more people. Thank you so much.

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Dark Fly auction house was experiencing organic growth in sales and inventory quality. Their contacts spread like a spider's web throughout all of Sun City, gathering victims from fake jobs like modeling gigs, porn, hospitality, and even construction which were all professions with rampant human trafficking, which Dark Fly benefited from greatly. Then there were the classic social rule breakers: those who got black-out drunk and ended up in a cage, those who did drugs from an untrustworthy dealer, and those who simply were in the wrong place at the wrong time. There were hundreds of ways in Hell to become captured, human trafficked, and enslaved, and Boss James from Dark Fly auction house knew all of them.

With the uptick in inventory numbers, there was also a noticeable increase in product quality. Active men and attractive women were worth the most, and a good worker or hot housemaid fetched the most significant amount of Sin Stones at auction. Lately, James' contacts had been bringing in much better humans: less lazy and more pretty.

Jonas had fetched one of the highest prices in the auction's history, and James quickly realized that he needed more slaves of a much higher quality. The night Jonas and Old Louie arrived at the auction was a special event because of the massive selection of slaves, and potential buyers were coming in from all over Sun City. It could be one of the best auctions that James' had overseen in decades.

Speaking of Boss James, he was pacing the warehouse room in his black leather high-heeled boots while barking orders. He yelled at crying slaves and tried to micromanage his idiot employees, like the head of security, Rick Harris, and his team of bumbling yes-men. None of them were Sinners, but that wasn't surprising because it was hard for big-shot CEOs to hire True Sinners, let alone a small-time black market auction house. However, James was never worried about manpower because he had Sin Scars beneath his black gloves, and the forces watching him from the shadows ensured his protection and that of his business.

James Downy ran Dark Fly longer than he could remember, and there was never an incident of escaped slaves or issues with another organization trying to break in and steal. It would be foolish to try and screw with most black market auction houses because even though they lacked on-base security, each business usually had a much larger Sinner organization behind them. With Dark Fly Auction House, Boss James ran the show, but he paid dues and respects to the liaison representing a much more powerful organization. However, history was about to be changed.

"This is team Zeta. Team Beta, can you hear me? Over," one of the warehouse security's walkie-talkies went off, and the voice behind team Zeta sounded stressed.

"Roger. Beta here. What's the issue? Over."

"Beta, I've got two suspicious people at the door claiming they have an invitation. One is a young man with Sin Scars, and the other is the old healer. Were we expecting him? Over," the security guard representing team Beta looked over and saw James frantically running around while yelling orders. "Let me check with the boss. Over," he stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Boss James. Were you expecting the old healer? Louie or whatever his name is?" James scrunched his eyebrows, and his expression looked like he'd just smelled shit.

"Why do you ask?"

"Team Zeta just radioed in and said the old man and some kid with Sin Scars are waiting at the backdoor and claim you invited them here. What should I do?" Boss James tilted his head in confusion. He knew Old Louie was a Sinner, but why was there someone with him?

"Jesus Christ! We've only got an hour before everyone shows up. Ask them to find out what the old man wants. Also, who's the extra?" Although James had done business with Old Louie plenty of times, he had always called him to the auction, and the old man never once showed up uninvited, and it was even sketchier that he was with a young Sinner. James was a careful person by nature, especially when it came to unknown Sinners.

"Zeta, this is Beta. Boss wants to know the old man's purpose because he never invited him, and the young man's identity. Over," a few moments passed while James and the security guard waited for a reply.

"This is Zeta. The old man claims he's here to introduce his new disciple, also a healer. Over," James' eyebrows stretched up to the sky, and he tilted his head in surprise. It wasn't every day a Sinner took on a student. It was rare for loners like Old Louie to take on disciples, and it occurred much more frequently with large organizations like family clans and businesses. Could it be a trap? James found it unlikely.

"Fine. Let Old Louie and his disciple in, but tell them they've only got five minutes because this auction will start soon. Shut up!" Boss James kicked the nearest metal cage belonging to a sobbing woman. She jumped in shock, and her cries went silent as tears slowly rolled down her cheeks, and she fought to be quiet. "I can't hear anything with this bitch balling in my ear."

"Zeta, this is Beta. Boss says to let them in, but they only have five minutes. Over."

"This should be good," James fixed his hair and straightened his bow tie. Then he beckoned over to a wild-looking, muscular man whose black suit stretched to limits because of his swollen muscles. "Rick! Get over here," Rick, the head of security, glared at his boss and slowly marched over. Standing in front of James, Rick towered over him, but James was unafraid and looked at his massive figure like he was something disgusting and unsightly.

"We've got guests. Greet them with me."

"I know. I have a radio," Rick shook his head, scratched his beard, and pointed at the walkie-talkie attached to his front pocket. "The old geezer and some kid. Whoopty doo."

"Shut up. I don't like strange Sinners showing up uninvited. A fucking Outcast like you wouldn't understand," James' venomous tongue made Rick frown.

"Don't call me that. I've fucking told you not to call me that," Rick's expression went dark, and his knuckles began to crack.

"My apologies," James smirked and beckoned for him to follow. "Let's go," begrudgingly, Rick followed him to the back bay door, which opened electronically. The door opened and revealed Hell's evening sky, which was starting to turn to night, and two people. Old Louie had his arms crossed and was smiling toothily. Next to him was Jonas, but neither James nor Rick recognized him. How could they? The difference between the skinny teen they'd sold to Phillip Glatorius and the imposing young man before them was like Heaven and Hell.

"Good to see you," Old Louie swaggered in and stuck out a dirty hand, which James glared at and ignored.

"Make it quick, old man. Why are you here?" He thoroughly examined Jonas from head to foot and thought he might be one of the most handsome Sinners he'd ever seen. He had long golden hair that twisted and fell to his shoulders, two piercing blue eyes that could momentarily freeze a person, a strong jaw, and a handsome, youthful face that might've belonged to the lead singer of a boy band. On top of that, James could see that Old Louie's disciple was shredded and had two bright red cross-shaped Sin Scars on the back of his hands.

"Always so rude," Old Louie blew a raspberry and pointed a thumb at Jonas. "My new disciple. He's a greenhorn with Sin but still talented enough to heal someone seconds from death. He's only nineteen and almost ready to take the Sin Assessment."

"Unbelievable," Boss James forgot to be rude as he gawked at Jonas. He quickly regained his composure when Rick coughed to get his attention. "My apologies. It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is James Downy, and I'm the auctioneer here at Dark Fly. As your master probably told you, sometimes I receive a product in less than fair condition. In those cases, I usually call your master to come and make them new again. Perhaps, I can make time for you to show me what you're capable of doing. I could always use a healer that doesn't stink so badly."

"My pleasure," Jonas' tone was flat and contained no traces of politeness. "If you have a spare minute, I don't mind showing you an example of what I can do."

"Unfortunately," James ignored the rude tone but kept his smile because it wasn't unusual for young Sinners to be arrogant. 'I don't have anyone who requires healing. However, next time I do, I'll call your master, and you can come and show me your skills."

"What do you mean?" Jonas tilted his head like a confused puppy. "Doesn't he need healing?" He pointed at Rick, who was completely fine.

"Uhm, I don't understand—" just as James was getting impatient, Jonas moved from his spot so quickly that no one in the room had registered it. There was a crunching noise, Jonas' fist hit Rick across the face, and the attack sent the head of security flying backward until his skull cracked off the ground, and he slid across the room before finally coming to a halt. There was complete silence as each person in the room froze in time from shock and disbelief.

"See," Jonas pointed at Rick, who was on the ground and gingerly touching his bloody face and broken nose. His face looked like Jonas had beaten it with a sledgehammer, and Rick could barely breathe as he tried to blink away the pain from one of the strongest attacks he'd ever faced. "That looks like a man who requires healing."

"Old Louie," James' voice was shaking from anger. "You better have a good explanation for this."

"Boss!" A few security guards came too, and they ran over to help Rick off the ground.

"Good explanation?" Old Louie looked at James like he was the dumbest man in Hell. "My disciple is here to heal your man? What the hell explanation do you need?"

"Mother fucker!" Rick's nasally voice boomed across the room, and he pushed away his men who were trying to help him up. "I'll fucking kill you. You're so fucking dead," he steadied himself and began violently marching across the room. There was so much hatred in his expression that Jonas knew for sure Rick was out to murder.

"I'm dead?" Jonas smiled. "No. No. Didn't I tell you I'd come back to kill you?" He ran his fingers through his bangs and pulled them back to reveal his whole face. "I'm a bit sad you don't remember me," neither James nor Rick had any clue who he was. However, behind them stood Rasta, the bespectacled secretary that worked for James. Jonas pulled his bangs back, and she gasped as she realized who he was.

"You're Jonas Ariel," she pointed, and her mouth was agape. "How?" The name instantly brought back memories to both James and Rick. Neither could believe that one of the highest-grossing slaves in their auctions history had returned as a Sinner.

"Funny Guy?" Blood dripped into Rick's open mouth, and he tried to recall the cocky, skinny youth he'd once beaten into submission and pissed all over.

"Not so funny anymore. Right?" Jonas raised an eyebrow. "You've got something on your face," but before Rick could retort, Jonas punched him, and the force was enough to instantly shatter cheekbones while once again sending the head of security across the room like a rag doll. Rick crashed heavily into the side of a slave's cage and screamed in pain as soon as he caught his breath. Old Louie sniggered, Rastia was open-mouthed, and James had a vein throbbing on his handsome face.

"Jonas Ariel. I see you discovered how to Sin. Good for you," James didn't sound very happy at all. His worst nightmare had come true: one of his products had turned into a strong Sinner and returned for revenge. It was the exact reason he'd never tell any of his slaves what Sinners were. "Welcome to the club," very delicately, he removed his black gloves and revealed pale hands with painted nails, and on the back of them were two diamond-shaped Sin Scars that glowed quite proficiently. It was difficult to tell how strong a Sinner was from the appearance of their Sin Scars, but Jonas could tell that James would be a mid-level fighter in one of the gangs of Little Wrath City.

"Cute," said Jonas. "Do you remember one of the last things I said to you? I told you I'd be coming back to kill him," he pointed at Rick. "And you said you'd give me his job?"

"I do," James narrowed his eyes, and his Sin Scars began to glow. "Have you come to take me up on that offer?"

"I'm still going to kill him. But I don't need the job," Jonas looked over and saw that Rick had stopped screaming and was angrily stomping toward him. However, James held up a hand just as Rick looked like he was going to pounce and attack.

"You can't beat him, Idiot," James shook his head.

"Fuck off!" Rick screamed, and there was rage and disbelief in his voice. "I refuse to believe he's a Sinner. I refuse to believe he could beat me in just two years!"

"Jesus Christ," James rolled his eyes. "Rick. You fucked up, and now I've got to clean up your mess. Stop barking and shut the fuck up while I do business."

"Don't tell me what to do!" Rick's face was covered in blood and looked terrifying because Jonas had knocked two of his teeth out.

"Are we going to have a problem, Rick?" James gave him a crazy side-eye. "Do I need to call your brother?" Like a vacuum had just sucked the anger out of Rick, he froze on the spot and stared stupidly at James, and his pupils dilated from fear.

"My brother? Why would you do that?" Although it seemed like James was threatening Rick, it was clear to Jonas that he was also threatening both him and Old Louie too.

"You're not listening to me, and you're about to cause problems for our auction. It's only because of your brother that a useless Outcast like you is working here."

"You wouldn't call him," Rick shook his head. "He scares you too much."

"I'm your boss, and he's mine. You listen to me, or you can listen to him. It's up to you," James didn't sound like he wanted to call Rick's brother, but the threat had made the head of security smarten up.

"Don't call him," Rick ground his teeth and stared daggers at Jonas. "How the fuck did you get Sin Scars?"

"I had to be a bad boy," Jonas crossed his arms and stared into Rick's eyes. "I had to do something very sinful. So, I fucked your mom until my scars showed up," it was such a juvenile response that James could only roll his eyes, but some of the younger slaves who were eavesdropping from their cages went open-mouthed as they quietly chuckled and began routing for Jonas.

"Funny guy," Rick cracked his neck, and there was a twitch in his reddened eye. "I beat you when you were weak, and it looks like you got your revenge. Nice going."

"Exactly," James interrupted before Jonas could say anything. "Rick did treat you very poorly, and you got him back. How about this? I'll give you front-row seats to the auction, and you can pick one of our slaves, and I'll buy it for you. We've got a few fine females for sale tonight or a few strong males if that's your preference," James forced a smile on his face and pointed toward a few cages that held young women who cried and backed into the shadows.

"Very generous," Jonas clicked his tongue and stared at James. "Unfortunately, I don't give a fuck about your auction, nor do I want a slave."

"Then what do you want? Money?" James had a bad feeling, and fear was beginning to creep in as he realized the night wasn't going to go easy for him.

"Money?" Jonas sighed. "No, no. You don't understand, do you? I'm here to kill."

"You cocky fuck," Rick snarled. "You think you're a big shot 'cause you woke up your Sin Scars? Crusader or not, you're just a fucking pebble in an ocean of rocks. You might be stronger than me and this fuck," he nodded at James. "However, you don't want to screw with this auction. You can't afford to screw with this auction."

"It's like my employee said," said James. "You might've come here for revenge, but I don't think that's in the cards for you. My boss, his brother," he nodded at Rick. "He wouldn't be pleased if you killed either of us or disrupted this auction. Trust me, Jonas. His brother isn't a person you want coming after you.

"Big brothers are crazy, right?" Jonas nodded in agreement. "I've got a big brother too. That asshole went and got himself locked up on the sixth floor. If he ever found out someone killed me, he'd probably lose his shit."

"Listen, Jonas," Old Louie interrupted them. "This is your first lesson in the world of Sinners. When a Sinner or a Hellite realizes they can't beat you, they'll likely resort to threatening you with their uncles, brothers, grandfathers, butlers, and dogs. They'll name-drop and hope that it strikes enough fear into you to the point you'll think twice about killing them. It's up to you whether you want to let them live and hope they forgive and forget, or you can kill them and deal with the aftermath. It's a choice you'll have to make throughout your journey."

"I see," Jonas nodded. "It's an intelligent way of surviving. It's always good to fall back on someone stronger and scarier. Unlike me, I don't have anyone I can fall back on. My brother is in another dimension, and you aren't going to help."

"You got that right," Old Louie cackled. "Clean up your mess, 'cause I ain't doing it. However, I'll say this much. I don't want a disciple who's a big pussy. Though, you know that already."

"I do," said Jonas. He noticed Rick subtly tapping his thigh with two fingers. Moments later, the security guards began to shuffle, and Jonas knew they were getting in a better position.

"You're making a big mistake," James licked his dry lips. "My boss doesn't play around. He's a True Sinner, and he'll kill both of you for fun. You'll have killed his little brother and fucked with his business. I'm warning you, Jonas. You'll have nowhere to hide and nowhere to run. He'll find you, and he'll make you beg for reincarnation," his words made Rick subconsciously nod, and there was fear in his eyes.

"Name?" Asked Jonas. "I doubt I've heard of him."

"The Black Butcher," said James. He intentionally said it with a lowered tone. "My boss isn't just some Sun City Sinner. He manages half the slave auctions from here to Liberty City," Jonas scrunched his eyebrows and looked over at Old Louie, who shrugged and picked wax out of his ear. Judging by Old Louie's response, the name wasn't worth mentioning.

"Sounds like a scary guy."

"Terrifying," James shook his head. "I know you want revenge for beating and selling you as a slave, but trust me. It isn't worth it to make an enemy of the Butcher. Take me up on my offer. I'll give you a few thousand Sin Stones, and we can go our separate ways. No harm, no foul."

"This Butcher," Jonas looked over at Rick. "He's a True Sinner?"

"He and I came together from the Inlands," Rick growled while gingerly holding his nose.

"Oh," Jonas put two-and-two together. "You're an Outcast, right?" His words made Rick's face flush with anger and embarrassment. "There's only one reason a person without Sin Scars would come from the Inlands. So, your family gave you the boot and cast you away. Very sad."

"Don't call me an Outcast," Rick shook his head. "I fucking hate that word. Don't say it."

"A Hellite born without the ability to Sin and forsaken to the Outlands is called an Outcast. It's just a word. Why are you getting so offended?" Jonas could barely contain his smile at seeing Rick fume. "Outcast."

"Stand down, Rick," James could see that Rick was seconds from exploding. "You and your men will stand down and return to preparing the auction," he noticed that a lot of the security guards had slowly eased forward, creating a small circle around Jonas and Old Louie. Some of them had swords, some had crossbows with bolts notched, and some had electrical prods in hand. It was more weapons than Jonas had ever seen, and the guards slowly pointed them in his direction. Even Rick took two brass knuckles out from his pockets, which were solid gold and had blood-stained spikes. A bloodthirsty aura permeated the room and caused the hairs on Jonas' neck to stand. He knew the feeling of someone ready to kill and that bloodlust was coming from multiple directions.

"Negotiations are over," said Rick. "He's here to kill both of us, and you're stupid if you think he's going to take anything you offer. The time for talking is over."

"Fuck," James bit his lip but didn't argue because he could tell that Rick was right about Jonas not wanting to negotiate, and he could feel a brawl was seconds away from happening. Slowly, he put his hand into the chest of his pink jacket, and from within, he pulled a shiny knife.

Jonas knew that he was seconds away from being attacked. His hand grabbed the hilt of his dagger, his Sin Scars began to glow, and with one fluid motion, he drew the weapon and sliced his palm.

"Now!" Rick charged, Old Louie jumped out of the way, and James aimed his knife at Jonas' face.

'Flow with Pride,' Jonas ducked, turned on the spot, and opened his palm. Like a hose was inside his hand, crimson blood burst from the wound, and he aimed it at the guards with crossbows. The blood blasted into their faces and mouths and drenched them. 'Now, burn,' just as Jonas kicked off the ground and rolled away from half-a-dozen attacks, there was a terrifying scream as those guards coated in blood began to feel their faces and insides burn like Jonas had sprayed them with acid. His True Sin was much more potent than before, and the attack had incapacitated them and turned the guards into nothing more than people rolling on the ground while shrieking and clutching their faces.

"Surround him!" Rick bellowed, and he clicked his walkie-talkie. "Code Red! All units report to the hangar. Code Red!"

Jonas smiled and knew that he had his work cut out for him. Instead of staying in the open, he began weaving between cages to put some space between him, James, Rick, and the two dozen guards on duty. The security forces contained no Sinners, but trying to survive against trained, twenty-or-so murderous people with weapons wasn't easy, even for Jonas, who planned on downing a few guards before the other dozen showed up. Very quickly, he knocked two unconscious with well-timed punches to the chin and slid under a wheeled cage and out of sight.

"Stupid disciple!" Old Louie's voice came from somewhere in the room. "You've got a dagger in your hand. Kill those guards. KILL!" Jonas had no idea where his master was but knew he wouldn't be offering any help.

"Fuck," Jonas mumbled. He knew that killing was the only way he'd make it out of there alive, and it seemed that Old Louie had calculated it. They were human traffickers and most likely responsible for countless deaths, enslavement, and rape. Jonas reminded himself that they didn't deserve pity, and they had what was coming to them. They were also trying to kill him, and they'd continue their terrible ways if they succeeded. They might've only been yes-men for Rick and James, but they said yes to terrible atrocities against innocent people. Jonas exhaled, channeled his Pride, steadied his heart, and swung his dagger. 'I'm sorry, Drake. I can't be a good boy anymore.' It was almost too easy when he wasn't hesitating and trying to spare their lives. His weapon slashed across their throats so quickly that they hadn't time to realize Jonas had even attacked. Blood spurted outward, and they grasped the wounds in horror and hit their knees while their throats were gurgling blood.

"Good disciple!" Old Louie's voice echoed from the rafters. "Kill them all! They deserve it!"

"They deserve it," Jonas repeated to himself. His thoughts had become quiet, and he was letting his instincts as a Sinner do all the work. He weaved between the guards while easily dodging their attacks like they had done them in slow motion, all while his dagger slashed at throats and stabbed through chest cavities. One by one, Jonas piled up bodies around the cages and eventually stopped counting how many men were dead. Truthfully, he didn't want to think about it. Every single person he killed made his emotions go even more numb, causing him to sink deeper into a depression, and their screams tugged at the empathetic parts of himself, which churned his stomach in protest of his gruesome actions.

"Oh my god," James turned the corner around a wall of caged slaves and forgot to breathe because the sight was so terrible that he wasn't sure it was even real. At least ten dead bodies spread across the walkway, and so much blood leaked from them that the puddles had conjoined and formed one small pond. "Rick!" James shrieked. "Call your men off. Stop chasing him!" The auctioneer frantically ran past the bodies, and his eyes nearly left their sockets when he saw the rest of the reinforcements had their numbers cut in half because Jonas had already killed most of the ones who'd entered.

"Surround me!" Rick shouted. His eyes were manic, and he looked like someone running from death. Less than ten guards were left, and they gratefully stopped chasing Jonas and quickly regrouped with their leader. "Form a circle!" Rick and the remaining guards took a basic formation that gave them full sight of the room. However, Jonas was gone from view. Rick ground his teeth, picked up a crossbow from one of the crying guards lying on the floor, notched it, and began aiming it around to search for Jonas.

Suddenly, Jonas dropped from twenty feet off the rafters. Like a cat, he landed within the encirclement, lunged, swung his dagger, and three guards dropped before the arrow in Rick's crossbow shot out and caught Jonas in the heart.

Rick smiled because he knew the attack was lethal, but Jonas barely flinched, and the young Crusader continued his assault on the group. Within a few seconds, the last of the guards hit the floor, and Jonas was left facing an ashen-faced Rick and James, frozen in fear and unable to move. "Impossible," Rick shook his head in disbelief as Jonas pulled out the arrow embedded in his heart and tossed it aside. "Who the fuck are you!"

"Karma," Jonas shrugged. "You were bound to die at some point. The Universe decided it'd be me who does it," Rick tossed his crossbow aside and swung at his opponent. The spikes on his brass knuckles just missed Jonas, who tilted his head around the attack. Jonas sheathed his dagger and began using his Sin-fueled punches to wildly beat his enemy. Rick couldn't dodge, block, or do anything that would help him win the fight. Jonas was too quick, too powerful, and within moments the head of security was on his knees, semi-conscious and barely breathing. Blood dripped from every orifice, and he knew he was seconds away from death.

"Stop!" James shrieked. "You can't kill him! You can't kill me! The Butcher will fucking hunt you, skin you, rape you, and do it again!"

"Old Louie," Jonas' voice was deep and husky. "What do you think?"

"Kill, bitch!" there was a cackle, and Old Louie appeared from the shadows. He kicked James from behind, and the pink-suited auctioneer cried as he flew forward and landed next to Rick.

"You heard the doctor," Jonas shook his head. "No sparing anyone today."

"Then do it," Rick's voice was barely louder than a whisper. "I won't beg," on his knees, he slowly looked around at all his dead men. Guilt flooded his heart, and although he wasn't a caring person, he did have a soft spot for the men under his command. They had been loyal in life and death.

"Good," said Jonas, and his blood-stained hands gripped Rick's head and chin. With a terrible cracking noise, Jonas snapped Rick's neck.

"No!" James shrieked. "Jonas, please spare me!" He didn't bother fighting because even though he was a Sinner, he didn't have a single prayer of beating the crazed, murderous youth in front of him.

"Please, don't beg," Jonas' voice was emotionless, but his face looked depressed. "I can't let you live."

"No! No! No!" James turned on the spot and tried running away. He crashed into Rastia and pushed her aside, and he tried to run for the exit door. Jonas unsheathed his weapon, put the blade between his two fingers, and with all his might, he tossed it across the room. It sped like a bullet, so loud the slaves in the room could hear it, and it penetrated the back of James' skull so cleanly and with so much force that it pierced right through to the other side and finished its journey by stabbing into the wall. The auctioneer's body slumped to the floor. James Downy's days of human trafficking and selling slaves were over.

"Great throw!" Old Louie's smile was broad, and his eyes were full of happiness as he examined his disciple with great appreciation. "I didn't think you had it in you," bloody corpses littered the room, and the caged slaves hadn't made a peep since the slaughter began because they were too afraid to be next. "Including the auctioneer, the oaf, and security," the old monk counted the dead. "Twenty-five."

"Shut up," Jonas was trying to regulate his emotions, and Old Louie's sarcastic humor was making him ill. "I don't need to know."

"Are you going to cry?" Old Louie patted Jonas on the shoulder. "Throw up, maybe? Perhaps, you should say a prayer and ask for forgiveness."

"I'm fine," Jonas didn't look fine at all. His face was pale, his hands were shaking, and his breathing was erratic because he kept holding his breath.

"Well. Time to finish the job," Old Louie pointed to Rastia. She was on the ground and propped up against a cage wheel. She was hyperventilating while tears streamed down her face and onto her blood-spattered pantsuit.

"Please," she tried to say but was having trouble speaking. "Please don't."

"Why should I let you live?" Jonas approached her, and every pair of eyeballs focused on her fate. "You're just as guilty as your boss."

"I'll change," she choked.

"Maybe. You took a paycheck to traffic, torture, and sell human beings. How does someone like that change?" Jonas asked and hoped for a good answer.

"I don't know," it was her final attempt at life, and she was speechless and unable to reason.

"I'll give you a chance to live. How about that?" Jonas raised an eyebrow, and Rastia slowly nodded her head. "You're going to release every single slave in this building. If none of them take revenge, you live. However, if they decide to kill you, that's your fault."

"But—"

"But nothing," Jonas cut her off. "Everyone in cages better listen up. For one reason or another, your ignorance of Hell is why you ended up caged and confused. People like this woman exist all over the Overworld, and they prey on ignorance and ruthlessly take advantage of anyone who doesn't know the rules of Hell. It happened to me, happened to you, and it will continue to happen all over."

"Very true," Old Louie clapped, and a few slaves nodded in agreement.

"I was like you once. This auction captured me, beat me, and sold me like cattle. I told them I'd come back for revenge, and look what happened," Jonas gestured to the corpses around the room. "Karma comes for all of us, and this is the result when you commit atrocities against humanity. Someone will eventually come and kill you. Don't fucking traffic humans, don't fucking enslave people. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" Jonas screamed, and his Sin-infused voice reverberated across the room, rattled their metal bars, and pierced their eardrums. "Good," he felt much better after yelling and expressing himself. "This piece of shit, Rastia, is going to free you. I won't stop you from having revenge against her. Go." Jonas kicked her foot, and she yelped while fumbling with a key from her jacket pocket. Rastia unlocked the first cage, and the occupant gingerly stepped out.

"Sir, I'm free to go?" It was an emancipated young man with straw-colored hair and freckles on his nose.

"Go ahead. I hope you learned your lesson. Don't fall for petty traps."

"Thank you," the young man bowed his head and sprinted out of the warehouse bay door and into the night. Rastia sighed a breath of relief and opened the next cage. This time a middle-aged woman stepped out, thanked Jonas, and quickly ran away. By the time Rastia had released half the slaves, not one had tried to hurt her, but they all thanked Jonas and beelined straight for the exit. It seemed that freedom was too important to them. If it had been two years ago, Jonas would've also forsaken revenge.

"Very heroic," Old Louie smiled while watching the last few slaves released from their cages and take off into the night. "You took two dozen lives today, but you saved more than that. I guess that makes you even with karma, right?"

"I don't think that's how that works," part of Jonas felt like he had to go on the run because the government or the police would be after him, while the other part knew he was free to murder as much as possible without consequences. Repercussions would come in the form of a True Sinner named Black Butcher, who would be incredibly upset with Jonas for killing his younger brother and ruining his auction operation. "Do I need to worry about this Butcher guy?"

"Oh, him?" Old Louie dug earwax out and wiped it on his shirt. "I've heard a bit about him. He took the Sin Assessment but failed, so technically, he isn't a True Sinner. However, he's one of the most feared men in the Outlands, and you're completely fucked for screwing with him."

"You're such an asshole. Why wouldn't you tell me that before I snapped Rick's neck?" Jonas didn't have the emotional energy to deal with Old Louie's tricks. "You did that on purpose."

"Yeah, I did. I want you to experience first-hand what it's like to have an angry True Sinner coming after you for killing their family members. It's bound to happen more than once. When you fuck with Hellites in Sin City, you can bet your left nut that their entire organization or clan will want your head," Jonas sighed and watched Rastia open the last cage. A large man stepped outside, looked hesitant at Jonas, and then glared at the bespectacled woman with eyes full of hate. Rastia stared at him rather nervously and tried to take a step backward, but the man's hand shot forward and tightly grabbed her throat.

"Fucking bitch," he lifted her into the air and squeezed as hard as he could. She grabbed his arm and tried to struggle while her dangling feet spasmed and kicked as she tried to breathe. "You don't care if I kill her?" The man's voice was very polite when speaking to Jonas.

"Do whatever you want," Jonas watched her struggle but didn't have much pity for her. It was similar to her lack of empathy two years ago when she watched Jonas sold as a slave.

"That's unfortunate," Old Louie clicked his tongue. "He was the last slave left. One more, and she would've been home free. Too bad."

"Maybe someone will show her pity in her next life," Jonas shook his head as he watched her continue to struggle until her head began to droop, and the gagging noises stopped. After a few more seconds of tense choking, Rastia stopped moving, and her killer dropped her corpse, kicked it, and walked away.

"Thanks, kid," said the man. "I owe you one."

"Don't mention it. I better not hear that you're causing trouble. I'll do you the same way you did her."

"I know you will. I'll keep my nose clean," the man nodded and disappeared behind the corner.

"Well," Old Louie shrugged. "Everything here is on camera," he pointed to the many security cameras mounted over the walls and ceilings. "Black Butcher will be able to see your face and hear our conversation too. He'll know I'm taking you, Jonas Ariel, to Liberty City."

"Jesus Christ! Do you ever stop causing problems for me?" Jonas couldn't believe Old Louie would leave a direct trail for the Butcher to follow. "You want this man to find me, don't you?"

"Of course. The next time the Butcher calls James, he'll get a voicemail about him being dead. Then, he'll make his way here, check the video footage and see everything that happened. So, the sooner we leave, the better."

"Whatever," Jonas looked at Rastia one last time and then turned to leave. "I assume we're taking my car?"

"Obviously. I don't have a car. Did you want your little dagger back?" Old Louie pointed at the knife embedded in the wall across the room. Jonas shook his head.

"That knife was sentimental but impractical. I need to learn how to use a bigger weapon. Maybe a sword or something."

"No problem. Master will teach you the way of the sword," Old Louie cackled, but Jonas ignored his boasting.

They stepped through the slaughter, left out the bay doors, and made their way across the street and to Jonas' Cerberus Shadow, still parked between two empty rigs.

Jonas sat in the driver seat, connected his phone to the dash, and waited for Old Louie to get in.

"Where are we headed?" Jonas opened his GPS application.

"Far," said Old Louie. "Grandview Hotel, Liberty City. It's about a week's drive from here."

"Fuck," Jonas rolled his eyes. "Do you think I've got money to stay at a hotel for three months?"

"I saw the text; that Glatorius sent you a few thousand. Don't be cheap. Grandview will be a nice place to stay while we continue your training, find you a golden ticket, and deal with the Black Butcher situation."

"Which you've assured he's coming after me," Jonas typed in the address and pulled out of the parking lot and onto the quiet main road.

"It's all part of your training. I swear. Hell, maybe that asshole can help us get a golden ticket. It isn't unlikely for someone to fail the test and try again a few years later. Be grateful I avoided blabbing about where we'd be staying in Liberty City. I want him to work for your life," Old Louie chuckled, reclined his seat, took off his moldy knock-off Air Jordans to reveal old gross socks, and rested his smelly feet on the dashboard. "The next phase of your training went very well. The first part was getting revenge on the people who did you dirty. The second part was finally getting over your no-killing policy and massacring a bunch of assholes who wanted to kill you first. Now I've got to get you ready for the Sin Assessment. I'm not going to lie, three months isn't a lot of time, and you're objectively better off taking the test next year. However, I think the time crunch will help with your training, and although you'll be a bit behind the others, I think you'll at least be able to survive the test even if you fail."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Jonas turned off the road he was on and merged onto an empty expressway. It was a week's journey from Sun City to Liberty City, and he knew it would be a long drive sharing a car with someone as stinky and annoying as his master.

"Anytime, kid. Say, you want to stop for a burger?" Old Louie pointed at an advert for Burger Monster.

"Fuck you, old bastard," he was getting as far away from Sun City as fast as he could and continued driving until they finally passed a sign that told them they'd left city limits. With the fresh night sky hovering above the horizon, Jonas Ariel was on his next journey to find and board the Sineville of the Seas.

Thank you to my Gold Patron, PandaLady12

Tower of Hell: Caged and Confused, Book 1, Chapter 130

"Oh, Jonas. I'm glad you're finally awake. I've got a big surprise for everyone," he beckoned them. "Follow me," they turned to look at each other and got up to follow him. Phillip led them outside the house and onto the massive driveway, where they were shocked to find ten brand-new vehicles, all black and shimmering under Hell's red sky. "I finally got everyone's Cerberus Shadow ready, one for each of you."

"Me too?" Jonas asked.

"Of course, you too. Without you, I wouldn't have the opportunities you've offered me. The things I'm giving you are a drop in the bucket compared to what I'll make in the next ten years. This one's yours," Phillip pointed at a car. "Everyone can help themselves."

"I don't have a driver's license," Jonas was grinning while admiring the car that Phillip had pointed out. He opened the driver-side door, and a new car smell wafted into his nostrils. The interior was slick, decorated with black fabrics, and brand new.

"You don't need a license to drive in Hell. Just be rich, or be a Sinner. If the car breaks down, call a tow truck. You do know how to drive, right?" Jonas nodded. He had gotten his beginner license before he died, and Drake had been the one to teach him how. "Open the trunk," Jonas reached over and clicked the button which released the hatch to the back of the car. He got out and noticed a large black suitcase inside the trunk.

"What's all this?" Jonas unzipped the case and found it was full of clothing and toiletries.

"Just some clothes and stuff for when you're on the road. It's nothing. Mr. Ken helped pick it out."

"You're the best. Did you know that?" Jonas couldn't contain his excitement, and he hugged Phillip Glatorius, who chuckled and patted him on the back.

"I never thought I'd have a car," Jonas closed the trunk and thought of his brother's black mustang. He'd always hoped he'd inherit it.

"Well, you'll need something reliable to get you to wherever the Sineville of the Seas is," said Phillip. "You can connect it to your hell phone too. You don't need keys to turn it over.

"I'll mess around with it before I go. What if someone tries to steal it?"

"You'll get a phone notification, then you can shut the vehicle down remotely and track its location," Philip turned the vehicle off with his phone and began clicking buttons. Then, Jonas got a notification.

'Phillip Glatorius is trying to transfer you ownership of a 2020 Cerberus Shadow. Click to accept this vehicle. You can access information about this vehicle under Ownership and Assets. If you decline ownership, you can mute Phillip Glatorius if you think this number is spam,' Jonas clicked the accept button.

"These phones are handy devices," said Phillip. "There's still a lot for you to discover about them, but I suppose your master will inform you. Congratulations, the car is now in your name, and you should be able to control it under the Ownership and Assets application," Phillip stepped back and raised his voice. "I'll transfer ownership of these vehicles to you after Jonas leaves, and you'll all have new apartments within a few days."

"No rush," Johnson came over while wearing a big smile. "I can wait a few more days. It's not easy getting a bunch of apartments and vehicles prepared in only a few days."

"The building you'll all be staying in is close by, but the apartment rooms needed renovation because no one has stayed in them for some time. Yuki, the building we discussed will still need a few more weeks," Yuki nodded as if this wasn't out of her expectations.

"I trust you, Phillip," Jonas nodded toward the house. "Let's head inside for a couple of drinks and maybe some dinner."

They managed to peel themselves away from the excitement of the new vehicles and followed Jonas back into the house. People were still full from lunch, but staying in the Glatorius household meant the guests would spend most of their time in the dining room eating massive quantities of food or upstairs sleeping it off. Staying at their mansion was a blessing filled with food, safety, and endless opportunities, and Jonas walked away from them twice.

The day passed just as it usually did, with Mr. Ken bringing them drinks, smokes, and anything else they wished for while the rest of the staff prepared a grand feast. Jonas wasn't trying to get too drunk because he needed a clear mind for his later business. He checked his phone and noticed the hour was closer to five. When they finished dessert, the hour was close to six. After a few games of pool in the game room, the hour was close to seven.

"Almost time," Jonas felt a bit of anxiety. "I'll pack up the rest of my clothes and stuff and put them in the car," this sentiment didn't last long because nearly everything he owned was already in his new black suitcase. He closed the trunk of his car, pulled out his hell phone, and found Old Louie's contact. "Heading out soon. Where are we meeting?"

Jonas ashed his cigarette and looked back toward the mansion. He could see his friends through the window of the game room. They were laughing, drinking, and having a great time, and Jonas felt it might be okay to leave them as they were. He looked over at this car and contemplated leaving without saying goodbye. No, he needed to face the music and deal with it pridefully. Jonas was proud of his friendships and everything they had been through together. It would be a disgrace to his Sin if he'd just left like a coward. His phone dinged, and he read a text message from Old Louie.

"The auction is at four-two-five Tress Crossing. Meet me across the street, where all the rigs are parked. See you soon, stupid disciple."

Jonas shook his head and slid his phone back into his pocket. He flicked his cigarette and headed back inside; he knew it was time for goodbyes.

"I'm leaving," when Jonas entered the game room, he spoke, and the sounds of life and laughter died out immediately. The smiles on the faces of his friend froze, and some turned to frowns.

"Already?" Asked Simon. "You still have some more time," Jonas shook his head.

"I told Old Louie I'd meet him at eight. It's nearly a thirty-minute drive. I don't have long to say my goodbyes and hit the road," Jonas first approached the couch where Phillip and Amberlee were sitting. "You two are my greatest benefactors, and it's the luck of a lifetime that I got to meet you in my afterlife. Thank you so much for everything you've done for me, and I appreciate you coming to help us in our time of need, providing for us, and offering everyone the means to survive," Jonas stretched his hand out, and Phillip took it.

"It was my pleasure, Jonas. Your friends will be safe here and always have a place to stay should they need it. I wish you luck in your journey to find your brother. Here," he pulled out something from his pocket and put it into Jonas' hand. "This is for you."

"What's this?" Jonas pulled his hand away and examined the object. It was a round scarlet medallion engraved with the letter G and a boar's head.

"That's the Glatorius family emblem. All the primary members carry one. I can't guarantee it will be of any use, but it could come in use when you've reached the Inlands. I thought it would be better in your hands than mine."

"Thank you, Phillip. Are you sure I can have this?"

"Amberlee has one for you too. We don't need them anymore," Amberlee nodded, pulled out a similar-looking medallion, and passed it to Jonas. It was blue, engraved with the letter T, and a large cruise ship.

"Our families are feared by many, so if you flash the emblem, you might be able to save yourself. I wouldn't abuse that power, though. If the family finds out someone is impersonating them, they won't be happy," Amberlee gave Jonas a solemn look. "Please be careful."

"I'll try," Jonas chuckled. He knew it would be impossible to stay safe when he was trying to become a True Sinner. He stuck out his hand and felt Amberlee's delicate fingers wrap between his. "Goodbye, Amberlee. Thank you for everything," he pocketed his two medallions and made for the billiard table, where Ralph, Pete, and Bannji were watching him intently. "Bannji. It sucks we didn't get to hang out more, but I appreciate you switching to our side, and I hope you find your family. Good luck with everything," Jonas held out his hand, and Bannji shook it.

"No problem, boss. It was my pleasure. I wish you luck in your mission to become a True Sinner and to find your big brother."

"Petey," said Jonas.

"Cracker Jack," Pete gave a toothy smile. "Save the big goodbye. You're my dawg, and I appreciate everything you've done for me. If you need anything, call me, and I'll find a way to help you," the two of them pounded knuckles.

"It's the same for me," Ralph looked down at Jonas. "I'll help you in any way I can. Thank you for everything you've done for me. Good luck, Jo," he held out a massive fist, and Jonas pounded it.

"Take care of each other. I'm happy I got to know you, Ralph," Jonas exhaled and saw the table where Theo and Yuki were seated.

"Same here," he smiled.

"Our turn?" Theo smiled as he watched Jonas come over. "I don't need a big goodbye speech either. Thank you for teaching me and helping me survive the Hurts gang. I hope you find the Sin Assessment and you reunite with your brother," Theo stuck out a hand.

"Me too," said Jonas. "Thanks for being courageous," he looked at Yuki and smiled. She was grinning at him, looking as beautiful as ever, and Jonas couldn't help but recall the wonderful moments they had shared. "Good luck with Sunrise Sanctuary. I can't wait to come back and see it. Thanks for coming up with the escape plan."

"It was all you," Yuki shook her head. "I'd still be down there if it wasn't for you. I'll see you when you return. Okay?" She got up from her spot and gave Jonas a quick hug and kiss. "Goodbye."

"Bye-bye," Jonas whispered and let go of her. "Who's next?" He saw Johnson, Simon, and Felicia sitting on a couch nearby. "Felicia, I'm sorry we didn't get to spend more time together. I hope you take care of Simon, and I promise that if I find Annie before she turns eighteen, I'll personally send her right to you."

"You're such a sweet kid," Felicia smiled and shook his hand. "Thank you for saving my husband and reuniting us. Our family owes you a debt that we can never repay."

"So, never repay it then," Jonas smiled and turned to Johnson. "Erik, you bastard. Hug me, and we'll call it even," Johnson smirked, got up from the couch, and embraced his dear brother. A second later and they felt Simon join them for a group hug.

"I love you, boys," Jonas felt his heart tighten with sadness. "I'd die for both of you."

"Live for me," Simon pulled apart and patted Jonas on the shoulder. "Become a Sinner, find Drake, and then live a good long eternity. Come and visit me whenever you can. You'll always be my little brother."

"Fuck up as many of those little asshole Hellites as you can," Johnson pulled apart, and his eyes reddened. "Show them that Commoners aren't their playthings."

"Will do," Jonas dried his watering eyes and cleared his throat. "Alright. That's all the goodbyes I've got in me. You've got my number, so feel free to text or call me anytime. I'm leaving now."

"Drive safe, buddy," said Simon. "Let us know when you've hit the road."

"When you get to the auction house, I hope your decision is one you can stand by," Johnson gave Jonas a knowing look. "Make a choice that Jonas Ariel would be proud of."

"Sounds good to me," Jonas turned on the spot and began walking back toward the exit. "Take care of each other. Don't bother walking me to my car," he heard them shuffle and stop. The game room door closed before any of them could say anything else, and they watched him disappear from view, only to reappear moments later from the game room window that overlooked the parking lot.

Jonas felt quite sad as he tried to contain his emotions. He took the driver seat in his vehicle, closed the door, and took a few steadying breaths. There was a spot on the dashboard for his hell phone to be mounted. After a few minutes, Jonas figured out how to activate his GPS, which he programmed to lead him to the auction house. It had been a long time since he'd driven a vehicle, but the Cerberus Shadow was such a nice drive that it made him feel like he'd been doing it for years. His foot pushed down the brake, and his hand switched the gear into drive. Then he slowly creeped out of the massive parking lot, turned down the driveway, and vanished out of sight.

The roads were virtually empty, and his car caught attention everywhere he went. Jonas drove for nearly twenty minutes before he got some understanding of how the streets worked. There weren't many signs or streetlights, so he had to be careful of pedestrians crossing the road, but whenever he thought someone might try crossing in front of him, he noticed the panic in their expressions as they would quickly back off. It seemed in Hell that vehicles had the right-of-way. Jonas noticed a lack of a gas gauge, which meant the car had some renewable energy source—technology companies on Earth would kill to have.

By the time he was five minutes away, Jonas had seen four rigs pulling cargo, a limo, and one other sports vehicle. It felt strange for the roads to be so dead during daylight, but he had yet to drive on the highways or main roads, so he assumed they would be much busier.

Jonas actively ignored the sad thoughts about his friends, and he focused on staying alert at the wheel because he was nervous about crashing his brand-new car. Thankfully, he managed to reach his destination. He hadn't noticed it before, but the Dark Fly auction house was inconspicuous from the outside and appeared like a big industrial warehouse. A metal fence surrounded most of the property, and security guards in black suits guarded the entrances and exits.

Across the street from the auction, Jonas pulled into a big parking lot filled with empty rigs and a couple of storage units. Very slowly, he drove his car between two rigs, and they obscured him from the road. Jonas parked the car, rolled down his window, and lit a cigarette. His phone went off, and he saw a notification reminding him of his appointment with Old Louie, and two minutes later, he received another message from his bank. Phillip Glatorius had transferred him seven thousand Sin Stones, one thousand for each Sinner Jonas had brought him. The transfer only had one message.

"Good luck, Jonas. I knew you'd decline money, so I waited til you left," Jonas smiled and shook his head. If he ever had the means to repay Phillip or Amberlee, he'd do whatever it took. Hell was blessed to have those two.

"Nice ride," a raspy voice shocked Jonas and made his heart leap because he hadn't heard or noticed anyone approaching him. He turned his head and saw the familiar dirty face of Old Louie, who stood outside the driver's window while wearing a toothy grin.

"Old bastard," Jonas shook his head and blew smoke into Old Louie's face. "We need to talk."

"We do," the old man chuckled and made his way to the passenger door, opened it up, and took a seat. He smelled like Little Wrath City, and the scent of swamp and body odor assailed Jonas' nostrils and stained the car seats. The two stared at each other for a moment, both interested in the other's appearance. Old Louie wasn't as old as Jonas remembered, and the sunlight reflected the details of his face that the dim lights of Little Wrath City hadn't illuminated. Jonas had mistaken the wrinkles and found they were just stress lines filled with dirt and oils. He'd once thought Old Louie had long gray hair, but it was filthy ash-blonde hair. Jonas had once considered the old sewer rat ugly and disfigured but found traces of handsomeness behind his dirty, unkempt features: a strong jaw, high cheekbones, and a straight nose.

"You're different from what I remember," Jonas watched as Old Louie grabbed a cigarette from the pack on the dash and lit it using his thumb.

"How so?" Old Louie exhaled smoke and smiled broadly, revealing his yellowing mossy teeth. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

"Pretty is not a word I'd use to describe you. I always wondered why you looked so old because people aren't supposed to age that much in Hell. Now that I got a better look, I noticed you're only middle-aged."

"Thank you," Old Louie gave an expression of flattery. "You're not too bad yourself either, John."

"So. Let me get this straight. You sold me to the Hurts gang as part of my training, and I agreed to it, which means I can't be mad at you for all the bad stuff that happened to me?"

"Great!" Old Louie chuckled and ashed his cigarette out the window. "I figured if you could survive a few years of bullshit and make your way back to me, that would mean our karmic ties were real, and I should take your training seriously as my first disciple."

"I want to believe you; however, there's one thing that doesn't make sense to me."

"The light may be nice and bright," Old Louie glared at the dashboard. "That doesn't mean we should stare directly at it. We might just get burned," and his tone was serious. Jonas didn't need to decipher the cryptic words to know that Old Louie was telling him not to talk about the Man of Light.

"Fine. What can you tell me?"

"We're all just pawns in someone else's chess game. But that doesn't matter because it's your choice how to live in your afterlife," but Jonas' temper was steadily rising. It wasn't necessarily Old Louie who was irritating him, but the secrecy around the Man of Light was driving Jonas to insanity.

"Old Louie!" Jonas raised his voice. "Who is the Man of Light?" For a moment, both stared at each other while waiting for something terrible to happen. Nothing did, but there was an eerie feeling inside the car as if someone or something was watching them.

"Some things are better left unsaid, Jonas," Old Louie wasn't laughing, smirking, or being himself. Instead, his voice was tense and testy. "I'll tell you about Sinners or the Sin Assessment, but leave that subject alone, please."

"Who is the Man of Light?" Jonas ignored Old Louie's pleading.

"A powerful being capable of roasting both of us like two chickens in a black oven. Do you want to know more about the Man of Light? I can't tell you because he doesn't want me to. Do you understand?" Old Louie sounded angry and was grinding his teeth. "So stop asking."

"He won't hurt me," Jonas chuckled. "He needs me for something. Pride and I figured out as much. We only had two questions: what does he need me for, and how do you know him?"

"I don't know the answer to the first question. Truly," Old Louie turned to face Jonas, and his expression was full of fear and stress. "I'll answer the second question, but after I do, promise me you won't ask anything else about him."

"Fine. I promise."

"The Man of Light is someone I knew in the past. He's tremendously mysterious and powerful and knows about events; past, present, and future."

"So, he's God?"

"Not at all. In a time long past, the Man of Light was a great King, and I was his loyal pupil. It's ancient history; I don't want to dredge it up because it doesn't matter anymore. The modern world doesn't care about the old days, and I'm a different person than I was back then. His kingdom is gone, and now he roams Hell like a ghost, unknown by nearly everyone. There are only a handful of us left who remember him and realize he's still alive. What does my old King want with you or me? He wants me to train you as a Sinner, and that's all I know," Old Louie tossed his cigarette and lit a new one. There was a finality in his tone that told Jonas he'd pushed the old quack to his breaking point until he wouldn't share anything else.

"An old King?" Jonas scrunched his eyebrows because something didn't add up. "Why would some old king need you to train me to be a Sinner? That doesn't make sense."

"Does it matter?" Old Louie shook his head. "Either way, I took you as a disciple out of respect for him. I'm curious about your origins too. No more questions about the Man of Light, as you call him, and from now on, I'll only answer Sinner-related questions. Got it?" Jonas sighed and nodded his head. "Good. Ask your questions, and then I'll tell you how I see things playing out."

"Are you a True Sinner?" Jonas wasn't going to throw away the opportunity to further his knowledge of Sin.

"Obviously. Dummy," Old Louie rolled his eyes.

"You've been to the other floors of Hell?" Asked Jonas.

"All of them, at some point," Old Louie waved off the question as if it was a waste of time."I didn't complete the Hell Challenge. When I was younger, they hadn't invented the Hell Challenge yet, and you could just travel between floors if you had the right connections."

"What are the other floors like?" Jonas narrowed his eyes, already skeptical of whatever Old Louie was about to say.

"I'm not going to describe them in detail because there's no point. However, each floor has its Hell Challenge and its Sin Assessment. Once a person on a different floor passes the Sin Assessment, the Government permits them to come to the Overworld. However, they're not allowed to hang out and fuck with the people here. They can visit and take the Hell Challenge, but that's it. Once they pass the test, they'll move on to the second floor. If your brother becomes a Sinner, he'll complete the Sin Assessment in the Underworld—the sixth floor. Then he'll have permission to come here and take the Hell Challenge. Do you understand?"

"I do," said Jonas. "So, the Sin Assessment for the Overworld, it's on the Sineville of the Seas, right?"

"Glatorius told you that, right? He most likely revealed more about his past now that you've got your Sin Scars. Yes, the big test takes place on an even bigger boat."

"I need a ticket, right?"

"A ticket and a location. Little bastard, have you been watching the news lately?" Old Louie scratched his beard and picked out a chunk of dirt. "Celebrities are dying, big shots in the Outlands are going missing. It happens every year in the months leading up to the Sin Assessment. Why? Because they were the first people to get tickets," he chuckled and shook his head. "Those fake Sinners. They get their Scars, train up a bit, and use their powers to become big shots in Commoner society. They think they're ready for the big test, but they're just food for the real Sinners."

"So, how did those fake Sinners get their hands on the tickets first?" Jonas found it strange. "Why not the real Sinners?"

"That's the game, isn't it?" Old Louie wiggled a provoking eyebrow. "The Sin Assessment begins as soon as the tickets are released. They give them to high-profile Sinners who suck ass, knowing that the best young Sinners in the Outlands will find, kill, and steal the tickets from those influential morons. Do you understand, Jonas? You have to hunt for your meal. If you want on that ship, you need to find someone with a ticket and kill them for it. Then you need to protect it until the cruise is ready for boarding. By my calculations, the ship is still sailing here from the Inlands."

"Fuck," Jonas was in shock. He exhaled and stared at Old Louie. "That's twisted. Okay," he was trying to find the right words. "Tell me a bit more about how to get a ticket and how the Sin Assessment works."

"I have a few ideas where we can find one. All of them are dangerous and involve you committing murder. You're okay with that, right?" Old Louie gave a toothy grin. "You can kill people, right?"

"Of course, I can," Jonas held his breath. "I don't want to kill innocent people. I don't mind doing it to people who fuck with me."

"Not good enough, Jonas," Old Louie shook his head. "It's not always going to be about innocence or guilt. You can't wait for someone to hurt you before you kill them in revenge. You need to be proactive about the whole thing. You need to seek other Sinners out and kill them without hesitation. I don't think you have it in you."

"I do have it in me," Jonas snarled. "I killed Wolf. I killed the Maldread."

"You killed Wolf because he was seconds away from killing you. Killing that foul beast didn't take much moral integrity because it was so fucking disgusting. You killed out of need. I want you to kill for no other reason than because your victims were in the way of you accomplishing your goals."

"That's fucked up," Jonas knew the conversation was taking a turn for the worse. "I don't want victims."

"Then I won't train you. You won't find a ticket for the ship. You'll never pass the Sin Assessment, and you'll never find your brother," Old Louie had a blunt way of putting it.

"You already agreed to be my master, and you already agreed to give me part two of my training," Jonas angrily tossed his cigarette out the window and lit another one. The conversation stressed the two so much they would probably smoke half the pack before it was over.

"If you choose to kill only based on good or evil, or if they've slighted you, you'll never amount to anything as a Sinner. However, you don't have to be cruel to pass the Sin Assessment. You only need to be willing to do what's necessary without crying like a little bitch about it. I'm going to point, and you're going to kill. If you do that, you'll pass my test, and I'll help you get a ticket. Got it? Part two of your training is to get used to killing. I need you to stop being so fucking edgy about it. Kill these mother fuckers and make them reincarnate into decent nobodies."

"Fine," Jonas agreed because he could see Old Louie wasn't lying or joking about not training him if he didn't agree to his condition. He was open to getting his hands dirty to accomplish his goals, but he didn't like indiscriminately killing people because Old Louie wanted him to. However, he didn't have a choice.

"Okay," Old Louie nodded but gave Jonas a skeptical glance. "Let me tell you a little about how the Sin Assessment works, and then we'll get to business. The test changes based on social norms and technology and whatnot. Years ago, when I partook, it was much different. Today, it takes place on a giant cruise ship called the Sineville of the Seas. Now, the ship is owned and operated by the governing forces of Sin City and the more influential families. On the Inland side, the most talented Hellite youths are chosen and given tickets by their clan leaders, and they will board the ship in Sin City. Once the ship departs for the Outlands, those little assholes will hang out and fuck around the entire time."

"The Hellites don't kill each other?" Jonas found that confusing. "Why?"

"Why do you think, dum-dum?" Old Louie looked at Jonas like he was a piece of moldy bread. "They want to wait til all you weak ass Outland pussies join them. They'll play card games, drink fine wines, and discuss all the different methods they're going to fuck with and torment you when you get on the ship."

"Fuck," Jonas felt a bit nervous. "They gang up on us? How am I supposed to survive?"

"Now, now. Don't worry so much. Let's talk about the Outland side of things. So, they give tickets to influential families in Sin City to bestow upon their younger generation. However, in the Outlands, it's a bit different. The government hands out tickets to popular dipshits, who'll inevitably bring the real Sinners out of hiding. Once the best Sinners among the Commoners get their pass, they'll head to the docking point in the capital city of the Outlands, Liberty City."

"Liberty City?" Jonas rolled his eyes. "Was it founded by Americans?"

"Yes. Ironically enough, that cesspool is full of slavery."

"Surprise, surprise," said Jonas. "So, what happens next?

"The Sinners in Liberty City will kill each other for a bit, at least until it's time to board. Once you step on the ship, the killing stops, and you play by their rules," Old Louie smirked. "If part one is earning a golden ticket—the Hellites skip part one, then part two is getting to the Sineville of the Seas alive, the Hellites also skip this part. Part three is where the Sin Assessment begins. The Examiners run the entire thing. They're people who work for the Prince of Hell. They create games and events to make you all kill each other. However, it's not the Examiners you have to worry about, although they're assholes too. It's all the Hellites who played nice the entire trip. You see, they wait for you Commoners to board the ship, then they have their fun by killing you all. Once the common rabble and pretend Sinners are out of the way, the Hellites play for real."

"Those fuckers. So, they don't kill each other on the way here, and when the ship picks us common Sinners up, they gang up on us?" Jonas looked disgusted. "Assholes."

"Well, to be fair, they aren't allowed to fight each other due to the rules. The Hellite families want their kids to come back alive, so they influence the Examiners to make things easier for their children's survival. The Sin Assessment doesn't start until the ship has left the Outlands, which means the Hellites won't have partaken in any games or activities that could cause death. Got it?"

"It's stacked in their favor. They have talent and resources, and their parents influence the rules. They didn't make it fair for Outlanders."

"That's why I need you to kill people and change your views of good and evil. It's for your survival."

"I understand now. If the Examiners are creating games and tests to make you kill people, and the Hellites are ganging up on you, it's only a matter of time before you have to get your hands dirty," things began clicking for Jonas, and he saw the point Old Louie was trying to make.

"Good boy. Now we're up to speed," he clapped his hand against his leg and puffed his cigarette. "The entire Sin Assessment tests your talent, creativity, resourcefulness, and willpower. The tests will stretch your morals and make you question your sanity but reward you with power and privileges beyond your wildest dreams. When you're on the ship, the deck and residential area will be Safe Zones where no one is allowed to fight, kill, or maim. However, once a game begins, you need to follow the rules and have your wits about you. The point of the test is to find the best of the best Sinners, give them a license, and reward them for their bad behavior."

"It's like the plot of some fucked up movie," Jonas shook his head with disapproval. "So, you get a license to Sin as a reward? How does that work?"

"It does a few things," Old Louie reached into his pocket and pulled out a golden card, no bigger than a credit card, trimmed with scarlet, and it shimmered in the sunlight. He flipped it over and showed it to Jonas.

"Louie Darnell, licensed by the Government of Hell. Cardinal Sin: Sloth, Original Sin: Healing, Code Name: The Hermit," there were some other words, but Jonas couldn't read them because the card was so dirty.

"They don't give cards away anymore. Now it's just all on your phone. I took the Sin Assessment back in the eighties, but I'm older than tit dirt, so I could have done it thousands of years ago when they handed you a carved stone with your name on it," Old Louie chuckled. "So, once you get one of these cards, you're permitted to live in the Inlands, stay in Sin City, access new privileges, and take the Hell Challenge. Now, normally, you have to beat the first challenge before they let you leave your assigned floor, but it's different for the people who were sentenced or born on different levels of Hell. They only need to pass their Sin Assessment, and they can come to the first floor to start the Hell Challenge."

"Everything is starting to make a lot of sense now. I guess my only question left is how to get a ticket?"

"Were you not listening, little asshole?" Old Louie grumbled impatiently. "You've got to kill someone with a ticket and take it from their body. It's a hunt, so expect many Hunters scouring the streets of Liberty City while looking for their victims. Once we conclude our business here, we'll head to the big city and find some idiot with a ticket for you to take. Then you've got to protect it for a few weeks until the ship arrives. Listen, Jonas. I'm not going to kill anyone for you, nor will I help you protect your ticket. I won't be on the ship to protect you, so I need to be sure you're prepared and ready to face whatever's waiting for you."

"I know," said Jonas. "It's on me. You're still going to train me, right?"

"Obviously," said Old Louie. "Part two of your training begins today and ends as soon as you board the Sineville of the Seas. Now, let's head out. We've got an auction to attend."

Thank you to my Gold Patron, PandaLady12

Tower of Hell: Caged and Confused, Book 1, Chapter 129

The atmosphere of the game room was light-hearted but also filled with the anxiousness associated with anticipation. Jonas' friends weren't just anticipating the arrival of Simon and Felicia but also the departure of their leader, who would be leaving quite soon.

Jonas and Ralph teamed up to play Pete and Bannji in a two-against-two game of billiards. Although Bannji wasn't overly familiar with the game, he had quickly learned because of Pete's tutelage. His one-eyed teacher had been a former pool master and known throughout the Black Panther community as one of the best African American billiards players never to turn professional.

"I feel like I learn something new about you every day," Jonas grimaced as Pete smirked and sank the eight ball. Neither he nor Ralph took a single shot because their friend had quickly cleared the table. "Black Panther, pool master. They could make a movie about you."

"I'm okay with no one knowing my story. I wasn't too important in the grand scheme of the movement, but I hope I impacted the lives of some of my people," Pete smiled and pointed to the triangle. "Rack 'em back up."

"So, Pete," Jonas prepared the table for the next game. "What about finding your wife or plans for the future? Are you still going to look for her?" He watched Pete narrow his eyes in thought.

"Sometimes I want to. However, we might've moved on because it's been so long since we've seen each other. If I'm honest with myself, I might search for Jenesha just for closure rather than to reunite and stay together. I like being single and free in this new lifetime. She was my best friend, but our marriage before death was rocky, and we had been on the outs. That was forty-fifty years ago," Pete shook his head and puffed on his cigar. "Nah, there's no point in searching. I'll use Phillip's contact and see if she comes up, but that's about as far as I'll go to find her. As for my plans now, I'm just going to work. No one has heard from MLK in a while, and it doesn't seem like the Black Panther movement has made much noise in Hell."

"That doesn't surprise me," Bannji chimed in. "I haven't heard a peep from the Hutus, Tutsis, or any African organizations."

"All the old gangs, businesses, governments, political groups, and other organizations from Earth haven't found a footing here in Hell. It's hard when you've separated from everyone who shared your beliefs. There's also that feeling like you don't give a fuck anymore. I used to be the most patriotic mother fucker, ever. I gave my life for my country, and within a few weeks of being in Hell I stopped giving a fuck about America."

"Yeah, I understand what you're trying to say," Pete nodded. "Those previous ties start to fade away when you arrive in Hell. Then you sort of just assimilate?" They all nodded at his words. "You sort of fall into your role as a Commoner of Hell, and you stop associating with your previous life. Sometimes, this place makes me forget about the past," his words rang true for all of them. It was difficult for them to come to terms with their past and current selves because the Overworld seemed to have some effect on them. Assimilation was a great word to describe how they acted when each arrived in Hell.

"I never had time to be a Commoner," Jonas shook his head. "You guys spent weeks, months, and even years before the Hurts gang captured you. I was human trafficked within a day of my arrival, and the Hurts gang bought me just a week later. I never had time to assimilate into normal society. I went from being a modern-day teenager to a fighting slave, and then, I became a Sinner."

"That's kind of crazy when you think about it," Pete broke the balls to begin their next game. "I admire the tenacity and guts it took to survive the way you did. Now, instead of finally experiencing Commoner society, you're taking off for the Sin Assessment and becoming a True Sinner."

"He's a little psycho. We've established this. I don't think he belongs in Commoner society. Sorry to say it, Jo, but you belong with those bastard Hellites," Johnson chuckled and lit a cigarette. His sarcasm was evident, and Jonas wasn't offended.

"Bannji, what about you?" Jonas deflected the conversation and made it about someone else. "This is the last night I'll spend with you too, and I want to know a little bit more about what you're planning."

"Ah, young brother. I want to reunite with my wife and daughter, you know? It's been a long time, and I was afraid I'd never see them again. However, Pete has shown me the error of my ways. I'll find my wife, Garuka, and my daughter, Keza, or I'll try to find out what happened to them," Bannji shook his head and looked a bit depressed. "What happens when the kids leave Little Heaven? What if my wife has never used Hell Works? What do I do then?"'

"I wish I had the answers for you," said Jonas.

"Me too," said Bannji. "I'll work for now as I save money and meet new contacts. Eventually, I hope to have the resources to search for my family. Thank you for asking."

"Thanks for changing sides and helping us escape," Bannji nodded and pointed at the game. Pete's turn was back up, and he'd sunk the eight ball again.

"You lost, young brother. You're too distracted."

Jonas agreed with the sentiment: he was too distracted. He was only then realizing how little he knew about his friends, how much more there was to know, and how little time he had to speak to them. It was the first time Jonas had anyone other than Drake to care about him, and now he'd be separated from them too. He wasn't depressed or anxious, but it made him feel frustrated that he didn't have more time to explore a part of his life he hadn't explored enough.

"Get out of your head," Johnson smacked Jonas' shoulder, who was shocked back to the present. "Play pool with your friends until Simon gets here. Then you can go to bed  and hang out in dreamland with all your fucked up thoughts."

"I hate that you know me so well," Jonas sighed and knocked on the edge of the pool table. "Another round. This time I'm going to go all out."

"Terrifying," mocked Pete. "You might be able to kick my ass in a fight, but I'm your daddy when it comes to pool."

They were about halfway through another game when Jonas heard his phone notification. He slipped it out of his pocket and saw that Phillip had messaged him.

"They're thirty minutes away," his heart gave a little jump of excitement. "Should we wake up Theo?"

"Nah, let him sleep," Johnson shook his head. "He can meet Felicia tomorrow. It's you who needs to stay up. What time are you supposed to be meeting the old man?"

"Eight pm, why?"

"So I know how much time we have left together," there was sadness behind Johnson's smiling expression. "Have you thought any more about how to use your Original Sin?"

"I have thoughts on how to use it," Jonas clicked his tongue. "The problem is coming across a situation that calls for it, and then I have to want it enough, but I don't know enough when it comes to Sin, and it feels like I'm missing pieces to the puzzle."

"That's what the old man is for, right?" Johnson grabbed a pool stick and began chalking the tip. "He's going to fill in the blanks for you."

"Yeah. That's true. I wish I didn't need to rely on Old Louie. I'd prefer learning alone instead of dealing with someone untrustworthy. Whatever."

"Don't fret about it," said Johnson. "Just get what you need to know from the old asshole, get a ticket to the ship, and then rid yourself of him for good. You won't need him after you learn more about Sinning and get on that boat."

"I didn't think of it like that," Jonas scratched his chin. "Just get what I want and leave."

"You don't need to be his friend or his student. Just do whatever you need to survive and find your brother," Jonas nodded and turned his attention back to the game.

"Are you ready to finish up?" Pete yawned. "I was getting tired waiting for your ass."

"Then let me wake you up. It's my turn, right?" Jonas turned to Ralph, who nodded. The young Crusader narrowed his eyes in concentration, called the pocket he wanted, and smashed the white ball to the point it flew and cracked against his target. A few minutes later, Jonas had sunk all the balls and won the game. "I'm taking a break until Simon gets here. Johnson can jump in for me."

Jonas left the game room and traveled down a few hallways until he made it back to the dining room, which had been cleared and cleaned by the staff, and took a seat on one of the dark wooden chairs. He needed some alone time to clear his head because the conversation about Original Sin made him anxious, and his Pride was disturbed. He was very talented and knew it was only a matter of time before he mastered new skills, but the fear of the unknown filled his heart with tiny feelings of dread.

Sin wasn't a subject that could be completely self-taught, and it was nearly impossible to access specific aspects of Sin without knowing their existence beforehand. A Commoner could kill, torture, or rape, but it wouldn't make their Sin Scars appear. Jonas had performed small acts of True Sin, but deep down, he knew what he had done was a drop in the ocean compared to a real Sinner's capabilities. He wanted to know what the mountain tops looked like for Sinners, and then he desired to climb past those peaks.

The giant dining room was quiet besides the ticking of a clock and the sounds of the night staff finishing their duties. The Glatorius mansion was always bustling with workers because Phillip was a very generous employer who often hired and scheduled way too many staff members so that everyone was making enough money to survive. Jonas had never seen the Overworld from the perspective of someone who worked an hourly wage. He didn't know how stressful it could be to survive the horrors of Hell, make enough money to pay your bills, and try to obey the unspoken social guidelines that kept people relatively safe.

Jonas knew he didn't have to go on a fruitless mission searching for Drake. He understood how blessed he was to understand a bit about Sin, have a contact like Phillip Glatorius, and have all the resources at his disposal that a Commoner could dream of wanting. Some might say Jonas was wasting his fortune by going with Old Louie to chase after the S.S. Sinner and eventually his brother. Jonas would say that finding Drake was the most important thing to him; however, he found himself questioning the purpose of his Crusade. Before, it was just to be with his big brother and punch him in the face as payback and to hear him apologize for being such a jerk. However, Jonas had real questions he needed Drake to answer, such as how much his brother knew about their circumstances before they died, who their parents were, and the truth about anything else he was hiding.

The distance between their respective floors never made Jonas feel far away from his brother; however, the lying gave Jonas a foreign feeling when he thought of Drake, and any memory of him had an aura of unfamiliarity. The two of them had once shared an unbreakable bond capable of surviving trauma, abuse, and the horrors of the world. Together they survived the worst of humanity, the coldness of solitude, and for each other, they were the light that beat back the shadows in their hearts.

Who was Drake Ariel? Jonas had never asked that question until he was alone in the darkened dining room, wondering if it was worth leaving a life of comfort and certainty for a life of pain and unknown. Was Jonas no longer caged and confused, truly?

The minutes drained, and Jonas was slack-jawed and staring blankly at the wall in front of him, absorbed in his daydreams and inner thoughts. He heard a thud in the distance, an engine roaring, and the sound of a security guard's staticky walkie-talkie. The disturbances broke him from his brooding, and a smile crept across his face. Simon was back. Jonas leaped from his chair and crossed the house to the entrance hall, where his friends were already waiting.

"Do you think we look over-eager if we're all waiting at the front door like this?" Johnson grinned.

"Probably," said Jonas. "I want Felicia to see how much Simon means to us and how excited we are to meet her. If that means we look silly, oh well."

"True that," Johnson nodded in agreement. "Oh, here they come," they heard Phillip's voice from behind the front door, which opened to reveal their giant host.

"Ah, we've got a welcoming party. How's everyone?" Phillip looked tired, but he smiled and stepped out of the way so Simon and Felicia could enter. The two of them were holding hands, their eyes reddened from crying, their mouths dry from talking, and they locked fingers tightly like they were afraid they'd separate and never see each other again.

"Welcome back!" Jonas smiled and felt his heart melt because he'd never seen Simon look so happy like his life had meaning again. Felicia was a thin woman of average height and quite nice-looking, with big green eyes, happy eyebrows, and a broad smile capable of charming a room. She wasn't overly attractive, but she didn't need to be when she possessed things much more important: a lively expression, eyes filled with loving tenderness, and she cared dearly for their good friend, Simon. Jonas took one look at her and knew that she was a good person, and it warmed his heart to know he'd be leaving his best buddy in good hands.

"You guys didn't have to wait," Simon smiled. "Jo, this is my wife, Felicia. Lee, this is the kid I was telling you about, Jonas Ariel."

"It's great to meet you. I just spent the last three hours hearing all about how you saved my husband's butt and broke him free. Thank you, Jonas. It's all because of you that we were able to reunite," Felicia reached out and hugged Jonas, who was surprised but returned the gesture by politely wrapping his arms around her.

"Simon did more for me than I could ever do for him. He supported me and had my back throughout my entire time at the Hurts gang, and I wouldn't have survived if it wasn't for him. He's the best man I know. I'm crazy happy for you both, and I'd love to sit down and hear all about you," they broke apart, and she smiled at him.

"I'll need another drink. I haven't stopped talking since we left Burningham. My employer was quite gentlemanly about the whole situation and made everything much smoother. I felt guilty for leaving on such short notice, but he understood my situation and wished me all the best."

"That's good. I'm glad your boss didn't give you a hard time. You'll be okay without that job, though. Simon's a Sinner and has a good-paying job with tons of benefits," Jonas met eyes with Phillip, who smiled and nodded in agreement. "He'll be able to protect you and Annie when she comes to the Overworld."

"So I've heard, though, I still don't understand what a Sinner is."

"I'm going to get Felicia settled in," Simon interrupted their conversation. "Once we bring her stuff upstairs to our room, we'll meet you in the dining room. Jonas nodded and waved to the rest of his crew.

"You heard the boss. Let's wait in the dining room," to which nearly everyone followed him. As he took a seat at the table, he spotted Mr. Ken. "Mr. Ken, could you have the staff put on some soup or something and maybe grab some drinks?" The head butler nodded and left behind the kitchen doors. He returned five minutes later with a few pitchers of lemonade and a stack of glasses. It was a refreshing drink that chilled Jonas' throat and made him feel relaxed and sleepy.

"Almost bedtime," Johnson saw Jonas fighting back a yawn. "We'll chat with them a bit and then head off to sleep. You need to get a few hours in before tomorrow."

"Okay, dad," Jonas smirked. They all chatted for another ten minutes before Felicia and Simon came to the table and took their seats. The two of them had spruced up a bit, but they both still looked tired. "So, I'm assuming you have some questions?" Jonas directed his question at Felicia, who nodded and smiled.

"Simon tried to explain Sinners to me, but I still don't understand."

"Well, you've probably noticed that Simon looks different from what you remember?" Jonas asked, and Felicia nodded.

"For one thing, he's jacked. He looks healthier and sexier than I've ever seen him. Even his bald spot is gone," Felicia checked her husband out, who gave a sheepish grin and blushed.

"When you get to Hell, everyone is given a new body that's healthier and more durable than those on Earth. Our new bodies are made adaptable to Sin: it's a type of force that makes up everything in Hell. Think of electrons."

"Okay, I've understood that much. Sin isn't an obscure topic in Hell, and Commoners like me have some understanding of it."

"There are people in the world who've learned to harness the power of Sin and use it to perform magic. We call them Sinners. And people like us can use our powers of Sin to do tremendous and terrible things."

"Yeah, Simon said as much," Felicia nodded. "I still don't understand what a Sinner does or how someone becomes one."

"You need to go through a lot of harsh situations to unlock your Sin Scars," Jonas flipped his hands and showed off his glowing red crosses. "Sin Scars are like a Sinner's magic wand because they channel our powers and represent our Cardinal Sin."

"Like the seven deadly sins," Felicia sipped her lemonade.

"Exactly," said Jonas. "Beginners like Simon can enhance their physicality, making themselves powerful and faster. I'm a bit more advanced and can do a variety of magics like heal myself in minutes, heal others, or even make my blood burn like acid."

"So, Sinners must be rare because I'm surprised I've never heard anything about them," Felicia still seemed skeptical.

"Let me show you something," Jonas pulled out the Blade of Sacrifice from the harness on his belt. He always kept it holstered at his hip since Theo recommended he keep it as a reminder. He sliced the blade across his hand and watched the blood pool in his palm. "Now, I'm going to channel my Sin of Pride and use it to heal myself," Jonas healed himself effortlessly and didn't have to think about it. He grabbed a cloth, wiped his palm clean, and showed Felicia. "All healed."

"Amazing," she was open-mouthed and mystified. "Truly like magic."

"I'm a beginner too, but I've learned a few tricks to help me survive. In the Outlands, Sinners are few and far between. The government likes to keep information on them on a need-to-know basis, and Sinners don't like to expose themselves because it puts a target on their backs. Hence, you haven't heard of them because they don't want you to. Believe it or not, there's an entire world of super-powered psychos out there who live entirely different existences compared to a Commoner."

"That's terrifying, but it paints a clearer picture for me," Felicia looked both a bit disturbed and amazed. "I have a few more questions if you don't mind," Jonas obliged and answered every single question she had. Sometimes, Simon or Johnson would chime in, and the rest of the questions Jonas would try his best to answer. There was a lot to learn about the secret world of Sinners, and each topic further alienated Felicia from the rest of the Commoner society, who knew nothing about Sinners. They spoke for nearly an hour before everyone at the table was yawning and occasionally glancing toward the staircase which led to their beds.

"Jonas, it was a pleasure meeting you," Felicia looked like she was going to pass out, and her eyes were watering from tiredness. "I hope we can speak more tomorrow before you leave. I'm going to sleep now," and the rest of the party wore tired smiles as they appreciated Felicia being the first to excuse herself.

"Not at all. It was my pleasure. I'm tired as all hell too, but we can get to know each other more tomorrow. I'm leaving around seven-thirty-ish, so we should get some time to hang out and get to know each other more. Goodnight, everyone," and they all wished each other a good night before heading upstairs and to bed. Jonas wasn't far behind them, and when he closed his door, he quickly undressed and launched himself into his warm covers. "One more day," Jonas mumbled before drifting right to sleep.

Jonas must've slept for a very long time because when he finally awoke, it was nearing three in the afternoon, and his appointment with Old Louie was only hours away. "Fuck," he yawned and stepped naked into the walk-in shower, and ten minutes later, he was drying himself off while throwing on a pair of skinny jeans and a hoodie.

"Why'd you guys let me sleep so long," Jonas smiled at seeing all his friends lounging in the game room. Some played pool, some watched television while seated on the massive couch, and some sat at tables with alcoholic beverages in their hands.

"Jonas!" Simon looked joyful and had a beer in his hand. "We agreed to let you sleep in because we knew you had a big day."

"Guys," Jonas looked a bit exasperated. "It's our last day together, and I spent it all sleeping."

"Oh, forget it," Johnson rolled his eyes. "We can video chat using our new hell phones," he pulled out a shiny black touchscreen phone from his pocket and showed it off. "Phillip got us them while you were sleeping. Unfortunately, the apartments won't be ready for another two days, but I trust him to get it done after you're gone,"

"Me too," said Jonas. "Looks like you're all stuck staying in this mansion for now," and everyone grinned at him. "Where's Phillip?"

"Getting some other stuff ready before you leave," said Simon. "Everyone still wants to connect their phone with yours, so pull it out," to which Jonas did so.

"So, I select to add multiple contacts, and you all share your phones?" Jonas only had two contacts: Phillip and Old Louie took the liberty of adding their number to his phone.

"That's right. It's a cool feature that lets you quickly add multiple people at once. It should even have our names already down," said Simon, and Jonas did as instructed. The phone told him nearly a dozen people were sharing their information with him, and Jonas clicked each person's name and added them to his contact list. Yotama Yuki, Theodore Wallace, Pete Ingram, Ralph Gordon, Simon Rhule, Felicia Rhule, Erik Johnson, Bannji Balewa, and Amberlee Glatorius.

"Perfect," Jonas finished adding them. "Now we can text, call, and video chat," it made him feel a bit better knowing his friends would be at his fingertips, and he could check in on them any time he wanted.

"We already had breakfast and lunch, but the cooks will be glad to warm something up for you before dinner," Amberlee smiled.

"Maybe a couple of sandwiches wouldn't hurt," Jonas was feeling a bit hungry, and he watched one of the servants bow and head toward the kitchen. The next hour went by in a flash, and Jonas watched Phillip come inside the game room and wave at them.


Thank you to my Gold Patron, PandaLady12

Tower of Hell: Caged and Confused, Book 1, Chapter 128

Loud pop music played throughout the restaurant as Samantha greeted Jonas' party of six. She was a bit sweaty, but her glossy skin and heavy breathing only added to her charm. She glanced at Jonas, smiled in surprise, and flicked her blonde locks behind her shoulders.

"Thanks for coming to Pizza Slut, gentlemen. Today's special is three large pizzas with three toppings and three pitchers of beer for sixty Sin Stones. Can I start you off with some drinks?"

"Do three of those specials," said Jonas. "But bring the beers now, please."

"Sure thing, babe," Samantha winked. "Toppings?"

"Pepperoni, bacon, and extra cheese. You guy's care if we keep things simple and make them all the same?" No one complained.

"And what kind of beer for the pitchers?" Asked Samantha.

"Uh," Jonas had only drunk two brands of beers during his time in Hell: Blood Light, which was the most expensive brew, and Swamp Ale, which was the cheapest.

"Just bring a few pitchers of Red Platinum," Pete saw Jonas' hesitation and answered for him.

Samantha nodded, walked away, and added extra spice to her step as she shook her hips, hoping to catch Jonas' eye.

"Thanks for the save," Jonas chuckled. "I have no idea what brands of beer there are."

"Commoners drink stuff like Red Platinum, Killer Lite, or Menace Draught."

"Good to know," said Jonas.

"So, I'm curious," said Johnson. "What training do you think the old man will give you? I'd figure you're one of the strongest Sinners in all of Sun City. What could you possibly still have to learn?"

"I'm nothing compared to the guys taking the Sin Assessment. If what I know is correct, the S.S. Sinner will have the most talented youths in the Overworld. To survive, I need more information about True Sin, Sin Sorcery, and the inner workings of the Inlands. Old Louie is the only True Sinner I know, which means I don't have a choice but to trust he once survived the Sin Assessment and can teach me what I need to know," Jonas knew that he was still ignorant of Sin, but he wasn't sure how far that ignorance reached.

"It's crazy to think that being one of the strongest people in an entire city isn't good enough to pass a damn test," Pete shook his head. "I think the only person here that could have a chance at becoming a True Sinner, other than Jonas, is Ralphy."

"No interest," Ralph dismissed the idea. "I just want to live a normal life, and I'm not giving up the golden opportunities that Phillip offered. I'm okay with being a regular Sinner, living in a nice apartment, working a good job, and having small luxuries," his words made the rest of them nod—everyone but Jonas.

"You got it, Ralph," said Johnson. "Commoner's dream of this opportunity. I'm going to cherish it for as long as I can. I respect you so much, Jonas. Thank you for everything you've done for me."

"I wasn't leaving that gang without you, Erik," Jonas smiled. "You and Simon are my rocks, and I'm not sure how I'll survive without you.  I love you, boys," Samantha arrived with their pitchers of beer, interrupting what was otherwise a tender moment.

"Hey, handsome," Samantha put a glass mug in front of Jonas. "What's your name?"

"Jonas," said Jonas, rather dully because he wasn't in a flirty mood. Samantha could see his lack of interest, but it didn't dissuade her. Handsome men riding in limos meant security, and commoner women would humble and humiliate themselves for that lifestyle.

"Well, Jonas, your pizzas will be out soon. If there's anything else I can get for you, and I mean anything," she let her suggestive words roll off her tongue. "Don't hesitate to ask. I'm at your service."

"Thanks, Sam," Jonas smiled politely and gave his attention to pouring beer into his glass mug.

"Not a problem," Samantha gave a flirtatious expression to the rest of the men, but none caught her attention as Jonas did. "Anything else, guys?"

"I'll take your number," Johnson took a shot. "We can go for a ride in our limo."

"Oh," she said while looking interested. "What do you do for work? It must be pretty lucrative to afford to ride around in that thing."

"Our boss lets us take the limo out whenever we want. I'm a VIP security agent. I protect the most valuable members of Hell," as Johnson spoke, Jonas and the rest found it hard not to roll their eyes. The shamelessness was astounding.

"Very nice," judging by the expression of the people at the table, Samantha deduced that Johnson was full of shit, and she lost interest. "I'll be back around, have fun."

"Damn," said Johnson as he watched her walk away. "I thought that'd work. Whatever, let's drink!" The boys burst into laughter and began clinking their glasses together.

"You know what's crazy?" Jonas smacked his lips after taking a long gulp of beer. "This is the first time I've gone out to a restaurant with friends. It's crazy to think I've never had more than one friend at a time, excluding my brother," Jonas humbly sipped his beer and quickly realized he'd said something embarrassing.

"Seriously?" Johnson gave him a skeptical look. "You'd be the most popular guy at my high school. How'd you become such a loner?"

"I lived in my little world," Jonas recalled his previous life and tried to remember his daily routines, but they seemed foggy and distant. "There wasn't anything other than Drake and me. I didn't relate to other kids and hated others without knowing it. With you guys, I feel connected because we've shared in trauma and all the other fucked up stuff we've experienced. I didn't have that with anyone but my brother."

"That's fair," Simon nodded. "I was like you too, and I kept to myself and a small group of friends that shared my thoughts and opinions. I think it's more surprising because of the way you look."

"Looks can be deceiving," said Jonas. "I've known I was good-looking since I was a preteen, and I'll tell you right now that my appearance has caused me more trouble than it’s worth. People see a shiny object, and they have only a few responses: hoard it, sell it, or fight over it. I've had all three done to me, and it's not as incredible as you might think. People give me greedy gazes, and I don't even know how genuine someone is about liking me. Then you have all the jealous people who want to break something nice, and that's usually my face," Jonas shook his head and gave them a self-deprecating look.

"Eh, I'd take all of that to look like you," Johnson was the most brutally honest of their group, and he was so often out-of-pocket; however, Jonas always appreciated his nature and ability to speak his truth without fear of judgment.

"That's fair," Jonas chuckled, and so did the rest of their party.

"So, have you spoken to Old Louie since?" Asked Pete. "Where are you meeting him?"

"Believe it or not," said Jonas. "Black Fly auctions. They're the people who sold me to Phillip Glatorius."

"What the fuck?" Pete shook his head. "Why would you go back there?"

"For revenge!" Bannji banged the table and smiled wildly. "Jonas needs revenge against the people who sold him like cattle. That is part two of training, right?"

"Good observation," Jonas was surprised that Bannji had surmised the reasoning considering they weren't very close.

"Sinners need to be brutal, and they have long memories. Once they gain power, it's not uncommon for them to seek out old grudges and clear the demons in their hearts. I agree with your old master," Bannji curled his lip and gave Jonas a look full of approval. "You will make them pay, right?"

"I don't know," Jonas hadn't thought about what he'd do when he got to Dark Fly Auctions, nor did he know what Old Louie's intentions were. "My master said he wants me to take revenge, and I think that means part two of my training is getting me to kill again."

"Good people don't make great Sinners," Bannji shook his head. "If you want to get to the top, you'll kill dozens, maybe hundreds. In the past, I met a True Sinner. He taught me a little about Sinning and said I should check out Little Wrath City if I wanted to understand more about the world of Sinners. This man told me he had killed so many people he'd lost count, and that's when I knew that True Sinners were of a different breed. Jonas, if you want to take the Sin Assessment, you'll have to be as brutal as that man."

"So I've been told," Jonas didn't feel anxious about killing people, and the lack of anxiety concerned him most. He'd lost part of himself in the Hurts gang, and the brutality he'd experienced had taken its toll. "I don't know. If I don't want to kill someone, I'm not going to."

"What a Crusader thing to say," Johnson smirked. "Jonas, take my advice. Don't kill innocent people. However, if people are wasting their afterlives being pieces of shit by human trafficking, owning slaves, or raping, just fucking kill them. Sending them into reincarnation will stop them from hurting other people and make this world a little bit better. You need to change your mindset to make it any farther as a Sinner. God, the police, the government, the public: no one will punish you for killing scumbags."

"I know, Erik," Jonas sighed in frustration. "I'm going to kill again. I don't like people telling me I need to kill to become a strong Sinner. I'd like to think I can become a True Sinner through my talent and convictions, not because I have to resort to murdering people. That's all I'm trying to say."

"Okay, okay," Simon waved them down. "Enough of that. Jonas will do what Jonas will do. That's how it's always been, and that's how it will always be. No one here knows better than him what it takes to become a True Sinner, and he'll make decisions best for him. I know you'll do great things."

"I agree," said Johnson. "Sorry, Jonas. I wasn't trying to patronize you."

"Pizza," Ralph's low growl broke the awkward conversation, and the six of them watched Samantha and three other servers bring over the first pizzas of their order. Each of the women wore revealing clothing themed with pizza topping, and all of them were quite pretty and sending Jonas glances and suggestive smiles.

"We'll be right back with the rest, gentlemen," the pizzas were massive, cheesy, and generous with the toppings. After Jonas and company ate their first slices, the girls returned with the rest of their food.

"Good pizza," Jonas folded his in half and dipped it in the sauce. "I haven't had fast food in years. I missed it."

"There are a lot of things you start to miss after spending so long in a cage," said Simon. "Phillip hasn't called you, has he?"

"No, sorry. My ringer is on, so we'll all hear it," Jonas knew how anxious his dear friend was and wished he could make things better for him.

The rest of their dinner went by at an enjoyable pace, and they spent another hour digging through all nine pizzas and drinking a few extra rounds of beer. Jonas was sure to try a bunch of different flavors, none stacked up to Blood Light; however, Killer Lite was pretty tasty. Samantha came by a few times to clear the empty trays and bring new drinks, and eventually, she dropped the bill off.

"Three hundred stones," Jonas gave a low whistle. "I'm pretty much broke. Johnson, could you go grab the driver and tell him we're ready?" Erik nodded and left the booth while Jonas turned to Samantha. "Their boss is going to pay for dinner tonight."

"You don't work with them?" Samantha asked. "What do you do?"

"Unemployed," Jonas smiled. "I used to do a bit of modeling, though," and he was pleased to hear his friend's good-natured chuckles.

"Very nice," Samantha's smile faltered after hearing of Jonas' unemployment, but she figured his looks were decent enough to look past it. Sam small-talked with them until Johnson and the security guard came around the corner.

"I'll take the bill, miss," he pulled out his hell phone.

"Give her a good tip," said Jonas, and the security guard nodded as he used his phone to complete the payment against her debit machine. Sam's eyes widened as she saw her tip, smiled brightly, and thanked them all for coming.

"Pizza Slut was fun," said Jonas a few minutes later as he was climbing into the limo. "The food wasn't as good as the stuff we have at Phillip's mansion, but it was still pretty tasty."

"Agreed," said Johnson. "Let's get shit-faced back to the mansion and have one last fun night together," and there were cheers of agreement from the guys in the limo. A few hours later, they sat at the dining room table playing cards, smoking tobacco, taking shots, and chugging beers.

There was heavy laughter, loud voices, and the smell of alcohol permeated the room. Jonas was happy with his last night with his friends, and he wouldn't have had the night go any differently. He watched as Pete and Bannji arm wrestled while Ralph egged them on. Simon was swirling his drink while anxiously awaiting news of Felicia. Johnson had a stack of empty beer cans built like a house on the table, Theo was playing cards against Mr. Ken, and Yuki was in deep conversation with Amberlee about Sunrise Sanctuary. Jonas found that the two women had gotten along surprisingly well.

"An all-female security task force would be a great idea," Yuki furrowed her brow. "I can train some girls at the sanctuary and send them to jobs once they're ready. Are there enough VIP women who want an all-girl security force?"

"Definitely," said Amberlee. "You're giving them great employment and setting them up for when they no longer need you. Presidential Protection Services will work hand in hand with Sunrise Sanctuary, providing resources and training to women, who in turn will work for us if they want," she stuck out a slender hand, and Yuki shook it.

"I'm glad we're on the same page," they stopped chatting because Phillip came around the corner and entered the dining room.

"Simon, I've got good news," and the room went deathly silent while Simon's face turned white, and he stared wide-eyed. "Her employer, John Rasem, called me back and told me that Felicia Rhule is working for him. Simon, he's gone to fetch her, and you two can speak and confirm that it's each other," Phillip walked over with the phone glued to his ear. He stared at Simon while waiting for the person on the other line to return to their phone call.

"It's going to be her," Jonas patted Simon's shoulder and smiled confidently. "I know it is."

"I hope it's her," Simon was sweating, and they could see his breathing was irregular. "I'm praying it is, and I don't ever pray."

"Hello," said Phillip, and everyone's attention turned to him. "Yes, John, I'm here. Could you put Felicia on the line now? I'm going to pass the phone to Simon," and he handed his massive hell phone over to Simon, who accepted it with trembling hands and put it to his ear.

"Felicia?" There was a long pause before a woman's shaky voice replied.

"Simon, is that really you?"

"It's me," Simon's lip trembled, and tears began to fall from his eyes. "It's your Simon," there was a sudden yelp as Felicia dropped the phone because her hands had gone momentarily numb. Simon could hear her in the background, apologizing profusely, and she picked the phone back up and pressed it against her ear.

"Simon? Are you serious?" Felicia inhaled a deep breath from her emotions and was still skeptical. "What color dress did I wear on our first date?"

"Green," said Simon. "You wanted to wear the blue one, but you spilled juice all down the front while waiting for me to pick you up," his words caused Felicia to lose her breath and almost drop the phone again.

"I can't believe it's you. I never thought I'd see you again," Felicia's voice was trembling, and she was seconds away from crying. "How?"

"It's a very long story," Simon smiled, and the tears rolled down his cheeks. "I got captured a while back, but this amazing kid broke me out. He even got me a job and helped me find you," he glanced at Jonas, whose cheeks went red from embarrassment.

"He does sound amazing," Felicia tried to keep her voice steady. "So, where are you?"

"Sun City. At my boss's mansion. Listen, Felicia. I'm coming to pick you up, okay?"

"Sun City?" Felicia was amazed because they were only a few hours apart. "Do you have a car?"

"I do. I have enough to keep us safe and the means to live a comfortable life, and you won't have to work. We can have a home for Annie to return to when she's finished on the fifth floor."

"Simon," Felicia was flabbergasted. "I can't believe it. How is this all possible?"

"I'll show you when I see you," Simon paused to collect himself. "I'm so sorry. I didn't even ask if you wanted to meet me. Do you, Felicia? Do you want to meet with me?"

"Of course I do," Felicia was crying, laughing, and sounding annoyed. "I love you," Simon closed his eyes because he felt he could pass out from how strongly those words had affected him.

"I love you too. I'm leaving now for Burningham City. I'm passing the phone back to Phillip, who'll make the arrangements. I'll see you very soon."

"Okay. I'm giving the phone to Mr. Rasem. I'll talk to you soon," Felicia handed the phone back to her boss, and Simon did the same, both begrudgingly. Phillip and John returned to their conversation, exchanged details, and quickly hung up.

"Congrats, buddy," Jonas hugged Simon, and Johnson hugged them both.

"Can't believe it's her," Simon cried. "Never thought I'd hear her voice again. Holy fuck."

"I hate to interrupt," Phillip cleared his throat. "My team is getting the limo ready and will drive Simon and me to Burningham City in about ten minutes. Are any of you coming?"

"Sure," said Jonas, but Simon held up a hand.

"Would you be offended if I asked you guys to stay here and let me do this alone?" He wiped his tears and gave Jonas an apologetic look. "You guys stay here and keep partying. We'll be back in a few hours. I want to spend some time and talk to Felicia alone."

"Not a problem, Simon," Jonas patted his shoulder and gave him an approving smile. "We'll hold down the fort until you get back. No guarantees we're all awake when you arrive."

"Perfect," Simon exhaled a breath of relief. "I'm ready to go whenever you're ready."

"After you," Phillip gestured to Simon, and the two hurried out of the kitchen and out of sight.

"Good for him," Jonas grabbed two beers and passed one to Johnson. "Tonight isn't just about me anymore. We're celebrating the reunion of two good people. Cheers, to Simon and Felicia," Johnson grabbed the beer, smiled brightly, and chugged his beer.

"Now we just need to get his daughter back, and their family reunion will be complete," Johnson began lining up crystal shot glasses, screwed open a bottle of rum, and poured.

"In due time. If I make it to the fifth floor before Annie turns eighteen, I'll tell her myself how to find them. I promise," Jonas grabbed one of the shot glasses, clinked his against Johnson's, and they threw them back. It burned his throat but warmed his heart and soul.

"Yuki and Theo," Jonas shook his head. "Are the two of you going to sip wine for the entire night? Have a shot," the two of them exchanged glances. They wouldn't identify as party animals, but they understood it was their last night together.

"Fine," said Yuki. "One shot, and then I'm back on my wine."

"I took a near-death ass-whooping from Garth. You don't think I can handle a bit of rum?" Theo looked offended. "That's just rich."

The two grabbed a shot glass, clinked them together, and downed the contents. Yuki was unfazed by the burning liquor down her throat, but Theo's eyes watered, and he had to keep clearing his throat.

"Just rich," Jonas repeated, and they all chuckled.

The night continued, and so did their drinking and celebrating. Ralph, Pete, and Bannji had gone to play billiards in the game room, while Theo had been the first to head off to bed. It was nearing midnight, and Simon had been gone for almost two hours before Jonas finally got a text from Phillip Glatorius.

"It's her. We're grabbing her things and heading back to Sun City. See you soon," Jonas read aloud and showed his phone to Johnson.

"Fucking great," Johnson whooped. "Let's go for a smoke," the two of them headed outside on the terrace, opened up a fresh pack of Diamond Doubles, lit their smokes, and exhaled. The tobacco hit their bloodstreams and gave them head rushes, and they admired the night sky with blurry vision.

"I'm going to miss you, brother," Jonas ashed his cigarette and stared at the pale red moon.

"You scared?" Johnson scratched his trimmed beard and leaned up against the guard railing.

"Of course, I'm scared," said Jonas. "I'm not scared of dying, though. I'm afraid of failing to find Drake. I'm afraid I'm not talented enough to match shot-for-shot with the Hellite geniuses."

"Fuck that," Johnson said rather loudly. "Fuck that. You're a fucking champion. Undefeated, killed a fucking Maldread, and talented as any of those punks. Jonas, you've got it backward. It's them who should be worried about you."

"Jesus. I'm not that great," Jonas nearly coughed on his cigarette. "You don't get it. Some of these kids have been training since they were toddlers, with True Sinners guiding them at every step. They come from influential families who protect and provide for them, all while letting them get away with whatever shitty choices they make. Johnson, don't you see? These people were born and raised to be great and to be the next generation to run the world," Jonas shook his head and looked into his friend's eyes. Johnson looked drunk, unfazed, and smiling.

"They may be great, but you'll be a legend. Go through with the old man's training, and give it all your effort. Simon and I didn't carry your ass through the Hurts gang for nothing, did we? No, we didn't. When you get to the Dark Fly Auctions, or whatever, you kill the people who deserve to die, spare those who deserve to live and set free everyone they have in cages. Do you understand me, little brother?" Johnson gently poked Jonas' chest.

"I do," Jonas felt himself go quiet because it was the first time anyone had called him little brother since Drake. "You think of me as a little brother?"

"Best brother I ever had. Also, the only brother I've ever had," Johnson chuckled and tossed his cigarette into the ashtray. "Now, stop worrying so goddamn much, and let's try and sober up before Simon gets back with his woman. I don't want to give off a shitty first impression," Jonas shook his head, smiled, and followed behind his drunk friend. The two headed to the game room and met with Pete, Bannji, and Ralph.

"No more drinking til Simon gets back," Jonas took Ralph's glass and drained the contents. "We want to make a good first impression," he laughed and swayed. "Maybe, I can use Sin to clear up the alcohol," Jonas concentrated on his Sin Scars and felt connected with his Pride, then he watched them hum and glow brightly. 'Heal me. Remove the alcohol from my body,' Jonas closed his eyes, exhaled a deep breath, and when he opened his eyes, his vision began to clear, his head was less dizzy, and he felt sober.

"Don't tell me that worked," Pete's one good eye bulged.

"It worked," Jonas' tone sounded normal, his reddish face had cleared, and his eyes were no longer bloodshot.

"Well. You might fail the Sin Assessment, but at least you'll never have to worry about a hangover," Pete shook his head and went back to his game of pool. "Fuckin' Mr. Do-It-All," he grumbled.

"I'd like to think clearing my bloodstream of alcohol poisoning isn't enough to pass the Sin Assessment," Jonas grabbed a pool stick and began chalking the tip. "Ralph, you and me at that table, just like old times," Ralph grunted, grabbed his pool stick, and followed Jonas.

"I still owe you for kneeing my skull in."

"Well, since I won the last round, you rack them," Jonas chuckled and pushed the balls toward Ralph, who shook his head and began wracking them into the triangle.

"Are you nervous about tomorrow?"

"Not at all," Jonas shrugged as he readied his cue to break. With one swift crack, he sent the white ball flying across the table, where it crashed with a satisfying sound. The balls went shooting in all directions, and a couple found themselves in the pockets and out of sight. "Stripes. Yellow nine, top-right pocket," Jonas struck the white ball, which hit the striped yellow nine-ball, and went into the pocket he called.

"Nice shot," said Ralph, but after watching Jonas score a few more balls, he realized the young man played him like a fiddle. "Where'd you learn to shoot pool, fucker?"

"My brother taught me," before they knew it, all the striped balls were off the table. "Eight ball, side pocket," Jonas pointed to the pocket with his pool stick, struck the white ball, and watched it sink. "Good game."

"What game?" Ralph shook his head. "I didn't even get a turn. I'm breaking this time."

"I'm only going to ask one more time. Are you sure you don't want to come with me? Like it or not, you've got the talent to be a True Sinner," Jonas felt it would be cool to have company during his adventure to find the S.S. Sinner.

"Not happening, buddy. I appreciate the offer, but my dream is to settle down and buy a farm," Ralph stared at his Sin Scars. "These hands were made for chores, not killing people."

"Are you serious?" Jonas watched as Ralph sunk the white ball and his turn was over.

"Shit. Of course, I'm being serious. I come from a long line of farmers, believe it or not."

"Do they even have farms in Hell? I thought everything was fucking modern and industrial or whatever," Jonas knew that technology in Hell was far more advanced than anything on Earth.

"No idea," Ralph shrugged. "Nothing stopping me from getting a plot of land, planting some crops, and raising some livestock, right? Guess that means farms still exist."

"Fair point," Jonas took his turn. "I wonder if I could use Sin to play pool?"

"Don't even think about it," Ralph pointed a sausage-like finger at Jonas, who smiled while his Sin Scars began to glow. Jonas focused his Pride and thought about making the best shot he'd ever made. He picked four of his balls stacked at the edge of the table, called a pocket for each, then struck the white ball.

"No fucking way," Ralph watched as each of them went shooting off, almost randomly, but bounced in a way that sent them directly on course for their called pocket. However, the solid purple four-ball missed its mark by a tiny margin, while the other three sank and disappeared from view. "That's too bad," Ralph chuckled while a bead of sweat formed on his forehead.

"Almost," Jonas furrowed his brow in thought. He wondered if he lacked concentration, didn't desire it enough, or perhaps he couldn't influence so many moving parts.

"Eight ball, corner pocket," Ralph took his shot and won the round. "Don't get so cocky with Sin Sorcery. Try and do too much, and you'll end up losing."

"I don't mind losing," Jonas shrugged. "I'll keep coming back for another round until I get it right. Remember?"

"Yeah, I do," Ralph smirked. "Best two out of three? I won't underestimate you this time."

'You're a good man, Ralph. I'm glad I met you."

"I'm glad I met you too. I got my head kicked in, lost all my friends, helped kill my former boss, then escaped slavery by the skin of my teeth. Because of you, I'm not dead or still a lackey for a lesser man. So, thanks," Ralph stuck out his fist, and Jonas pounded it.

Tower of Hell: Caged and Confused, Book 1, Chapter 127

Jonas looked up into Yuki's eyes, and they stared at each other while trying to burn that moment into their retinas; they could recall it at any time. Jonas felt sad that their feelings were different from before and that their relationship was over, but he was happy that they ended on good terms and remained friends. He and Yuki had begun their relationship on the promise of freedom, and they had fulfilled that promise.

"My crusade and your hunt," Jonas repeated. "That sounds kind of cool. I hope we both succeed. So, you'll accept Phillip's offer?"

"I am. I'm going to ask for some kind of real estate: a large house or apartment. That way, I can start my home for girls," Yuki crossed her arms. "Among other things, like a fancy hellphone."

"That's a great idea. Have you thought of a name?"

"Sunrise Sanctuary," her cheeks turned pink. "I came up with it last night."

"Like the rising sun, right? Japan?" However, Yuki shook her head.

"Because the sun will eventually rise, and I hope my sanctuary becomes the light that brightens the darkness for the women living with me."

"Oh, that's much better," Jonas smiled and stood up. "I'll visit your Sunrise Sanctuary once I find my brother."

"Sounds like a plan," she opened her arms, and Jonas accepted the embrace. They didn't hug for long because he wanted to keep things professional, and Yuki felt the same.

"It's crazy to think we finally made it. You approached me with the faintest hope that I'd be the one to help break you out, and your instincts were correct. Congratulations, Yuki," Jonas left the hug and stepped back.

"You did all the heavy lifting. I won't take credit for your hard work. Congratulations to you as well," Yuki turned toward the door. "I'm heading downstairs to wait for dinner. I'll see you down there?"

"In a minute," Jonas smiled and watched her depart. He didn't want to leave the room yet because he was still experiencing strong emotions that made him feel between wanting to cry and smile. He took a deep breath, steadied himself, and went downstairs, where the rest of his fellows had gathered at the large dining room table.

"Let's get this party started," Johnson held a beer in the sky and looked over at a pretty maid. "Miss, do you think you could grab some more drinks?" She nodded and went to the kitchen with Mr. Ken following behind her.

"I'm glad you're feeling at home, Erik," Phillip sat at the head of the table in his massive wooden chair custom-made to fit his bottom. "I'm happy you're all enjoying yourselves. This mansion hasn't been this lively since Jonas first came here two years ago. So, I've called one of my contacts in the IT department of Prey Studios, a mobile app development company. Hopefully, he'll be able to help get a lead on some of your missing loved ones," and there was a murmur of excitement and confusion from Simon, Pete, and Bannji.

"Prey Studios?" Simon tilted his head. "How exactly will that help?"

"Prey Studios is the company behind Hell Works, the number one employment application in all the Overworld."

"Oh, that app," Jonas looked unimpressed. "That's where I found the modeling gig that ended with me being drugged and sent to Dark Fly auctions."

"Believe it or not, that's a rare occurrence. Most of the jobs are legitimate. You just need to pay attention to their rating and reviews. Anyway, my contact works in the IT department and has access to online data belonging to those who've tried signing up for jobs. In other words, I need a little background information on the people you're looking for, and then I can have my contact cross-reference that information with Hell Works database. If your loved ones ever tried applying for a job on that application, I'll be able to find more information about them."

"My wife is Felicia Anne Rhule, and her maiden name is Girard. She'll be thirty-three this year," said Simon, and they could tell he was excited.

"Got it," Phillip took out a massive hellphone and began typing the information. "Anyone else?"

"Garuka Keza Balewa is my wife. She's forty-five this year," said Bannji. "My daughter is named Keza Rose Balewa, and she's twenty-eight years old."

"Garuka and Keza," mumbled Phillip as he typed away. "Got it. Who else?"

"My wife's name is Jenesha Lin Ingram, and she'd be sixty-seven years old by now. It's been so long since I've seen her, and I'm not even sure she's still alive at this point," Pete wanted to find her but knew it was likely she had already moved on. "We said, 'til death do us part,' and she might've taken it literally. If you could find her, I'd be grateful. However, if she's already remarried, just leave her be."

"Understood. It's much easier to find people who've recently died, but I'll have my contact search for them and see what he digs up," Phillip put his phone away and grabbed his head-sized goblet. "Jonas, I heard you're leaving soon."

"Three days. I'm meeting up with my old master, and he'll take me to the Sin Assessment after three months of training."

"If he's a fully certified Sinner, it doesn't surprise me that he knows how to get a ticket for the S.S. Sinner. You're sure you can trust him?"

"Relatively sure," Jonas smirked. "He's my best chance, so I don't have a choice. If you or Amberlee have more valuable information, now's the time to share."

"Honestly, I've shared everything I know. Amberlee?" Phillip looked over at his wife.

"Nothing. I'm sorry," Amberlee shook her head. "Outcasts aren't taught much about the world of Sinners. It's unfortunate but true."

"Fair enough," Jonas turned his head and caught a whiff of food from the kitchen door swinging open. From the doors came a dozen staff members carrying drinks and trays of food, which they placed in front of each guest. They removed the lids and revealed the contents of their feast: tacos, spaghetti, a roast pig, fried chicken, and an assortment of delicious-looking sides. Not only that, but they brought bottles of expensive wines and pitchers of Blood Light ale.

"These are for you, Sir," Mr. Ken handed Jonas a new pack of Diamond Doubles cigarettes. "You might not know this, but Sinners often rely on cigarettes, cigars, drugs, and booze to supplement their Sin. It's a little bit of bad that adds up over time if you know what I'm trying to say," the head butler smiled from beneath his groomed mustache.

"I understand. Companies make expensive alcohol and cigarettes that can supplement a Sinner's power over time. I doubt it makes a huge difference, but it might add a little extra firepower after a few years, right?" Jonas asked, and Mr. Ken nodded.

'Dig in," Phillip gave his blessing, and the rest of the party filled their plates and cups. They didn't talk between eating and drinking because everyone was hungry and not in the mood to chat. However, after their plates had been scraped clean and everyone's bellies were practically bursting, the conversation picked back up when Simon addressed Phillip about the job offer.

"So, Phillip. I've decided to stay and accept your job offer. My Sin is Sloth, and although my physical powers are good, My talents in analyzing information and problem-solving are much better."

"I'm happy to hear that, Simon," Phillip used a towel-size napkin to wipe his mouth. "What would you want for compensation?"

"An apartment, a vehicle, hellphone, and help to find my wife."

"Done and done," Phillip readily agreed.

"I'm the same," said Johnson. "I'm willing to shack up with Simon if the apartment is big enough," it wasn't just those two because eventually, everyone at the table told Phillip they wanted to accept his offer and what compensation they'd like in return.

"I own an apartment building not far from here, and there's enough room for all of you. Right now, I'm using it to house my security guards. As for vehicles, exotic cars are out of my price range, but I have a good selection of Cerberus Shadows: a standard car that's quite durable and popular among security guards and detectives."

"Wait, exotic vehicles are out of your price range?" Jonas furrowed his brow. "That's surprising."

"The cheapest exotic vehicle off the top of my head is nearly fifteen million Sin Stones. You can buy an entire apartment building for one million. Companies don't mass produce. After all, they require brilliant engineers to build because they're all electric and self-efficient and are not in much demand because non-Sinners or poor people will just have theirs stolen."

"That makes sense," Jonas nodded. "Either way, as long as you give them apartments, hell phones, and a vehicle, I can guarantee they'll do good work for you. There aren't many people in Sun City that'll mess with them."

The first of Jonas' last three nights was quite eventful because of all the drinking, smoking, and partying. They played cards and beer pong while Johnson got frisky with a maid, and Jonas noticed the two slip upstairs while everyone else was distracted.

It was fun. More fun than Jonas had in a very long time. He wasn't sulking about the deaths of his friends: he was celebrating their life and sacrifice. He and Simon would clink drinks and hug, Ralph would bang the table before chugging beers, and Pete smoked huge cigars while Theo and Yuki took turns talking about their favorite sweets over a glass of wine. Bannji hadn't been friends with them for long, but eventually, he felt more comfortable with them and opened up. He showed them Rwandan drinking games and familiar chants that reminded him of home, and his new friends happily obliged in the culture sharing.

That night, Jonas had no drive to pursue any sexual relationships. He and Yuki had ended on platonic terms. At the same time, he was no longer interested in Amberlee because they had ended things awkwardly, and he felt their relationship had been a bit nonconsensual and inappropriate. Jonas had been feeling asexual since the events with the Maldread, the death of Ahmed and Jaden, the refusion with Pride, and the recalling of his tragic childhood filled with sexual and physical abuse.

He hadn't told anyone about the awakening of his memories because he felt they wouldn't understand and would ask too many questions. Questions that he hadn't the energy or emotional patience to answer.

The more alcohol that entered his bloodstream, the more his impulsive thoughts would break through his psyche and try to disturb his mood. The scenes of him with Mr. Goldstein tragically burned themselves into his retinas, and he tried his best to blink them away, but the impulsive thoughts were winning the battle.

"I need some air," Jonas stood up rather suddenly because his heart was racing, and his anxiety was making him feel over-stimulated with all the loud noises around. He grabbed his beer and cigarettes and made for the door to the terrace.

"Jonas, are you okay?" Simon could tell something was wrong.

"Just fine," Jonas lied and opened the door. "I'm just going to go for a cigarette. I'll be back in a few," the door closed behind him, and his companions gave each other looks full of concern and confusion.

"Do you think it's just about Ahmed and Jaden?" Simon furrowed his brow and mumbled toward Yuki.

"Probably. However, do you remember Jonas saying that he awoke memories from the past or whatever? That was very strange, and he never elaborated."

"I assumed he was lying," said Ralph. "That whole sequence with him killing the Maldread, coming back from the dead, and awaking memories was sketchy, and I think he's hiding things."

"Right?" Johnson entered the room at the right time, his clothing was disheveled, and he had lipstick on his face and neck. "All of a sudden, Jonas is a Hellite? What's that all about?"

"I think Jonas is entitled to his secrets, right?" Yuki gave them a knowing look that told them to back off. "If he's telling the truth about remembering things from his childhood, they might've been traumatizing. Let's just be respectful of his privacy."

"Don't get me wrong," said Simon. "I agree, and I'm not going to push him. I'm just worried, that's all," the rest of the group nodded in agreement.

"He'll open up to us if he's ready. If not, let's just make his last few days great for him, and we'll hope his heart heals over time," Theo was usually quiet but had an idea that Jonas was dealing with something difficult. Theo understood because he'd gone through great turmoil before coming out with his sexuality. "He needs a bit of space, lots of love, and open ears if he asks for them."

"Well said, Teddy," Johnson smiled and downed another beer. "Let's leave it at that."

Outside, Jonas was on his second cigarette and was staring out at the dark, crimson garden hedges. He wasn't partial to the conversation inside and didn't care about their speculation. The reality of the memories was hitting him in full force, and they made him feel very dirty, uncomfortable, and alone. His foot was tapping the floor, and his hand tightly gripped the stone ledge as he continued to puff and exhale on his cigarette.

"Don't let it beat you," a little thought had made its presence known, and Jonas felt like it was his Pride speaking to him. "Embrace the pain, don't run from it."

Jonas wasn't afraid of physical pain but found himself anxious and confused when dealing with the injuries to his mind that wouldn't heal with Sin Sorcery. It took a few deep, steadying breaths, but eventually, Jonas regulated his heart and emotions.

"I'm better than this," he felt his Sin Scars glowing with Pride. "I'm stronger than this," he spoke his truth into existence. The world could beat and rape him endlessly, but he wouldn't break. Jonas' Pride refused to be destroyed by pedophiles and bullies.

He flicked his cigarette butt into the nearest ashtray and downed his drink. Determination and resolution filled his blue eyes, and he stopped fighting the intrusive thoughts and feelings and let them run as rampant as they wanted. He didn't care about seeing his former foster parents beat him senseless, nor about Mr. Goldstein touching him. He let the scenes replay themselves in his mind's eye, not fighting them, and within a minute, they vanished with no desire to continue bothering him.

Jonas slept very soundly that night, and his heart and mind were at peace for the first time since the Maldread incident. He awoke around noon, met his hungover friends for breakfast, and was surprised when Phillip Glatorius told them he had news from his contact at Prey Studios.

"Simon. My contact says that last year, Felicia Rhule, matching your wife's description, applied for a cleaning job with a wealthy business owner in Burningham City. It's a few hours from here," Simon's mouth dropped, and disbelief filled his expression.

"You're sure? How do you know?" Simon refused to become too invested in the news because it could be incorrect and would leave him brokenhearted and crestfallen. The deaths of his family and his separation from them was his biggest regret and the thing that weighed down his heart the most.

"Same age and name. Her profile on Hell Works stated she had prior experience as a secretary and went to school for administration at the University of Ohio."

"Oh my God," Simon dropped his fork and stared open-mouthed at Phillip. "You're not screwing with me, right?"

"No. I'd never do that to you. Simon, we found her," and everyone at the table began to smile as the realization hit them all. "I'm trying to contact her employer and praying she still works there. It's been a while, but hopefully, he'll answer my message later today."

"Felicia was a hard worker," said Simon, whose hands were shaking and unconsciously holding his breath. "She'd never get fired. Please, Phillip. You need to contact me as soon as her employer calls you. I'm begging you to reunite us," Simon's eyes were watering, and he did look desperate.

"Reuniting you with your wife was just one of my promises if you worked for my company," Phillip smiled and waved away Simon's pleading. "I left a message for him, and if he doesn't call by this evening, I'll call him again. If he still doesn't answer, I'll send a car to Burningham City and have my guys check to see if it's her."

"I'll go with them," Simon had a resolution in his eyes that told everyone he wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Sure," Phillip nodded. "If it comes to that, I'll be sure you're headed to her city tonight."

"I'm so happy for you," Jonas smiled brighter than he had in a long time. "Good things happen to good people, Simon. I know it's not guaranteed to be her, but I feel good about it. You both deserve to reconnect and reconcile," he touched Simon's shoulder.

"Thanks, Jo," Simon was still fighting tears but was wearing an excited grin. "I think it's her too. I'll stay here today while I wait."

"Not at all," said Jonas. "Your wife's more important than Pizza Slut."

"I know, but you're leaving tomorrow, right?" Simon sighed. "Today is our last day to hang out."

"Simon," said Phillip. "Go hang out with your friends. As soon as I have any news, I'll immediately call you and bring you home. You waiting here isn't going to change anything," and Simon saw the reason in what his host was saying.

"You're right. I was jumping the gun," said Simon. "Tonight, we celebrate Jonas' last day with us."

"Hopefully, tomorrow we'll be celebrating Felicia's return," Johnson grinned. "Until then, let's relax and have a great day. Though, I suspect Simon will be hard-pressed to relax."

It was a mark of how dreary the Hurts gang was because Jonas felt the littlest things around the house made him laugh or feel happy. Sunshine through the windows, chirping birds, wind blowing chimes, laughter, and even the burps from his friends. Something about the news about Felicia and the smile on Simon's face made Jonas feel like maybe there was light at the end of the tunnel. Something good had happened, and Jonas hoped they found Felicia and reunited her with Simon because it would mean his friend's happiness and make Jonas feel hopeful he could reunite with Drake. It was the first time in a very long time he felt hope.

The mood was considerably cheerful, and it lasted hours later. While Jonas and his friends dressed in regular clothing, groomed themselves, and prepared for a night out, that good mood persisted.

"Have fun, guys," Yuki waved them off at the door. Next to her stood Theo, who had no interest in going, and Phillip and Amberlee stood behind them, waving.

"We'll be back in a couple of hours," Jonas grinned as he prepared to step into the limo.

"Remember to call Jonas if you get any news," said Simon. "I don't have a hell phone yet."

"No worries," said Phillip. "Any changes in the situation, I'll call Jonas. Also, one of my guards is picking up a couple of hell phones for you and preparing a few other things. You'll all be situated before Jonas leaves. I promise."

Simon nodded, took a deep breath, and ducked his head into the limo. Jonas and the rest of the crew followed behind him. A few minutes later, the limo took off. The boys lounged on the benches, played unfamiliar music by Hell's musicians, and passed around beers. They laughed, yelled, and managed to have fun for the entire ride to their destination.

Thirty minutes later, the limo stopped outside a large and luxurious building. People wearing prison scrubs stood outside the building and stared nervously at the limo while people in the building wondered if it was prime time to pay their bills and leave. Big shots pulling up in a limo was usually a bad sign for commoners.

Jonas stepped out and saw the gray-bricked building, and there was a giant sign above the roof that said, 'Pizza Slut,' and next to it was a scandalous red-headed woman with pigtails holding two slices of pizza to block the view of her naked breasts.

"Oh, Pizza Slut," began Pete with misty eyes. "How I've missed you."

"I'm going to be honest, Pete," Jonas shook his head. "I didn't think this was a real place. I was wrong," it was the second time Jonas had been to such a public place, and Crispy Screams wasn't as busy as Pizza Slut.

"It's real," said Pete. "Get ready for the best slice of pizza you've ever had," they laughed and ignored the stares of the people in the parking lot and on the sidewalk.

"Mr. Ariel," a security guard stepped out. "We'll be waiting here for you all. The boss gave me the funds to pay for any expenses, so I'll take care of the bill when you're finished. Enjoy yourselves and have fun," he nodded, and Jonas thanked him.

"Let's go," Jonas turned to the front doors, and his fellows followed behind him. He pushed open the doors and found himself greeted by delicious smells, the raucous sound of men laughing, music playing in the background, and the voice of a pretty woman greeting them.

"Hello, handsome," the busty hostess was wearing a miniskirt and a red tube top with pepperonis where her nipples would be. "Welcome to Pizza Slut. My name is Carrie, and I'll be your hostess. How many will you be dining with?" Carrie blushed and smiled at their motley crew.

"Six," Johnson grinned. "Tonight's special. So give us a great table."

"Right this way," she marked off a table on her seating chart, grabbed a handful of menus, and led them down a path and into the main restaurant. The Pizza Slut uniform was very revealing, and Jonas could feel the gazes of his crew focused on Carrie's retreating, hourglass figure. As they passed through the restaurant, the various customers and waitresses all turned their heads to get a look at the men who took a limo to Pizza Slut, including a man with an eye patch, a giant, and a handsome youngster with flowing blonde locks.

Men wearing scrubs occupied most of the tables, but Jonas noticed a few groups of men wearing regular clothing, and his senses told him that a few of them had a bit of Sin lingering around them. Those men with the aura of Sin glanced over at Jonas, saw his Sin Scars, and mumbled on their breaths.

"You feel that?" Johnson turned and stared at the potential Sinners. "It's crazy knowing there are people like us hiding among the commoners. I can feel the killing intent."

"Oh, don't bother with them," Jonas looked unconcerned. "If they have a problem, it won't end well for them," the rest of their group nodded while Carrie stopped in front of a large corner booth.

"Samantha will be your server. Enjoy your meals, boys," she dropped off their menus, felt up Jonas' arm, winked at him, and left their group while swinging her hips.

"I'm not going out with you anymore," Johnson felt up Jonas' shoulder and rolled his eyes. "It's not fair."

"Envy doesn't suit you, Erik," Simon took his seat, and the rest of the boys followed. The restaurant was well-decorated, with warm lights and comfy seating, and it appeared the owner had put a lot of effort into his establishment.

"Hey, fellas," a pretty blonde came around the corner and greeted their table. "My name is Samantha, and I'll be taking care of you today."

Thank you to my Gold Patron, PandaLady12

Tower of Hell: Caged and Confused, Book 1, Chapter 126

"No cemetery?" Jonas visually expressed his confusion with furrowed brows. "I understand there's a reincarnation process, so Hell's traditions are probably different. However, there are probably billions of people in Hell. How do they all fit in crypts?" Since Jonas got to Hell, he had spent most of his time in a cage down in Little Wrath City, where his knowledge gained was about fighting and Sinning. His knowledge of the inner and outer workings of Hell was lacking, save the fact that he knew a little about wireless technology and plumbing.

"Most people don't know this because they don't care to ask, but the ground in Hell is efficient for digging if you get a specialist to do it for you. I came from Earth during the fifteenth century, but I know now that it's about eight thousand miles in diameter, and most of it is unreachable. You should also remember that Hell doesn't follow the same physics and structure as a planet. Dig deep enough on Earth, and you'll reach the other side. You can keep digging in the Overworld, but you'll never reach the end," George stopped outside two large oaken doors. His explanation made Jonas think of Little Wrath City and how amazing it was that an entire city was underground and that gangs had access to custom fortresses.

"What next?" Jonas asked.

"We put them in crypts that continuously expand deeper and deeper. I will be glad to explain anything about the process of death and reincarnation that any of you need. If it means helping you grieve and recover the losses of your companions, my knowledge is at your disposal," George bowed his head, and Jonas was happy to have met someone as kind as the funeral director.

"I'd like to know more," Jonas nodded. "We can start the service whenever you're ready," he and his companions were antsy to start, and the funeral director could see it in their shifty body language and anxious faces. Simon kept pulling at his tie while Ralph straightened his posture to look more mature, and they weren't the only ones being awkward.

"Of course. Just beyond this door are your companions. They were dressed, preserved, cared for, and placed in the finest coffins built with anti-rot technology. If we so wish, bodies in Hell have a very long decay period which we can extend almost infinitely. If you go down to the crypts and visit your companions, you can see them with their coffins closed or open. We will perfectly preserve their bodies, so it's up to your preference."

"Even after a hundred years?" Jonas asked.

"Even after a thousand," George smiled and began turning the handles to the two oaken doors. "Please, enter with me and join us as we mourn and celebrate the deaths of Ahmed Al Fallah and Jaden Jackson," he pushed the two doors open and revealed a beautiful and deathly quiet room with two black caskets at the end. There were rows of empty mahogany seats, and sunlight entered the room through stained-glass windows, which the creator had decorated with picture stories about demons who watched men with glowing hands fight each other to death. The stained glass stories were morbid and ancient, and Jonas discovered they told tales of Sinners and the government.

Very quietly, their group followed Director George until they reached the coffins and their hearts stood still. Jaden and Ahmed looked like two carved marble statues, handsome but lifeless. Whatever work the funeral home did was quite incredible because neither of them seemed to have any permanent damage to their bodies. They wore black suits and had their arms crossed over their chest as they rested in their coffins. Jonas could see the dull and faded tattoo-like Sin Scars, which showed no signs of life or light—they would never glow again.

"Ahmed," Jonas bit his lip and looked down at his old friend, who seemed younger than ever. His tanned skin was smooth and glossy, and his previously ashen hair was much darker and fuller while they had trimmed his beard and removed the grays. He looked clean, young, and not quite like himself. Jonas imagined that the way the funeral home had immortalized Ahmed must've resembled his youthful self back on Earth during his early life.

Jonas reached over and touched his hand and was surprised to find it was cold as ice and felt lifeless. "Dead," he whispered, and tears began to build up in the corner of his eyes. Simon wrapped an arm around Jonas' shoulder and held him in a firm hug while gently patting his shoulder.

"I'm sad today, Jonas. However, I want you to remember that Ahmed wouldn't be sad. If he knew we escaped and had bright futures, he'd be smiling right now and saying that the sacrifice was worth it," Jonas nodded at Simon's words because he knew them to be true even if he didn't like hearing them.

"I just wish Ahmed had a chance at a happier life, Simon," Jonas shook his head and wiped the tears rolling down his cheeks. "He lived so miserably for so long. It wasn't fair that his life on Earth had ended prematurely and tragically, and then his life in Hell was full of slavery and abuse. I wanted him to step onto the ground and feel the sun on his face and the wind blowing his hair. I wanted him to step outside with his new-found powers and say, 'I'm back,' and he could use his Sin to take the life he always dreamed about."

"I know, Jo," Johnson was teary-eyed as he wrapped an arm around Jonas' free shoulder. "He kept saying he wasn't long for the modern world, but I never really believed him. I think Ahmed could've figured it out, you know? He would have made one hell of a security guard," Johnson's voice choked as he fought back more tears.

"Thank you, Ahmed. Because of your sacrifice, Simon is still with us, and we escaped our cages," Jonas began his final eulogy. "Thank you for everything you taught me as a friend and a mentor. Thank you for giving me the tools to survive in this harsh world, and I hope to make you proud. Goodbye, Ahmed. With the lease on life that you've given me, I'll try not to make so many wasted movements," Jonas smiled through sniffles and slipped out of his friend's embrace.

"That was nice," Yuki was next to Jaden's coffin, and she gently patted Jonas' shoulder as he came to stand next to her.

"Thank you. I just said the things that came to my heart, you know?" Jonas stared at Jaden's sleeping face, which contained no wrinkles or any trace of age. Something about his corpse made Jonas feel anxious like he was in the coffin instead. They were both talented, similar in age, and had bright futures ahead of them, and these similarities made Jonas feel like they could have easily switched places. "Jaden didn't deserve to die. I regret letting him take the reins during our effort to kill the monster."

"Me too," Yuki wasn't crying at their deaths because she was too hardened and barely knew them, but seeing Jonas upset had made her feel choked and vulnerable. "Part of me knew he'd fail, but I was so desperate for our survival that I convinced myself he'd be strong enough to stab the creature while we held it down. However, there's no medicine for regret, and we need to respect Jaden's sacrifice just as much as our own. Right?" Jonas wrapped his arm around her and hugged her close. The smell of her hair entered his nostrils and brought feelings of warmth and comfort, while feelings of her soft skin against his made him like butter melting in her embrace.

"I'm sorry, Yuki. I haven't been a good friend to you these past two days," Jonas' voice was barely audible to anyone but her. "Tonight, I'd like to talk about us."

"Okay," she nodded while pressing her cheek against his chest. A moment later, they pulled apart, and Jonas prepared to say his final goodbyes to Jaden.

"I could've seen us being best friends or brothers in another lifetime. You remind me of what a man should be: strong, courageous, and likable. When you reincarnate, Jaden, I hope you become a baseball player and fulfill every dream you ever dreamt. You sacrificed yourself for us to have a chance at life, and I'll try and live up to that. Thank you, brother. Sleep well," Jonas wiped the last of his tears away and stepped back from the group. "I need some fresh air. I'll let you guys say your final goodbyes," his friends nodded and could see that he wanted some alone time.

"Do you mind if I join you?" George's friendly smile came into view, and Jonas nodded without meaning to. "Maybe, I can offer some answers to you," the two of them left the service room and made their way down a hall, out a back door, and into a small garden.

"Can I smoke here?" Jonas pulled out his pack from the night before.

"Go ahead," George laughed. "You probably won't find a single no-smoking sign in Hell. As you know, this place isn't big on rules," he took a seat on a metal bench and watched as Jonas lit a cigarette and exhaled smoke. "Did you have something you want to talk about, Jonas?"

"Not really. I was a bit curious about death and reincarnation, but I can see now that it's pointless," Jonas paced around the garden, smoking and staring at the various plant life.

"You know, plant life in Hell has crimson chlorophyll, and that's one of the reasons everything is so red. From the grass to the stems of plants and even seaweed at the bottom of the oceans. Everything we see is the color of blood."

"The sun is white, so why is the sky so red?"

"I'm no expert," said George. "However, I believe the sky is red because the vast, infinite ocean is red. It's a type of reflection or something."

"That makes sense," Jonas exhaled a breath of smoke and flicked his cigarette. "I don't understand Hell. What's the fucking point?"

"Oh?" George tilted his head quizzically. "What part of all this is confusing you the most?"

"Why do people even try?" Jonas narrowed his eyes and stared angrily at a red bush. "They're sent to Hell with nothing but the scrubs on their back and a piece of junk Hellphone that's no use. They'll never find their families. They'll live in fear for all eternity, and I guarantee they'll be kidnapped, tortured, and trafficked. Hell, it's more than likely going to happen multiple times as it did to me. It's an eternity of misery, so why does everyone follow the rules? Why isn't it chaos and madness all around us?"

"That's a heavy question to answer," George nodded enthusiastically. "I think people like me out-populate the world's jerks, and the people like me want peace, quiet, and some semblance of normalcy. I come to work every day because it makes me happy. I like connecting with others and sharing in their pain because it reminds me of goodness and the importance of being kind to others. It's easy to turn your back on what is good, and this job reminds me to always lend a helping hand to those around me. Does that answer your question?" Jonas narrowed his brow and looked confused.

"No. I don't understand."

"Then let me simplify. This world contains more people like me than you care to realize. All of us wish to be good and peaceful. Some of us have a more difficult time than others, but in the end, we just desire to provide a humble life for ourselves and keep out of trouble. Does that clarify things for you?"

"I've dealt with so many shitty human beings that I forgot what it's like to deal with everyday people," Jonas felt like his icy heart had melted just a bit. He thought of the billions of humble people who worked and tried to survive in the Outlands. None of them knew about Sin, but they still believed in some sense of normalcy, so they didn't dwell in wicked deeds or disgusting acts. They dreamt of reuniting with their loved ones, making money, and having some control over their fate. They didn't want to live in fear or suffer for all eternity.

"Don't ever forget about kindness, Jonas. It will always beat hate. Always, even if it doesn't seem like it."

"You haven't seen the things I've seen, Mr. George," Jonas thought of Garth, who deserved no kindness and reaped the karma he had sown. "Kindness isn't always the best option. There are monsters out there who abuse, rape, torture and kill for fun. They traffic teenagers, sell women in auctions to be playthings and treat men like slaves. Do they deserve kindness?"

"Not at all," George waved off Jonas' sudden outburst like it was of no offense. "Kindness isn't always for the other person, Jonas. Showing kindness is good for your soul too. If you only wish to be good to those you deem deserving, so be it. I don't blame you for being unforgiving and unsympathetic to the terrible folk who dirty our afterlife. You should cherish kindness too, less you become like the monsters you hate. They, too, forgot the feeling of goodness. That's all I'm trying to say,"

"Cherish kindness, or I'll become like them?" Jonas whispered aloud, and he stepped on his cigarette. "I might understand. George, when will Ahmed and Jaden come back? What will they be like?" Jonas wondered what the kind-hearted funeral director could tell him about reincarnation.

"Now, I can't speak for the other floors of Hell. I only know about the rules and regulations of the Overworld. We call them Reborn: people who have died and gone through Hell's reincarnation process. When a person dies, they'll leave their body behind and enter the process. No one knows how long it takes—it could be hours, or it could be years. What we know is the deceased will eventually reappear somewhere in the Outlands. Now, there are a few questions that need answers. When we die in Hell, are we rejudged after death? That is an age-old question that only those in the government probably know. What do you think?" George stared at Jonas while patiently awaiting an answer.

"I would say no," Jonas furrowed his brow while recalling past conversations with Old Louie and Phillip Glatorius.

"Oh? Why is that?"

"I heard that the Reborn can get their memories back if they were Sinners and achieve their original strength from their previous life. If this is the case, rejudging them and sending them to the Underworld would mean they have a good chance of becoming a Sinner again, right? That would defeat the purpose of a fresh start. Also, Phillip Glatorius told me about reincarnation and how it makes cruel people forget their evil ways. It's a new life for both the victim and the perpetrator."

"Impressive. I don't know about Sinners, but you might be onto something. Regardless, the Reborn will eventually appear somewhere in the Outlands. I met one before. His name was Jackson Hart. Poor lad couldn't remember anything personal, but he knew his name and seemed to have retained some of his former personality. He was cheeky, sarcastic, and loved to flirt and pursue women. Eventually, he took off east to work for a company. Good kid,"

"So Ahmed and Jaden will remember their names and have some of their old personality?" It made Jonas feel just the tiniest bit better.

"That is the case with the Reborn. It's a mysterious process that we understand very little," George nodded. "Any more questions?"

"No," Jonas doubted George knew anything about the other floors or the Sin Assessment. "Thanks, George."

"My pleasure. I'll see you back inside," George stood up from his bench, bowed his head, and returned through the doors and back toward the funeral. Jonas collected his thoughts and eventually returned to the funeral service, where his friends were talking in hushed tones and finishing their final goodbyes.

"Jonas," Simon smiled at the sight of his friend. "Are you ready to close the caskets? I think we've all had a chance to say goodbye," his words made Jonas' heart skip a beat due to anxiety.

"Yeah, I think I'm ready to go. Mr. George, we can come to visit them, right?"

"Of course. I'll let you go down to the crypts anytime you come in, and we'll bring you right to their resting spot," George smiled and gently began to lower the top half of each coffin to enclose them. A few moments passed, and Jonas could no longer see the faces of his departed companions. He sighed and faced his companions.

"Let's go. I want to drink my face off, eat til my stomach explodes, and smoke till I'm coughing up a lung," Jonas' companions seemed to be in the same mood as they nodded their heads and murmured agreement.

They thanked George, who shook hands with each of them while wishing them good luck with their ventures, and made their way back to the limo while feeling like they had left something behind.

While Jonas was riding in the limo, he checked his phone and saw that it was the tenth of March, and he had only three days before he met with Old Louie.

"So, I've got something to tell you all," he sipped a beer, and the quiet conversations died as everyone turned to see what the news was. "I'm leaving. Last night I called my old master, and we've somewhat reconciled things. He's taking me to finish my training, and then we'll head to the Sin Assessment, which begins in June."

"Are you sure you can trust him?" Simon looked concerned. "Didn't he sell you to the Hurts gang?"

"Believe it or not, it was only part one of my Sinner training," Jonas shook his head and gave a self-deprecating smile. "Old bastard thought being a slave would toughen me up and unlock my potential."

"What a fucking sadist," Johnson looked rather impressed. "I'm glad he's not my teacher. When are you leaving? June-ish?"

"Three days," Jonas saw the fear, panic, and confusion in their expressions, and it saddened him more than he already was.

"That soon?" Yuki looked shaken and stared down at her glass of wine in thought.

"I need part two of my training to take the assessment. The old quack says I'm not ready to take on the Hellite Sinners who'll be on the ship. I also need a ticket, which I assume is difficult to find. I'm meeting him on the thirteenth," Jonas chugged back the rest of his beer and lit a cigarette. "I wanted to let you all know now to give you time to process."

"Sounds like we have a lot to do in these next three days," Pete smiled and held his drink up. "I'm accepting Phillip's offer, so we'll be taking the first steps of our next journey. Ralphy, you're accepting too. Right?"

"That's right," Ralph nodded at Jonas. "I'm going to ask for a house, car, and hellphone."

"You deserve the entire employee package, and I know Phillip will offer it," Jonas chuckled and gave him a thumbs up. "I'm not leaving until I know you all have a place to stay and the resources to take care of yourselves. Once I know you're all set up, I'll leave."

"I want to go somewhere fun, too," said Johnson. "Let's go to the bar or a restaurant. I've never been anywhere nice before."

"Pizza Slut," Pete thumped his armrest. "Good food, hot women—sorry, Yuki," he realized his mistake.

"No worries," she looked unperturbed. "While a restaurant dedicated to degrading women and serving pizza sounds like a great place to send off your friend, I think I might pass."

"Fair enough," Pete shrugged and sank back into his chair, but his one good eye looked pleadingly toward Jonas and the rest of the boys.

"Sure, Pete," said Jonas. "Tomorrow we'll go to Pizza Slut," the mouths of all the men in the limo—not including Theo or Jonas, were slightly curved at the prospect of beautiful, half-naked women serving them food. The limo continued back to the Glatorius mansion, and it wasn't long before they stepped out of the vehicle.

Phillip and Amberlee hadn't come to the funeral because they wanted Jonas and his companions to have some privacy, but they both looked well-dressed and happy as they warmly welcomed them back home.

"How did it go?" Phillip's massive hand swallowed Jonas' hand as they shook.

"Just beautiful. Thank you, Phillip," Jonas' eyes were a bit swollen from crying, but he shook back his shoulder-length golden hair and smiled as brilliantly as he could.

"Not a problem. It was last minute, but George is an old friend of mine, so I knew he'd slip your friends into an opening."

"George is a good man, thanks for introducing us."

"Of course. Is everyone hungry? The kitchen staff is working hard and preparing something delicious for you all," Phillip beckoned them inside, and Jonas caught sight of Mr. Ken, the head butler, who smiled and nodded.

"My condolences for your loss, Mr. Ariel. I hope the service went well."

"Thank you. You better be ready for a late night because tonight I'm going to kick your ass at Devil's Deck," Jonas smiled and shook hands with Mr. Ken, who smiled broadly.

"As you wish."

The companions separated and went to their bedrooms to undress and unwind before dinner. Jonas looked at himself in the mirror and swore he'd get a haircut as soon as he hit the road with Old Louie because he felt like the long hairstyle had overstayed its welcome. He was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, when he heard a gentle knock at his door.

"Come in," he called out, and Yuki came into the room wearing a pink sweatsuit that must've belonged to Amberlee Glatorius.

"You look cute," Jonas chuckled, and Yuki shook her head.

"I can't complain about free clothing, even if it's not my style," she closed the door behind herself and took a seat on the bed next to Jonas.

"I assume you want to talk," Jonas gave her a knowing look, and she glared at him.

"You know I'm impatient. Just rip the band-aid off so I can stuff my face with food and drown my sorrows with wine."

"Well, okay," Jonas sat up and looked her in the eye. "I'm leaving."

"Obviously," Yuki nodded.

"You're not coming with me."

"You didn't even ask if I wanted to," Yuki furrowed her brow and gave him an accusatory look.

"Do you want to come with me?"

"No. Duh," Yuki smirked, and Jonas shook his head.

"You're such a butt. I'm leaving, and you're not coming with me. It might be years before I return, and I may die on my journey. With that said, I think it's better we end our romantic relationship and return to being friends. Just two friends."

"Agreed," Yuki smiled and clapped Jonas on the shoulder. "Long distance relationships aren't my thing. You know I love the hunt."

"This is going way easier than I thought it would."

"Did you think I'd break down and beg you to stay?" Yuki stood up from the bed. "You're pretty good, but not good enough for that. Jonas, don't feel bad because I knew this was coming from the first time we kissed. You've got big things ahead: sleeping with Hellite women and beating up assholes on the way to find your big brother. I'll stay here and try to make something of my life. My hunt was to convince you to help me escape, and it worked. Now it's time for me to chase my next prey, and it's time for you to continue your crusade."

Thank you to my Gold Patron, PandaLady12

Tower of Hell: Caged and Confused, Book 1, Chapter 125

Later that night, Jonas found himself on the front terrace of the Glatorius mansion, which nearly wrapped the entire building. A beautiful and auspicious blood-red moon shone upon the brightly-lit property. For most people, light brought feelings of security; however, Jonas was so used to shadow that he felt exposed and uncomfortable because he stood out from the darkness. He couldn't see any property belonging to the neighbors because of giant crimson hedges surrounding the mansion. The architects had also erected a massive metal fence on the Glatorius side of the shrubbery.

Jonas had a dull and gloomy look in his eye as he swirled an icy drink in one hand and flicked a cigarette in the other. The ashes blew away with the gentle breeze, and he brought the smoke to his mouth and sucked on the paper filter until his lungs were burning with a tickle of pain and pleasure.

With intrusive thoughts running rampant in his mind, Jonas had spent the last thirty minutes smoking and drinking while staring up at the fake moon in the seemingly-endless night sky. He could see the flickering lights of stars and galaxies, and he wondered what would happen if someone tried to take a spaceship to visit them. Would the person crash into a ceiling? Jonas assumed they would infinitely travel in place, never able to go anywhere but back to Hell. There was no universe beyond those stars because the night sky was an illusion. Jonas knew it was a colorful cage meant to bring feelings of familiarity to those who had come from Earth.

He thought about Mr. Ken's advice about his and Yuki's relationship. They had begun as friends, and Jonas knew staying as friends was a desirable conclusion. However, a bitter part of himself would miss the time shared and long for the intimacy and emotional tenderness they frequently had in the Hurts gang. Yuki was a strong and independent woman, and Jonas knew she wouldn't lose sight of her goal to follow him on a hopeless quest to find his brother. He sipped his drink and wondered if he would want her to follow, even if she wanted to. At first, Jonas would've said yes to himself; however, he found his heart longed for solitude, freedom, and the excitement of the unknown that awaited him.

"I don't love her," he whispered aloud, and the words materialized into truth. He didn't love Yuki; he wasn't committed to her, nor did he wish to spend the rest of eternity with her. It was a painful truth that tugged at his drunken heart, but he wasn't the kind of person that lied to himself.

Jonas exhaled another breath of smoke and knew that in no time at all, he would be alone and traveling the world without his friends or companions. Perhaps his journey wouldn't allow him to have love or friendship, and maybe his mission was one for a lone wolf.

Everyone else had already gone to sleep, and the servants on the night shift were quiet as mice as they scurried around: cleaning, securing, preparing, and whatever other chores they had.

Jonas took out his hellphone, opened up his text messages, and saw the message left by Old Louie. Jonas was indecisive about associating with the old quack, but no one else could answer his Sinner-related questions. His finger hovered over the call symbol and hesitated. What other source of information did he have besides what he learned from Phillip and Amberlee? His thumb pressed down on the touchscreen, and he put the phone to his ear. It rang for a time, and Jonas was unsure that Old Louie would answer.

"Why the fuck are you calling me at this hour?" The phone connected, and Old Louie's familiar raspy voice shouted through the speaker. "Goddammit, dumbass disciple. Call me back at a better time."

"Old bastard," Jonas felt his temper rising. "You told me to fucking call you. What could you possibly be doing that's so goddamn important? You have some explaining to do."

"Yes, I do," said Old Louie. "I need to explain these balls to your mouth. Hah!" The old monk cackled into the speaker, and Jonas was dangerously close to hanging up the phone. "Relax, little punk. You did a decent job against the beast. I'm impressed and should give my congratulations on escaping the Hurts gang. I should also give my condolences for your losses," Old Louie didn't sound very sorry, and his tone was emotionally triggering for Jonas' drunken state.

"How'd you know about the M—" Old Louie cut off Jonas before he could say anymore.

"Don't say the name, idiot. The government likes to watch the phones. This call is probably safe, but don't be wantonly saying things better spoken about in person. You never know who's listening in."

"Fine," Jonas rolled his eyes and bit his lip out of frustration. "Let's meet up and talk. I want to know why you sold me into slavery. I want to know more about that person we won't speak of, and I want to know more about the Sin Assessment."

"Want me to blow you too?" Old Louie sniggered. "Why should I tell you anything?"

"Because I'm your disciple, and you're my master. If that doesn't matter, then because you fucking owe me for everything you put me through."

"Didn't I tell you?" There was a pause after Old Louie asked his cryptic question.

"Tell me what?" Jonas was dangerously close to throwing his phone.

"That my training will be the harshest thing you ever went through, so much so that it will probably make you hate me? Does that ring a bell?"

"What are you trying to say?"

"Congratulations, stupid disciple. Part one of your training is over," Jonas felt his stomach somersault.

"You're lying. Brow told me you sold me to him to pay off your gambling debt."

"Completely true," Old Louie's voice became much more pleasant. "After Wolf cracked your melon, I spoke to that Sin Shadow and revealed my plan. He agreed we needed a harsh environment for practice because while Hellite brats get training from real Sinners, you needed a crash course in brutality, the terrible human nature, and the inconvenient truths of Hell."

"My training? Pride knew?" Jonas felt like a bucket of cold water had been splashed over him. "You sold me to Brow as part of my training?"

"Don't get so uppity," Old Louie could hear the accusation contained in Jonas' voice. "You fucking agreed to it, remember? I told you the training would be harsh, and you agreed to my conditions. All the bullshit you went through is on you for not thinking through your actions. I did my part, didn't I?" Old Louie had a way of making Jonas feel like an idiot. "I agreed to train you, and now you're a talented Sinner, and you're almost ready for the big test. You're welcome."

"You want me to thank you?" Jonas was speechless, and his hand hurt from clutching the phone so hard: he was surprised it hadn't broken yet. "I watched my friends die. Did you say you were watching me the entire time? Why didn't you step in when the creature showed up? You could have saved us."

"I'll be honest," Old Louie suddenly sounded embarrassed. "Sure, I could keep tabs on you from a distance, but you were down there for almost two years. I used one of my Original Sin abilities to keep tabs on your body: Patient Checkup. It lets me feel when my previous patients have taken a lot of damage or are near death. The day of your big break-out, I was taking a nap, and I woke up just after the beast had ripped out your heart, so I noticed it way too late. I might be an asshole, but I wouldn't have had you face such a vicious creature as part of your training. That's something I wouldn't wish on anyone," Jonas heard sympathy in the old man's voice for the first time. "I didn't want your friends to die, and you probably won't believe me, but you'll have more friends die on your journey to find your brother. If you don't like it, don't make friends."

"I don't understand," Jonas was at a loss for words. He felt betrayed, confused, and upset.

"You do understand," said Old Louie. "You're in denial of the truth. Be confident and snap out of it. Who cares what's real or unreal? You've got your Pride, and it's the only thing you need to be sure of because your Sin will never lie to you. Think about everything that happened to you down in the Hurts gang and everything you learned. You're a Sinner because you embraced your powers and subjected your will to others. Talent is great, but you'll have to play the Game of Hell if you want those Sin Scars. Jonas, you were more than ready to use your powers despite your innocent nature. You used those powers to find Drake, protect your friends, harm your enemies, and escape the Hurts gang for your freedom. Do you understand?"

Jonas was silent for a long awkward minute. He knew right away that Old Louie was correct about everything, but there was a bit of a disconnect between the old Jonas, who didn't want to be a Hellite or hurt others, and the new Jonas, who was willing to get his hands dirty for his mission and his Pride.

"Did you just call it the Game of Hell?" Jonas used humor to buy time for his two selves to reconnect.

"It's the truth. Hell is a game where the players play, and the spectators can only watch in horror. Which one are you?"

"A player, obviously," Jonas knew where Old Louie was leading the conversation.

"You played the game when you accepted your Sin Scars, and when you killed Wolf, there was no turning back. You're now a piece on the chessboard, but don't fret because it's much better than being a spectator."

"Who're the spectators?" Jonas furrowed his brow.

"They wear prison scrubs, go to work, and have no idea about the world of Hellites and Sinners. They end up in cages, as prostitutes, or in ditches. They don't even know they're spectating a game."

"That makes sense," Jonas nodded, and he felt like a student again, down in Little Wrath City, drinking and listening to his master teach him about Sinning. "So, what's the game? Why do we play, and when is it over?"

"It's never over. In the end, eternity and reincarnation are your only choices. Would you rather work a nine-to-five and stay home every day because you're afraid of the world, or would you rather be wealthy, powerful, and could go anywhere you want? Jonas, do you want to be a Commoner?"

"No," Jonas replied.

"Don't you see? You were born to be a Sinner. However, do you think your soft-ass Earth mentality would allow you the privilege of being talented and extraordinary? No, I needed to break you down into your four most important components: your Sin of Pride, Hellite bloodline, willpower, and physical talents. I put those ingredients into a boiling pot of hate, death, slavery, torture, and rape, and I watched as someone great stepped out of the pan and into the fire."

"I didn't strip myself of the person I used to be," Jonas argued. He understood Old Louie's point, and he even understood the reasoning behind the training. However, Jonas knew that his old self was still inside.

"Your old self didn't need to be stripped away. The old Jonas needed Hell to repeatedly beat him until he accepted that he was wrong about good and evil. The old version of you now understands that good and evil only exist when we wish them on others."

"There's no divine punishment for being evil, right? It's up to you whether you want to treat others before they treat you first?"

"Exactly. We, the Sinners, decide good and evil. God isn't going to punish you for being a bad boy. The only person who'll punish you is yourself and someone who wants revenge."

"I understand that now," Jonas re-lit his cigarette, which extinguished from being forgotten. "It's just me, my Sin, and my will."

"Are you still mad that I sold you to the Hurts gang?" Old Louie had a slightly provocative tone to his voice.

"Yes, fuck you. However, I think I'll get over it," Jonas smirked, and he could tell Old Louie was doing the same. "So, you made me go through Hell because I needed to be ready for what's to come?"

"Little punk, you're not ready for what's to come. The training you experienced was only part one and won't prepare you for the Sin Assessment, Sin City, or the Hell Challenge. You still need part two."

"Part one won't prepare me for anything?" Jonas was wondering if Old Louie had hit his head. How could he not be ready for at least the Sin Assessment with everything he had learned?

"Part one was about being no longer caged and confused. Well, are you?" Old Louie was blunt and to the point. "Are you stuck in a cage and ignorant of the truths of Hell?"

"I'm not," Jonas was more firm about that than any other topic they had covered. "I'm not that person anymore."

"That's good because part two of your training begins in a few days. Bury your friends tomorrow, lick your wounds, and say your goodbyes. We need to move soon if you want to make this year's Sin Assessment. It's taking place in June, so we only have three months to get you a ticket for the S.S. Sinner and prepare you to face the little monsters on that ship."

"That soon?" Jonas' heart skipped a beat, and he felt bewildered. "I can't believe it's March. I swear my birthday just passed."

"Eternity flies when you're stuck in a cage in the sewers of Hell. There are slaves in Little Wrath City who haven't realized that decades have passed since gangs enslaved them."

"So, what is the Sin Assessment exactly? How do I get a ticket?"

"One thing at a time. I'll explain more once you've finished your business and can meet me."

"When and where?" Jonas' confidence was improving, and his Sin Scars gently hummed with a red light. "Old bastard, name the time and place, and I'll be there."

"That's a great spirit, no student of mine will be a raging pussy. Meet me at Dark Fly Auctions on March thirteenth at eight o'clock in the evening."

"Dark Fly Auctions?" Jonas wondered what scheme Old Louie was planning. "Why would we go back there?"

"Idiot. You have unfinished business with that auction house, don't you? Revenge is a dish best served cold, and part two of your training starts with you getting vengeance against the pieces of shit who beat and enslaved a teenage boy. Don't be late, little punk," and the call was disconnected before Jonas could ask anything else.

Jonas tried calling back, but after two unsuccessful attempts, he gave up. Then, his hellphone rang with a notification, and a message from his calendar app came up.

'Old Louie wants to meet you at Dark Fly Auctions, March thirteenth, at eight pm. Do you accept it?' Jonas clicked the accept button, and it finalized their meeting. He downed his alcohol, extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray, and went back through the terrace doors and into the dimly lit entrance hall. When Jonas reached his bedroom, he stripped his clothes off and fell into bed.

That night Jonas had a dreamless sleep and awoke just before noon. He yawned, leaped out of bed, and went straight for the shower to clean off the smell of sweat, tobacco, and alcohol.

When he finished showering, he noticed a black suit hanging from the back of his bedroom door, and a note told him it was for a funeral service. He didn't put it on; he dressed casually and headed for the kitchen to greet the rest of his companions and hosts.

"Jonas!" Simon shouted while wearing an eager smile. "Did you see the size of these pancakes?" The servants had covered the table with trays of breakfast foods: bacon, sausage, ham, home fries, cereals, eggs, pancakes, waffles, and toast.

"I've had them. I made it through two before I tapped out. How did everyone sleep?" Jonas knew they didn't sleep well because nearly everyone was awake and at the table, excluding Theo.

"The bed was awesome," said Johnson. "However, I still feel like I have to sleep on high alert. It's like one of those gangsters is going to come in the room and start beating me with his metal baton," and the rest nodded in agreement.

"I slept okay," Yuki spoke softly. "I'm just so used to my old bed and the sewer smell that it was hard for me to adjust."

"That's reasonable," said Phillip Glatorius, who had a bit of pancake dangling from his mouth. "I'm glad you're awake, Jonas. I was waiting to discuss the events of the day. First, I managed to secure a small funeral for your two friends. I sent their bodies to the funeral house, and they are preparing them as we speak. The service will take place in a few hours, after which the limo will bring us back to my home."

"Thank you, Phillip," Jonas smiled at him while cutting into a big fluffy pancake. "That's amazing. I won't ever be able to repay you."

"No worries. It's the least I can do for all of you. I said I had a business opportunity I wanted to discuss, so I'll give you the rundown now. We can speak about the rest tomorrow," Jonas' companions lifted their heads and listened with great attention because they knew that conversation could be life-changing for them. "As most of you know, I run a security empire: Presidential Protection Services. We don't protect presidents, but we offer just as good as the Secret Service for the right price. Unfortunately, most of my staff are regular people who've gone through our training regiment, but only the captain of my services has any ability as a Sinner."

"Is it hard getting Sinners to work for you?" Jonas asked.

"Very much so," said Phillip. "They know that with a bit of knowledge, they can get as many benefits on their own. Fortunately, I have Toby. Although he isn't the most talented, he has been a strong and loyal employee, and I've rewarded him greatly. I'm saying all this to you because I want to hire you for my security company. I'm not just talking about wealth. I can offer anything you want."

"How about a place to start a business?" Asked Yuki.

"Easy. I have real estate all over Sun City. Whatever kind of business you want, I can give you the funds to start and run it," Yuki fell into contemplation.

"Are you able to help us find our families?" Pete crossed his arms and wore a skeptical expression.

"It's difficult but not impossible. There are methods people use to search for their loved ones, and I'll use any contact I have available and any resource I possess to help reunite you with them."

"What about the good stuff?" Johnson asked. "Money, clothing, a house, a car?"

"All of that comes with the job. You'll keep most of your income, and I'll provide company resources. We have apartments, cars, weapons, and anything else you'll need to start a life here in Sun City."

"So, how does it work?" Ralph looked skeptical. "We're not getting all this for free."

"No sir, you're not. You'll each be in charge of a security team who will follow you on jobs. I'll link you and your team with a client, you'll go and fulfill your duties, and I'll take thirty percent commission while you keep the rest. That's it. You will be responsible for representing Presidential Protection Services while fulfilling the agreement with the client."

"What kind of things will we have to do?" Simon looked eager to start. "I want to find my wife and build a safe life, so our daughter can come and live with us when she leaves the fifth floor."

"Protecting people, businesses, assets, etcetera. You'll have to be able to fight, be observant, and have a decent problem-solving ability. Feel free to decline jobs when offered, but the clients I recommend are always VIPs and elites, so they give excellent pay to protect their interests."

"I have a suggestion for you," Jonas didn't like the idea of them splitting up.

"What's that?" Asked Phillip.

"You should create two teams. Simon, Johnson, and Theo will be one, while Ralph, Pete, and Bannji will form the other."

"What about Miss Yuki?" Phillip tilted his head.

"She works alone, always," Jonas smiled at her. "She's stubborn as an ox but strong enough to take on most people in Sun City," and his words made her smirk.

"I'm stubborn as an ox?" She shook her head. "If I'm an ox, you're the whole damn barn," the ice between them had started to melt, and the rest of their companion's laughter helped.

"We can keep your friends in three teams if that makes you feel more comfortable," Phillip was willing to agree to most terms as long as it meant he got to employ six Sinners. "I'll even offer you benefits, Jonas. As a finder fee for bringing me such a good opportunity."

"I still owe you fifty thousand stones or something," Jonas shook his head. "This is just me paying you back. You don't owe me anything. How could you owe me after doing so much?"

"A few thousand stones, a warm bed, and some food is nothing compared to having a half dozen Sinners working for me. Before you leave on your journey, I'll take care of you. No arguing," Phillip saw that Jonas was going to disagree and put an end to it. "Anyway, we can discuss this tomorrow after you've mourned the loss of your friends. I just wanted to present the idea while Jonas was still with us and could offer you his advice."

"Thanks, Phillip," Jonas looked over at his friends. "I'll talk to them and give you your answer tomorrow." Though, by the look in their eyes, Jonas could tell they had already mentally accepted the job offer.

"Until that time," said Phillip. "Let's eat, and then we can dress and leave for the funeral."

The day wasn't as dreary as Jonas had expected. His companions weren't in good moods but weren't depressed either. It seemed most of them had seen enough bloodshed to the point that the deaths of their companions weren't enough to shake them for too long. It wasn't that they didn't love Ahmed or Jaden, but they were a group of hardened warriors who had each experienced a lot of loss in their two lifetimes.

Jonas had mixed feelings. He was still sad about his friends, but he avoided thinking about them because the intrusive thoughts in his brain preferred to visualize their blood-stained and mangled corpses. Ahmed's gaunt stare and Jaden's slit throat would flicker nonconsensually in his mind's eye and make him anxious and uncomfortable. It was less stressful for him to try and keep his mind on other things.

A few hours later, Jonas and his companions were dressed in black and stepping out of the limousine into the hot red sunlight of Hell. He'd never been to a funeral before, nor did he know how sad he should act or how the service would proceed.

They arrived at Bright Family funeral services, an old cobblestone manor with a large and beautiful garden. The director greeted them at the door and was a very gentle soul with a soft voice that made Jonas feel weak and sleepy.

"Phillip, thank you for coming. Please, join us inside," he wasn't an old man, but he sure acted like one. "I'm George, the director of this funeral home. I'm so sorry for your loss. Ahmed and Jaden have been well cared for, and you can see them whenever you're ready," George shook hands with each of them, and they returned the greeting. He led them inside the cobblestone manor, which the owners had decorated beautifully with marble floors and historical architecture blended with modern conveniences.

"I didn't see a cemetery in the garden?" Jonas asked. "Where are we burying them?"

"You must be from Earth," George smiled gently. "Here in Hell, we don't bury our dead in standard cemeteries. Instead, we put their bodies in coffins, and we lay those coffins in underground crypts."

Thank you to my Gold Patron, PandaLady12

Tower of Hell: Caged and Confused, Book 1, Chapter 124

The butler and maids came out from the kitchen doors carrying massive trays topped with colorful wine bottles and crystal beer mugs filled with blood-red liquid Jonas knew to be Blood Light, the most expensive brew in the Outlands. The workers surrounded the table and placed the drinks in front of the guests, who looked surprised.

"Is this?" Simon narrowed his eyebrow and stared at the scarlet mug in front of him.

"Blood Light," said the Butler. "It's the best brew in all the Outlands. I've taken a keg out of storage," the Butler's words made most of them give incredulous stares at the mug in front of them. It didn't shock Jonas, so he grabbed his beer and chugged the contents because he wanted a buzz and hadn't had a good one in forever. The taste of the Blood Light was magical, and it enhanced his memory as he thought back to all the things that had happened to him during his time at the Hurts gang.

"Blood Light has Sinful properties," said Phillip. "That means its effect is different on Sinners than normal people. Jonas, you've probably already realized the difference, correct?"

"It's enhancing my memories, and my emotions feel more vivid," for just the briefest moment, Jonas let his thoughts linger on Ahmed, and a wave of feelings almost burst forth from his chest. It took great emotional strength, but Jonas held it down because he felt it wasn't the moment for crying.

"You're all experiencing it too, I assume," Phillip looked at each of them, and everyone who had tried it nodded. Theo was the only one who shook his head because he was a non-sinner, and he couldn't feel the Sinful properties.

"I don't feel any different," the young paperboy said. "The flavor keeps changing. I assume that's what happens when a non-Sinner drinks it," Phillip smiled and nodded at him.

"You have the look of someone who's been through a lot. When someone comes to Hell, they'll find themselves in harsh and brutal situations that test their mental strength, physical abilities, and courage. If you manage to survive and are willing to get your hands dirty, you might just wake up with Sin Scars on your hands. Theo, I wouldn't worry too much. Be true to yourself and embrace the feelings you have. It won't be long before you become a Sinner," Theo stared at the back of his hands and nodded. "Jonas, what happened after you woke up from drinking with the old man?"

"He betrayed me," Jonas found his negative feelings toward Old Louie had subsided because talking about the betrayal no longer upset him. Perhaps his curiosity about the text message had overpowered any anger he once had. "Old Louie sold me to the Hurts gang to pay off his gambling debt. The Hurts gang is the number one organization in Little Wrath City for caged fighting. When one of the fighting gangs enslaves you, you're either a dummy slave: someone used to train the Sin of gladiators, or you're a fighting slave. Unfortunately, the slave manager assigned me as the dummy slave for this scumbag, psychotic rapist, Garth."

"What happened?" Amberlee looked very concerned.

"My fate changed. Garth beat me to within inches of my life. He shattered my skull until brain matter was leaking. I should've died, but instead, I awoke a power that was sleeping within me, and with that power also came memories that I had forgotten," Jonas took a deep breath before saying the words he had never spoken aloud. "I'm a Hellite," there was immediate shock on the faces of everyone at the table.

"How is that possible?" Simon asked. "You came from Earth. Didn't you?" Yuki and Johnson looked confused, but they kept their questions to themselves so that Jonas could speak.

"I was born in Hell. Then a mysterious person took us from our original family and put my brother and me in an orphanage on Earth. He sealed our abilities and left us to our devices, but not before messing with our memories and making us forget our early childhoods." Jonas knew not to mention the Man of Light, but the Blood Light brought forth feelings of honesty he hadn't felt in a long time. Jonas wanted to tell his story because it belonged to him, and he was tired of feeling like he needed to hide who he was.

"Who in Hell is powerful enough to take Hellite youths and hide them on Earth?" Johnson looked bewildered, but surprisingly, both Amberlee and Phillip were frowning.

"Perhaps, someone with the ability to teleport?" Phillip suggested.

"But also the ability to seal powers and memories?" Amberlee looked skeptical. "Those abilities aren't related."

"Do they have to be?" Simon asked.

"One ability powerful enough to move Jonas and his brother from Hell to Earth. Another ability to seal their powers and memories. I heard of a clan that could instantly move themselves and others across great distances, but none can seal powers and memories. Something doesn't add up," Amberlee looked at Jonas and realized he was hiding something. "Oh, it must have been a combined effort of multiple people. How silly of me."

"Anyway," Jonas cut them off before they could speculate anymore. "I survived Garth's attempted murder, but the impact of all the beatdowns I got since coming to Hell had broken that person's seal, and I awoke both memories of my past and my Sin Scars," he held the back of his hands up to show Phillip. The two crimson crosses were fully formed and glowed spectacularly. "I learned I was a Crusader because my Sin is Pride, and then I began my journey as a Sinner. I trained every day, both mind and body. I honed my martial arts while slowly discovering the secret world of Sinners. During that time, I came into conflict with some of the fighting slaves. Slowly, I beat my enemies back until my Sin Scars fully formed. I killed a man for the first time and soon discovered my Original Sin. All of this happened within two years."

"That's good progress. Two years to unlock an Original Sin?  You're a talented Sinner," said Phillip, but this surprised Jonas because people have always been amazed by his talent as a Sinner, and Phillip only seemed mildly surprised.

"Just good?" Jonas felt slightly annoyed. "I've been able to perform various acts of True Sin for a while now. I'm strong enough to take the Sin Assessment, and I'm only nineteen," Phillip smiled because he could hear the annoyance contained in Jonas' tone.

"Don't be too offended now. Most Hellite youths start their training as children. You're incredibly gifted for someone who has only learned for two years, and you're above average compared to Sinners of a similar age. However, those top talents like my youngest cousin are far beyond your capabilities. He's eighteen years old, heir to one of the most powerful families in the world, and could kill all of us here in the blink of an eye. They are the youths who will take over and be respected and feared in all areas of the Inlands."

"Are you sure?" Jonas was in disbelief. "I fought Howard Hurts to a standstill, and he was one of the strongest men in Sun City."

"Nothing more than a small fry in the eyes of the Hellites from the Inlands. Trust me, Jonas. I'm not saying this to make you feel bad. I'm trying to give you an idea of what you'll be going up against," Phillip smiled, and Amberlee nodded in agreement.

"You're very talented, but there are youths who've become expert Sinners by twenty. The heir to my family is my sister, younger by a few decades. She's only nineteen, and many grown Sinners would tremble in fear if they caught sight of her."

"Incredible," Jonas scrunched his brow and acknowledged what they were trying to teach him. "They'd look down on me?"

"They wouldn't even notice you if I'm being honest. Now that's just talking about the heirs of big families and the most talented youths. Here in the Outlands? You're the crème of the crop, and you'll find tremendous success as long as you stay smart and keep your training up."

"What about the Inlands?" Jonas took a swig of his Blood Light, and the alcohol made him feel a competitive fire in his belly that tickled his Pride.

"You'd be above average. That's pretty good by most standards. You could still own your own business, join a Sinner's organization, or make it on the outskirts. Sin City, however, you aren't ready for it."

"Fine," Jonas shook his head. "So, I unlocked my Original Sin, and then we started planning a riot to break out of the gang. Everything went fine until the day of the breakout. We easily beat the guards, and we almost beat the leaders. Then a Maldread showed up," Phillip coughed, and Amberlee nearly fell out of her chair.

"A Maldread? Are you sure?" Phillip wiped his mouth with a giant handkerchief. "That's not something you can say lightly, Jonas."

"I'm sure," Jonas nodded. "It killed two of my friends and nearly a dozen Sinners. It had peeled skin, mandible-like jaws, and a passion for eating hearts."

"That sounds like a Maldread. I'm just shocked one would appear in a place as insignificant as Little Wrath City. How did you all survive?" Phillip saw the fear in Jonas' companions' eyes and knew it was the truth.

"It took a few attempts, but I finally managed to kill it," Jonas still felt like the entire situation was just a strange dream because it didn't feel real.

"How?"

"It swallowed my heart. However, my Original Sin is to control blood. I made my heart swell to the point that it constricted the Maldread's breathing and choked it to death."

"You killed a Maldread? You controlled parts of your body from a distance?" If Phillip had been mildly impressed before, he was positively bewildered after hearing Jonas' story. "It must have just been born, right?"

"Less than an hour, I suppose."

"That would make sense," Phillip nodded. "You don't understand how terrifying a fully grown Maldread is. Do you think what you faced was scary? That thing was an hour old. After one week, it could destroy Sun City. After a month, only a handful of people in the Outlands could kill it. After two months, no one in the Outlands could take care of it, and government officials from Sin City would come and kill it. It takes one year for a Maldread to reach full maturity, and it's only happened a few times in the history of Hell. Only a Prince of Hell could kill a fully grown Maldread."

"Are you serious?" Johnson looked bewildered. "In one year, only a Prince of Hell could kill it? How does it even get to that point?"

"When I was younger," began Phillip. "My father told me of the Beast of Torville, a Maldread who reached nine months in age because it had fallen into a network of caves when it was young. Supposedly, it was stuck in caves and forced to feed on small animals and the odd spelunker when they came exploring. One day, the beast found its way out of the cave system and to the town of Torville. Within an hour, the monster had leveled the city, and the government called dozens of Sinners from Sin City to slay the beast. It killed tens of thousands of people before it finally died, and the town of Torville has been a ghost town ever since. That was hundreds of years ago, but the damage one almost-grown Maldread can do is astounding. That's one of the reasons I'm so impressed and in disbelief that you found and killed one. That makes you far above average compared to the Hellite youths from the Inlands."

"Wait a minute," said Amberlee. "If the Maldread ate your heart, how did you survive?"

"My old master had something to do with it," said Jonas. "I think he healed me because when I finally escaped, he left a text message asking me to call him."

"Strange. This old master must be powerful to heal you from such a distance. Old Louie? I've never heard of any Sinner by that name," Phillip drank deeply from his giant mug of wine. When he surfaced for air, he belched loudly and wiped his mouth. "However, expert Sinners are hiding all over Hell. It's not unusual for these masters to take students and train them. It's been happening for thousands of years."

"So, your old master took pity, healed you, and sent you a message to call him? You left the gang, and then?" Asked Phillip.

"Called you," said Jonas. "That's it. That's my journey summarized up until now."

"I'm sorry all of that happened to you. You're a good person and didn't deserve any of it. Unfortunately, slavery and kidnappings happen every day. Nonetheless, you're strong now. You can handle yourself in the Outlands, and people will be very hard-pressed to try and subject you to any type of horror. You can wear clothes and walk freely, you and your friends."

"I know," Jonas didn't look too impressed with himself. "I don't need to be strong in the Outlands because I plan on leaving. Where is the S.S. Sinner, and how do I get a ticket?"

"I can't tell you."

"Phillip," Jonas looked annoyed. "You told me you wouldn't hide anything."

"I'm serious," said Phillip. "The location changes yearly. I don't know this year's location. However, Amberlee knows more than I do. I'll let her tell you," everyone at the table looked at her, including Jonas.

"Listen," she cleared her throat. "I don't know everything, but I'll share what I do. So, once a year, the S. S. Sinner first leaves Sin City, carrying all the talented Hellite youths who have yet to become professional Sinners. Then it travels to the Outlands to a random predetermined location. It usually stops for three days, and once you board the ship, the only way off is to survive the assessment, or to be sent away by the testers. It will pick up a few thousand Outlanders, then head back to Sin City. The testers will make whoever survives into True Sinners. They'll throw those who die into the Sanguinic Sea."

"What the fuck?" Johnson sounded confused. "That sounds like the death rate is rather high?"

"It's a sixty-five percent death rate. A ninety-nine percent fail rate," Amberlee stared at Jonas, and she wore an expression that told Jonas she wasn't joking around. "Nearly everyone that goes will either die or fail."

"If those who die end up in the sea, what happens to those who fail?" Asked Simon.

"They're sent away by some means. I don't know anymore," Amberlee shook her head.

"So, let me get this straight," Jonas wanted clarification. "The ship leaves Sin City and will travel to the Outlands to pick up a lucky few Sinners who are the most talented among the Outlands."

"Correct," she nodded. "When the ship reaches the Outlands, those from the Inlands will have already cleared out the weak links from Sin City. They'll be waiting to pounce on the fresh meat boarding the ship."

"Okay. So, the Outlanders find the ship's location, obtain a ticket, and board it. Then you survive one or more tests until the ship reaches Sin City. Then they make you a True Sinner?"

"As far as I know, yes."

"How does one find a ticket or the location?" Jonas felt excitement at the prospect of learning the truth about the Sin Assessment.

"Jonas, I'm sorry because I don't know the answer. They don't tell things like that to Outcasts like Phillip and me because we can never become Sinners. However, I know there are limited tickets, but they're not exclusive to the rich and powerful. It's just something you have to figure out if you want to take the test: a test before the test if you will."

"Damn," Jonas felt blue-balled by the answer. "The test could have already happened this year. I don't want to wait any longer."

"That may be the case," said Phillip. "Waiting another year isn't a bad idea. The Sin Assessment is notoriously difficult, and nearly everyone will fail or die. Another year will transform you into a stronger Sinner capable of passing the test."

"I'm not waiting any longer if I don't have to," the innocent tone of Jonas' voice was gone and replaced with one slightly cold and experienced. "I want to leave this place as soon as possible. I want to find Drake, and it's likely he's already become a Sinner and taken the Sin Assessment on the sixth floor if they have one too."

Just as Phillip was about to retort, the kitchen doors opened, and the smell of food wafted into their nostrils. It smelled so delicious that it wiped any thought of argument from their minds. A host of staff followed the head butler, who each carried a silver tray full of food.

"Finally," said Phillip. "I'm so ready to eat," the kitchen staff placed the trays onto the dining room table, lifted the lids, and revealed the contents beneath each. There were massive quantities of food: chicken, turkey, pork, ribs, pasta, lasagna, potatoes, and rice. There was sushi, pizza, burgers, and chili. Jonas had never seen so much food in his life, and he was temporarily stunned as his mouth watered, and he remembered the smell of good food. "Everyone, dig in," Phillip clapped and shocked the group out of their stupor. They waited for Phillip and Amberlee to grab food first, and they followed suit and began wantonly piling their plates.

"Don't be shy," Amberlee said to Ralph. "I don't expect you've eaten a healthy meal in some time. Eat as much as you want," he nodded his head, expressed his thanks, and ripped a crispy chicken leg off a giant bird.

There wasn't much talking between them because they stuffed their mouths with delicious home-cooked food. It was a far cry from the rat stew and cold oatmeal they had survived on for so long.

"This is how kings eat," Bannji Balewa fought tears. "This is the best food I've eaten since I came to Hell many years ago. Thank you, Mr. Phillip."

"No worries, Bannji. Eat and then eat some more. We have plenty of food here at our home," there was grease dripping down one of his many chins, and they tried their best not to watch his mouth while he talked.

"I never thought I'd enjoy food like this ever again," said Pete. "Even before they enslaved me, I lived off fast food."

"I'm sorry you've all suffered so much," Amberlee shook her head and glanced at Jonas. "Hell is a harsh place, especially for those who don't know the rules."

"We know the rules now," said Simon. "Never get black-out wasted, don't take food from strangers, and everyone always wants something. Wait a minute," Simon smiled as he realized he was breaking every rule he had named. "You don't count as strangers, do you?" There was a round of good-natured laughter from everyone at the table.

"We may be strangers, but this meal is free, and this home is very safe," said Amberlee.

"If I can sleep here soundly," Jonas assured them. "You can too."

They continued to eat and drink, and an hour passed before they picked the silver dishes clean. Ralph and Philip had devoured half the meal themselves while the rest was digesting in the bellies of the smaller people at the table. Phillip Glatorius belched while rubbing his massive stomach.

"What a great feast. I hope you enjoyed it. You can look forward to another one tomorrow. If you're still hungry, each room has a two-way connection to the butler's room. He'll bring you whatever drinks or snacks you request. Tomorrow I'd like to discuss a business opportunity for all of you. It isn't every day a group of unemployed Sinners comes into your home, and I want to take full advantage of this opportunity to make you all the offer of a lifetime. However, that can wait until you've fully rested and had a night to mourn your losses and sleep off the aches and pains you've accumulated during your escape."

"Thank you, Phillip," Jonas was the first to speak as he watched the giant man pull himself off his chair, and the rest of the staff cleared their plates and poured more alcohol into their cups. "Your hospitality and kindness are unmatched in all of Hell."

"You'd be surprised," Phillip smiled and breathed heavily. "Hell is a terrible place, but you can find kindness. It takes a little luck, but you'll meet good people too. Goodnight, everyone. I assume you know the way back to your rooms. Feel free to use any facility or eat and drink as much as you wish," he gently clapped Jonas on the shoulder. "Tomorrow, we can bury your two friends if you'd like. I'll have funeral arrangements made, and we can bring them to the nearest cemetery. What do you think?"

"I'd like that," Jonas looked sad at the thought of burying his two good friends. "We can't leave them in bags forever," Simon and Johnson nodded in agreement.

"I'll make a call and have Toby drop their bodies off at the funeral home. It will be a small service on short notice, but I'll make sure it's beautiful."

"That means more to us than you'll ever know," said Jonas. "We need one last time to say goodbye to our fallen comrades. I know they'll eventually be reincarnated somewhere in Hell, but unfortunately, I'll never see them again, nor would they remember me if we somehow crossed paths."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Phillip began to walk away. "I'll make the arrangements, so please rest easy and enjoy yourselves while you're here," he turned a corner and disappeared.

"Well," Amberlee looked unsure of what to say to Jonas. "I hope you had a good meal, and I'm sorry for everything you've been through."

"No worries, Amberlee. Thank you for taking us in and teaching me about the Sin Assessment. I can always rely on you two," said Jonas, and Amberlee nodded but appeared to have something else to say. She glanced at Yuki, smiled warmly, and left the room.

"Looks like it's just us," Simon was a bit red-faced and looked sleepy. "You were right, Jonas. These people are incredibly generous. I didn't think anyone like them existed in all of Hell. How wrong I was. Thank you for bringing us here."

"Not a problem," Jonas sipped his fourth beer. "It was my only solution. I told you I'd ask Phillip to get you jobs, but I didn't realize he'd offer on his own. It must be hard for an Outcast incapable of Sinning to get Sinners to work for him," his friends nodded in agreement.

"What do you think the offer will be?" Johnson was very excited at the prospect of having a job.

"Money, room and board, perhaps even vehicles and other exclusive perks. He'll probably get you whatever you want if you agree to work for him. That includes potential future businesses," he glanced at Yuki, and she blinked in response.

"Do you think he can help us find our loved ones?" Pete asked, and both Bannji and Simon looked interested in the answer.

"He has contacts and resources. However, even if he can't help you, you'll need money to find who you're looking for, right?" They all nodded at Jonas' question. "Work for him for a bit, and then you can take off and try to find your loved ones. I have no idea where to start, but Philip probably has some strategies you could use. We can ask him tomorrow after the funeral service."

"Good idea," Simon yawned and stood up from his chair. "I'm going to turn in early and take a nap. I'm dead tired," but immediately apologized for his poor choice of words. "Sorry, I mean tired after everything that happened."

"You're good, Simon," Jonas gave a small smile. "Ahmed wouldn't want us walking on eggshells when talking about him. He was always straight to the point and didn't care about beating around the bush."

"You're right," Simon's eyes looked a bit red, and he shrugged his shoulders while turning away. "Goodnight, everyone."

"I have to take a massive shit," Johnson stood up from the table. "Then I'm going to sleep like a baby. Good night, fuckers. Oh, and Yuki."

"Disgusting," Jonas chuckled. "Enjoy your privacy, Erik," and Johnson trailed after Simon.

"I was going to suggest a card game," Pete had a brand-new eye patch more handsome than his previous one, which had been dangerously close to showing the wound.

"I'm off to bed, sorry," Yuki stood up and tried to smile, but she came off as a bit short.

"Uh, good night," Jonas swirled his beer and watched her disappear behind the wall; the hem of her dress danced dramatically out of view.

"That was awkward," Ralph gave Jonas a confused stare.

"We may be in the midst of a breakup," Jonas cracked an unconvincing smile, and he beckoned for the butler to pour him another. "Let's play cards, get shitfaced, and talk about whatever," he looked over at Pete, Theo, Bannji, and Ralph.

"I'm game," said Theo. "Today is a day for celebration. We're free."

"Uh, Mr. Ken, right?" Jonas asked the middle-aged butler, who smiled from beneath a black mustache.

"Thanks for remembering, Mr. Ariel. Not everyone takes the time to recall the names of servants."

"I'm not everyone," Jonas shook hands with Mr. Ken. "Could you get us some playing cards, more beer, and a pack of cigarettes?" The head butler nodded and left to fulfill the request. It wasn't long before Mr. Ken returned with a tray full of beer, a pack of luxury playing cards, and a box of cigarettes labeled Diamond Doubles.

"Old habits die hard," Jonas chuckled as he lit a cigarette and felt the hot smoke fill his lungs. He exhaled and felt the rush of a head buzz that he hadn't experienced since high school.

Mr. Ken took a seat with them and showed them Devil's Deck, a card game played in Hell. The game's objective was to be the first to collect and play a series of cards to summon a devil, which required stealing and bluffing cards from opponents. The deck featured numbers one through thirteen of five suits: blood, fire, ice, poison, and shadow.

First, a player needed to collect a witch card. Then the focus became finding a sacrifice card, then a spell card, and they could play the devil card and win the game. The rest of the numbers were fillers, bluffs, and to counter their opponent's cards that they played. It was an exciting game and took a few rounds before Jonas understood the rules.

"If I may, Sir. What seems to be the issue between you and the lady?"

"We're at a crossroads. We're about to go our separate ways, and neither of us knows how to handle that. Neither of us has ever been in a healthy relationship. I'm going on a journey of certain death to find my brother, who may or may not hate me, and she wants to stay and open up a safe house for orphan girls," Pete, Bannji, Ralph, and Theo exchanged awkward glances at the info bomb, while Mr. Ken nodded his head knowingly.

"It sounds to me like you already have the answer. You're both going your separate ways. Sometimes relationships have to end, but friendships do not," Mr. Ken puffed his cigarette and sipped a whiskey. "Did you two start as friends?"

"Yeah," Jonas narrowed his brow and stared at the cards in his hand with glossy eyes.

"Then end as friends too," Mr. Ken smiled and put his last down. "It'll hurt for a bit, but you can still come out with a win," he had all the cards needed to summon a devil.

Thank you to my Gold Patron, PandaLady12

Tower of Hell: Caged and Confused, Book 1, Chapter 123

Jonas and the rest of the crew continued to drink and chat in low whispers. Morale was down but steadily rising due to the flavor of the expensive alcohol, the unfamiliar breeze coming from the limo window, and the lovely voice belonging to Fiona Bridget from one of the televisions. She was a beautiful reporter narrating the ongoing events of Sun City.

"Yesterday afternoon, Overworld News Central shocked the citizens of Sun City with the story about the eldest son of CEO Robert Mack, founder of Mack Solutions, brutally murdered in his hotel room. This event marks a string of murders of high-profile individuals, dating back two months ago when security discovered singer/songwriter Jay-Jay Flame strangled to death in his home in Westingtown. President Mack called security to the scene, including detective Agent Monsieur, known to offer his services to the rich and elite.

Overworld News Central is happy to bring you exclusive access to this story, where journalists interviewed Agent Monsieur. There they discovered shocking details about the murder of Robert Mack Jr., brutally stabbed to death in what appears to be a robbery gone wrong. I'm here in the studio with reporter Rachel Ray, John Benzino, and Mark Strong. Let's start with you, Mark. Do you think this recent rise in celebrity deaths is something the public should be concerned about, or perhaps there's a conspiracy afoot?" Fiona Bridget shook her golden curls and smiled toward a moderately handsome man who wore an aloof expression.

"I said it last week, and I'll say it once more. Who the hell cares about celebrities and the children of CEOs dying? No one cares," Mark answered his own question. "These people, mostly Hellites, are not only raised in privilege, but most partake in sadistic social norms such as slavery, drug trafficking, and murder for fun. Do you think the world should care about Junior Mack? I don't think he's worth our tears. According to my sources, they found massive quantities of cocaine in his hotel room and two caged women who looked like they had been there for weeks."

"Chilling," said Fiona Bridget. "Tell the viewers more about this source who has first-hand information about the events at the Hellton Hotel?"

"You already named him, and the world knows his story. I was the journalist called to interview Agent Monsieur, brought to the hotel room by Robert Mack Senior, distraught over his eldest son's death."

"That's right, Mark. You brought Overworld News Central exclusive footage of this interview, didn't you?"

"That I did, Fiona. This afternoon I'll share a sneak peek at the chilling interview with whom some call the greatest detective in the Outlands, while we'll share the rest tonight on Prime Show Time, the greatest late-night show on the network." Mark flashed a brilliant smile and waved his hand to gesture his approval.

"Then let's take a look at that sneak peek, shall we?" Fiona smiled at the camera, and the scene flashed as an Asian man with intense eyes took most of the view, and the sounds of cameras flashing could be heard in the background.

"My name is Agent Monsieur of Outlandish Detective Agency, and I'm the representing detective at the scene of the chilling and brutal murder of my employer's dutiful son."

"We're here at the Hellton Hotel. Can you tell us more details about what went on in the room behind you? What exactly happened to Robert Mack Junior?" Mark Strong's voice asked the questions.

"Hotel maids discovered Robert Mack Junior stabbed to death, laying in a puddle of his blood on the floor of his penthouse suite," said Agent Monsieur. "There were signs of a struggle, while drugs and alcohol were present around the room. It appears that Robert Junior was partying with multiple people when one of them took a knife and stabbed the victim twenty-six times. I regret to inform the public that we found two women caged in the hotel room. It seems Robert used them as party favors for his friends, and according to my investigation, this isn't the first time."

"What about the drugs?" Mark Strong glossed over the part about caged women because it wasn't as interesting.

"Copious amounts of cocaine discovered on scene and confiscated by my detective agency," Agent Monsieur had a dry voice and didn't seem at all perturbed by the fact he was disparaging his employer's son. Jonas wasn't used to societal norms of Hell but figured Robert Mack Senior wasn't too happy with Agent Monsieur publicly announcing that his recently departed son had caged women and lots of drugs.

"So the death was caused by a feud over drugs?" Mark Strong asked.

"It appears so, but we're still investigating," Agent Monsieur ran a hand through his hair, and Jonas noticed a red tattoo in the shape of a bullseye.

"Hunter," said Jonas. "That agent guy is a Sinner," Simon and Johnson nodded their heads, but the rest of their crew turned to watch the television because they had been too busy drinking their sorrows.

"He did that on purpose, right?" Simon's voice drowned out the television, but the interview sneak peek was over, and the scene turned back to the newsroom where Fiona, Mark, and John discussed the events of the murder. "Why would he show off his Sin Scars?"

"It's his way of saying that the death was Sinner's business. I think," said Jonas. "He's sending a message to other Sinners, but I can't be sure what he's trying to say.

"Well, people are getting murdered. No different up here than it was down there, is it?" Johnson smacked his lips and sunk his hand deep into a bag of chips. "It sounds like Junior Mack got what he deserved. Fuck any man that puts people in cages, honestly."

"Agreed," said Yuki. "I do think it's interesting that multiple celebrities have died. It seems someone is targeting them for some reason. I wonder why?" Jonas furrowed his brow in deep thought.

"Perhaps, it has something to do with the Sin Assessment or the Hell Challenge?" He recalled the way Agent Monsieur showed off his Sin Scars.

"Perhaps," Simon nodded in agreement. "It's strange watching television after years of being deprived of technology or news."

"Very strange," Jonas agreed and took a sip of his beer. "It shouldn't be long until we're at the Glatorius mansion. We'll be able to shower, and Phillip will throw a feast because he loves food very much."

"We need showers," said Johnson while sniffing the air. "This limo won't ever be the same after having us in it," Jonas agreed because they were all still covered in filth, blood, gore, and swamp.

"Sir, we'll be reaching home base in less than five minutes," Toby's voice was on the speakers. It wasn't long before the limo came to a stop, and security opened the doors for them. Jonas was the first to leave the limo, and he stepped onto the front driveway of the Glatorius mansion, which looked just as impressive as it did the first time he saw it. Brown cobblestone walls with a tall cathedral-like roof and large windows gave the home life and an inside view into privilege, power, and wealth.

The front doors swung open, and the massive figure of Philip Glatorius stepped into view. He hadn't changed much over the last two years, but Jonas thought he looked slimmer.

"Jonas?" Phillip was opened-mouthed because he hadn't registered who the person in front of him was. "Is that you?" In front of Phillip was a young man with long golden blonde hair, covered in blood and filth, and a body like an old roman statue.

"It's me," Jonas pushed his bangs out of his face and revealed two sapphire blue eyes, a youthful expression with strong cheekbones, and a white smile. They both stepped forward and firmly shook hands. Phillip's massive paw swallowed Jonas' bloodstained hand. "Did you lose weight? You look good."

"A pound or two," Phillip smiled. "You've gained weight. Also, you look like you've been to Hell and back. You need a shower."

"Living in a cage in a sewer will do that to you," As Jonas shook hands with Phillip, he confirmed one thing: the giant was not a Sinner, though Jonas had suspected he might've been hiding his Sin Scars the same way Old Louie could. "I've officially confirmed that you're not a Sinner."

"Did you just figure that out?' Phillip released Jonas' hands. "I told you I knew a little about Sinners, but I didn't think that meant you assumed I was one."

"I'm a Sinner now," Jonas lifted a hand and revealed the glow of his cross-shaped Sin Scar. "After I became one, I wondered whether you hid your powers from me. I was wrong."

"You're wrong, but you had good reason to suspect. I'm not a Sinner because I never figured out how to evolve past my deformity. We'll speak more about this later," Phillip looked behind Jonas and saw a handful of intimidating people standing outside the limo. "You should introduce me to your friends."

"Where's Amberlee?"

"Inside. Nervous, I think," Phillip sighed. "Her depression has gotten worse this past year. She doesn't go out much anymore," Jonas could hear the concern in his voice.

"Damn. I'm sorry. Let me introduce you to everyone, and then I'll say hi to Amberlee after," Jonas waved his crew over. "Guys, come meet Phillip Glatorius. This man is my greatest benefactor since I've been in Hell."

"What an intimidating group of warriors," Phillip exhaled as he took in the presence of their group. Jonas introduced them one at a time, and Phillip noticed how each of them had Sin Scars on their hands. When the security consultant shook hands with Ralph, Jonas noticed Ralph was taller, but Phillip was thicker.

"You have a nice place," Simon looked around impressively at the garden statues and fountain.

"Thank you. You will all be safe and taken care of while staying in my home, so please don't worry," though his words did nothing to ease the skepticism of Jonas' friends. They didn't believe that anyone in Hell was generous enough to take them in, clean them up, feed them, give them jobs, and allow them their freedom or expect nothing in return.

Phillip ushered them inside the house, and they marveled at how clean and expensive everything appeared. It was a far cry from the mossy stone they had lived among for so long.

"It's like a castle," Yuki touched the smooth glossy interior walls. "I can't believe luxuries like this exist."

"I have been blessed to be born a descendant of a rich and powerful family. However, I am a bit of a black sheep and have since made my living with my security company. I don't rely on them," Jonas heard a bitter tone in Phillip's words that surprised him.

"We can't choose our family," said Johnson. "But we can choose our friends. You've done well for yourself."

"Thank you, uh, Johnson?" Phillip asked, and Johnson nodded his shaggy head.

"Miss Calina," Philip called to a middle-aged maid. "Prepare a room for each of our guests. Make sure they have fresh clothes, and stock the bathroom toiletries for them," Phillip turned to Toby, the head security guard. "Toby, inform the chef to prepare a feast for ten."

"You better make it twenty," said Jonas. "We haven't eaten a real meal in years."

"You heard Jonas. Tell the chef to make it a feast for twenty."

Miss Calina and Toby nodded and left to perform their duties, and ten minutes later, she was ushering them up the stairs and towards the west wing of the mansion, where there were plenty of empty bedrooms.

"Shower, nap, do whatever you need to do to relax," said Phillip as he creaked the stairs after them. "You'll have fresh clothing awaiting you all," Jonas left the group, found his old room, closed the door behind him, and sighed deeply. It was the first time he had been alone since the events at the Hurts gang. The room had been untouched since Jonas left the mansion so long ago, and even the closet still had fresh pairs of prison scrubs.

He found his way to the bathroom, stripped his filthy, torn clothing off his body, and stepped into the large walk-in shower. The hot water poured down his back as he turned the taps, and he watched as the white tile floor became dirty with all the filth pouring off his body. It took Jonas ten minutes to finish scrubbing the disgusting build-up of gore, and when he finally stepped out of the shower and began drying off, he felt much lighter than he did before. He opened the bathroom mirror and found his old toothbrush, which he used to scrub the blood and grime out of his mouth. When he finished grooming, he walked naked toward his bed and found not prison scrubs but a t-shirt and jeans that the maid had put out for him.

Simon had been one of many people to teach him the importance of clothing in Hell because it signified someone wealthy, influential, or unafraid of being robbed. Jonas wasn't rich or famous, but he wasn't afraid of much anymore, and his hard work earned him the right to wear clothing. Phillip must have said something to Miss Calina because she would have brought him prison scrubs otherwise. Prison scrubs were the mark of a commoner, and not many dared to wear clothing in the outside world.

Jonas slid the jeans over his legs, put on the t-shirt one size too small, and used a brush to tackle some of the tangles in his golden hair. He stepped outside his room and saw Amberlee, who had just left her bedroom. She was as pretty as ever, but she looked thinner and paler than he remembered seeing her.

"Jonas?" She looked confused, and her voice was hoarse as if she hadn't used it much. "Is that you?"

"I told you I'd come back," he gave her a warm smile, and she knew it was him. They hugged, and she couldn't believe how much he had grown in his time away, and he couldn't believe how frail and delicate she felt in his arms. Neither tried to pull away, but after a minute, Jonas was the first to excuse himself from the embrace, and he pulled back to look at her. "I'm sorry it took so long."

"What happened to you?" She examined him with great interest. "Phillip said something about a gang capturing you and making you live in a sewer."

"Yeah. That happened," Jonas grinned.  "It took almost two years, but I finally escaped them. I'm a free man now."

"Your hands," Amberlee noticed the faint Sin Scars. "You're a Sinner?"

"I didn't think you'd recognize them."

"My dad was a Sinner," she sighed. "Of course I recognize them."

"You and Philip hid a lot from me," Jonas raised an eyebrow. "I can see why."

"I didn't think you were ready to know what Sinners were. If I'm being honest, Phillip and I thought you'd hit a dead end and come back to us. It was a mistake not to tell you," there was guilt written on her expression as she stared at the crosses on his hands. "I'll tell you more later. First, I need to meet the rest of your companions, and then we'll feast."

"Phillip also said later," Jonas shook his head. "You both have some explaining to do."

"Agreed, and I'll give you answers," she led him out of the hallway, downstairs, and into the dining room, where Phillip, Simon, and Pete sat at the long table.

"You look good," said Jonas, who hadn't seen Simon so clean. "Nice digs," both of them were wearing non-scrub clothing too.

"As do you," Simon faintly smiled because he still felt uncomfortable in jeans after so long.

"Jonas, how are you feeling?" Phillip nodded approvingly at Jonas' outfit. "No more scrubs for you. Clothing is the mark of someone who belongs in Hell's society."

"I don't think I belong, but you're right: I'm no longer a commoner," he and Amberlee took their seats at the table and waited for the rest of Jonas' crew to finish bathing and join them.

"So, you and Amberlee have kept some secrets from me. Well, I'm just too ignorant to have noticed the signs. First, I doubt two non-Sinners could have such a big mansion, be so wealthy, and keep it all safe from the psychos of Hell. I mean: you're both not Sinners, but you're not ignorant of them either. You know way more than you let on when we first met," Jonas gave Phillip a look.

"After dinner?" Phillip saw the look in Jonas' eye and realized he wasn't waiting any longer.

"Me and Amberlee, we've separated from our families. I'm a Hellite who originates from the Glatorius family of Sin City. They're one of the most powerful families in Hell, and most of their members are Sinners. I was the middle son of the family Patriarch, but I separated from them when my abnormality became clear. Hell's society calls people like me an Outcast. We're Hellites who have birth defects due to Sin. We come in all shapes, colors, and sizes, but other Hellites treat us terribly because most of us lack the ability to Sin, and we're usually very strange and ugly."

"Jesus," Jonas furrowed his brow as Johnson entered the room wearing clothing and looking very clean. "So you're a black sheep who left home because you're an Outcast?"

"Precisely. I still use my family name and some inheritance to build my security empire. However, my parents don't hate me. They often look after me from the shadows, but they know it's better for me in the Outlands. They call us Outcasts because we don't belong in the Inlands. The Glatorius name commands respect while I'm here in commoner society. However, when I'm back home, I'm scum who only lives because my family name protects me," Philip exhaled, and Jonas could see how much it pained him to explain his background.

"I'm sorry," Jonas could only imagine the pain of leaving his family because he was born differently. "That had to be hard."

"It was decades ago," Phillip shrugged his massive shoulders. "My father is powerful, but he couldn't bear to see me suffer any more than I had growing up. Hellite youths are murderous, Jonas. Can you imagine a bunch of hormonal teenagers hopped up on Sin and with no consequences for their actions? My life was miserable. I left the Inlands, and I don't regret it because I would have eventually died."

"No, I can't imagine," Jonas pictured guys like Wolf, Garth, or Howard Hurts, only stuck in teenage bodies and belonging to influential families full of Sinners. It was a terrifying thought. "What about you, Amberlee?"

"I'm the same, an Outcast. Our parents introduced us, and we came to the Outlands together. We were friends at first, but eventually, we fell in love and married. Our stories were so similar, and we both experienced the same pain growing up, so we were able to bond. Not all Outcasts are physically different; some suffer from mental or emotional issues. Outcast society is difficult to explain sometimes. I knew people who looked strange but still were capable of Sinning, so Hellite society begrudgingly accepted them. Then you have people like me: regular appearance but incapable of Sin. People like me get outcasted because we can't protect ourselves."

"That's interesting," said Johnson, and Simon gave him a look. "What? It is interesting."

"I'm not offended," Amberlee flashed a brilliant smile, but Jonas noticed that she didn't have the same energy she had when they first met. Instead, she looked tired, and her voice lacked enthusiasm. "Most commoners don't know much about Hellite society, and it's interesting from their perspective."

"I feel bad for you, I do," Johnson looked embarrassed and waved his hand. "I think it's better that you both came to the Outlands. Those Hellites sound unbearable."

"They are," said Phillip. "My last name saved my life more than once."

"As did mine," Amberlee stretched a delicate hand and patted Phillip on the arm. "My maiden name is Truman."

"The Truman family is an ancient and well-known family that makes yachts and ferries. Fun fact for you, her family helped construct the S.S. Sinner."

"The S.S. Sinner?" Jonas had a feeling he knew where the conversation was going. "That's the ship where the Sin Assessment takes place, isn't it?"

"It is," Amberlee nodded. "My great-grandfather helped design it. Do you think the Titanic was big? The Sinner is ten times the size. It's the biggest ship in all of Hell," Jonas suddenly thought of Pride, and the thought made him sad. What a coincidence that Amberlee was related to the family who constructed the ship where the sin assessment would take place. The Man of Light probably had his fingers in that too. Perhaps Jonas had only been purchased by Phillip Glatorius because his Overlord had decided it. No, Jonas needed to focus on the present and to learn more about what the Glatorius' knew about the sin assessment.

"Do you know where the ship is? Or how to get a ticket?" Jonas looked over and saw Bannji enter the room, as well as Yuki. The maids had given them regular clothing, and it seemed that Yuki was wearing one of Amberlee's dresses. Theo entered the room behind them, but he was wearing prison scrubs.

"Come in, sit down, please," Phillip smiled at them all and gestured to the empty chairs.

"Yuki, correct?" Amberlee smiled at her. "I hope the dress fits okay."

"It's beautiful. Thank you so much," Yuki politely smiled and sat next to Jonas. "That shower was well needed."

"I agree," Ralph was the last to enter the room, and Jonas noticed he was wearing baggy clothing that must've belonged to Phillip.

"Now that's everyone?" Phillip asked.

"Everyone that's still alive," said Jonas.

"So my big question for you, Jonas. What happened to you?" Phillip was curious how a naive pretty boy from Earth could get captured for two years and come out a muscular Sinner with the aura of a Hellite.

"I wanted to know about the ship," Jonas wouldn't let the topic go, and Phillip could see the resolution on his face.

"Listen, Jonas. I'm not going to hide anything else from you, but I need to understand what happened to you before I can feel comfortable advising you on the things you want to know. So please, just take ten minutes to tell me what happened after you left our house nearly two years ago."

"Fine," Jonas sighed. "But I'll need more than ten minutes. It's a long journey that starts with me buying drinks for an old quack and ends with my friends dying."

"Dinner will be ready soon," Phillip grabbed a bell off the table and rang it. A butler came from the kitchen. "Bring drinks, please."

"As you wish, Sir," the butler nodded and left for the kitchen.

"We'll need something to drink if you're sharing a long tale. Start from after you left my house."

"The story starts before that," Jonas shook his head. "After I got beat up at the Dark Fly Auction, Boss James called this old quack to come and heal me. He was my first experience with a Sinner, and he made me whole again in just a few seconds. I asked him about Sinners, but James didn't want him to tell me anything. Instead, the old man told me to find him in the sewers."

"So that's where you went after you left my house, right?"

"Exactly. I paid a trucker for some information, and it sent me to the abandoned sewage plant on Exodus. Then I sent money to the Von Trip gang and made my way to Little Wrath City. I found Old Louie; he took me as his student and started to teach me about Sinners, Cardinal Sins, and Sin Scars. We both got drunk. I blacked out and was in a cage when I woke up. That's where my journey begins."

Thank you to my Gold Patron, PandaLady12

Tower of Hell: Caged and Confused, Book 1, Chapter 122

Jonas felt the nostalgia was strong, and it was easy to reminisce about the first time he had hopped the gates of the sewage plant, knocked on the door, paid the fare, and nervously traversed the long tunnel pathway that led to Little Wrath City. He wasn't in the mood for dwelling in the past because Ahmed's cold body was heavy in his arms and weighed even more on his heart. Sometimes he felt like he couldn't bear to look down and see his dear friend because it would twist his heart into a pretzel and make his stomach feel empty and useless.

A part of him was missing, and he'd lost it after seeing the demise of his two friends. Jonas had never lost anyone the way he lost Ahmed, so the experience was new and unfamiliar. If someone dared to ask, Jonas would tell them that losing a friend was worse than having his heart removed or his brain turned to mincemeat. However, he was trying his best not to feel and caught himself in a situation where he pretended to be cold and uncaring like the real Sinners of Hell.

"Just up here, I think," Jonas didn't need to squint because his vision was much better than before he discovered Sinning, and the dim lighting wasn't enough to stop him from seeing the exit door ahead.

"Good," Simon whispered. "What should we do about the toll? I don't think any of us have money," but he saw the look on Jonas' face and knew they weren't paying anything that day.

"This is not the main headquarters for the Von Trip gang," Bannji said quietly. "I don't think anyone guarding this entrance is a Sinner. We don't need to worry about a bunch of low-level bangers that ol' Billy had sent to collect tolls into Little Wrath City."

"If Bannji says there's nothing to worry about, then I'm not worried," Pete crossed his arms, and his Sin Scars began to glow.

Up the metal steps, they exited into the sewage plant and found themselves walking down a metal hallway, and they were hungrily anticipating the breath of fresh air that was mere seconds away from them.

"Jesus Christ," a man wearing green clothing was waiting at the door. He saw the blood covering all of them, saw the dead bodies, saw the size of Ralph, and he saw Jonas Ariel. Half a dozen people played cards at a table to the side, and they looked over after hearing their companion's surprise.

"Bad news," Jonas' voice was plain and contained no emotion. "Billy Von Trip is dead."

"Don't joke around like that," a man held his cards tightly and glared over at Jonas. "Seriously, don't ever say that again."

"Call him," Jonas wasn't bothered by the threat. "If you don't believe me, send someone down to visit the Hurts gang. They're all dead: a Maldread got them. Why do you think a bunch of top-five fighters are here unsupervised? Do you not know who this is?" Jonas used his thumb to point at Bannji, who smirked.

"Bannji Balewa?" The small-time gangsters knew the face of their best fighter but didn't have the privilege to meet him up close and personal.

"That's right, mother fuckers. Billy Von Trip is dead, and your best fighter is no longer offering his services. In America, I think they say that the gig is up."

The gang members exchanged looks, and the one who had been rude to Jonas was the first to speak.

"Caycee, call Billy. You can all stay here until I figure out what to do with you," one gangster pulled out his hell phone while the others glared at Jonas' crew.

"Don't be a fucking idiot," Pete shook his head. "We've got Yotama Yuki, Jonas Ariel, and Bannji Balewa on our side. Do you fucking idiots want to die? We can help you experience reincarnation if you want," his words did the trick because the gangsters were all forced back to the reality of the situation. Their small group of fighters wasn't a match for even a single top-five fighter.

"We can't just let you go," the rude gangster looked over at Caycee, who had the phone glued to his ear and was scrunching his eyebrows.

"Boss, listen to this," he pulled the phone down and put it on speaker, so they all could hear.

"Thank you for calling this number. Unfortunately, the owner of this hell phone is deceased and cannot answer. Thank you for calling. Goodbye," there was an uncomfortable silence as the message played.

"You can't fake that," Johnson shook his head. "Billy's dead. You can collect his body down at the Hurts gang. Now, we're leaving, and the first person who tries to stop us will die. We're not playing games," and he stepped forward, along with Jonas and the rest of their group. The faces of the Von Trip gang members were brutally shocked, and none of them found the courage to say or try anything. Their leader was dead, their best fighter was escaping, and Howard Hurts might be dead too.

The group stopped in front of a heavily reinforced metal door, and the bald doorman looked over at his fellows because he was confused and had no idea what to do. The rude gangster sighed, shook his head, and beckoned for his fellows to follow him.

"J.P, let them through. I'm going to the Hurts gang to see what the fuck is going on. Billy is dead. You can't fake a voicemail like that. Jesus fucking Christ, Billy Von Trip is dead," the doorman lifted the hatch, pulled the door, and swung it open to reveal the bright crimson sky of Hell, a wave of cool fresh air, and the first beams of sunshine that they had all seen in a long time.

"Freedom," Jonas whispered. He stepped forward, and the rest of his group followed behind him. It was like being released into the wild after being held captive for so long. His skin cells screamed in protest as they bathed in the light, and his body seemed angry that Jonas deprived it of sunlight and outdoor stimuli for so long. The rest felt the same as they all stepped into the abandoned courtyard of the sewage plant and allowed the hot white sun to bathe their skin and the cool breeze to blow their hair and clothing around.

"Freedom!' Simon screamed, and the sunlight revealed how dirty, pale, and malnourished he was. He clapped Johnson on the shoulder and gave Theo a big hug. "I never thought I'd ever escape. I didn't think I'd see the world again. Jonas, thank you," he knew that his dear friend was still hurting and upset, but he had to express himself because his feelings were flowing out.

"Let me see Ahmed," Johnson held his arms out. "You need to call our ride. Don't argue with me," Jonas sighed and gingerly passed Ahmed's body to Johnson.

"Give me a minute. My phone hasn't been on in two years," Jonas pulled out his hell phone and held the power button. It vibrated, the screen flickered, and an opening sequence played. Then the lock screen came up, and Jonas typed in his password. The phone instantly began singing and vibrating like crazy as it received numerous text messages and other notifications.

"Someone's popular," Pete snickered, and Jonas was quite surprised that he'd missed so many messages. He opened his texts and saw that two numbers had left messages during his time at the Hurts gang. The first messages were from Phillip Glatorius.

"Hi, Jonas. We hope you're doing well and have found a lead on your brother. Good morning, Jonas. We hope you can text to let us know you're alright. Hi Jonas, it's been a week since you left, and Amberlee is worried about you. I've tried calling, but it's going straight to voicemail, so please text as soon as possible. Dear Jonas, I hope you're okay. I've used my resources to try and find you, but you've gone off the grid. Please try and stay safe, and if you see these messages, please call as soon as possible," on and on the messages went, and Jonas didn't bother reading all of them in detail, but it warmed his heart just slightly to see how worried the two Glatorius' were for his sake. Along with the texts, there were also about twenty unanswered phone calls and a dozen voicemails.

The second number was unknown to Jonas, and there was only one message.

"Good luck with your escape, stupid disciple. If you manage to make it to the surface, give me a call. We need to talk about some things. If you died, oh well. Love your master, Old Louie."

"What the fuck," Jonas squinted at his phone. "My master sent me a text wishing us luck in our escape. How did he know?"

"Perhaps the same way he healed you?" Simon narrowed his brow. "It seems this Old Louie character isn't as simple as you think," even though Old Louie hadn't healed Jonas' heart, Simon was correct in assuming that the old quack was highly capable and more mysterious than Jonas had once thought.

"Give me a minute. I'm calling," Jonas' heart was a bit nervous as he clicked on Phillip's contact and called. His phone rang, and he didn't think anyone would pick up. However, by the tenth ring, the phone connected, and Jonas heard the unmistakable polite voice of Phillip Glatorius.

"Jonas, is that really you?"

"Hi, Phillip. I'm sorry it took me so long to call," Jonas felt a weight lifted off his shoulders, and the anxiety began to wash away.

"What happened to you? We've been trying to contact you for ages. Are you okay?"

"I'm good. I got caught up with a few gangsters in Little Wrath City. Have you ever heard of it?"

"I have," said Phillip, and there was concern in his voice. "That's not a place I would willingly visit. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"Long story short, they enslaved me and took my hell phone. A few others and I led an escape, and we just returned to the surface a few minutes ago," there was a long pause before Phillip could find the words to speak.

"Unbelievable. Jonas, where are you now? I'll send a car to pick you up. You can tell me about your journey once we get you back to the house," Jonas gave a faint smile.

"Please do. There are about eight of us, and we've got two bodies of our fallen companions with us. Could you bring something to put them in, if possible?"

"I'm sorry for your loss, Jonas. I'll send a limo and two body bags. Where are you?"

"The abandoned sewage plant on Exodus Street. Honestly, I'm not far from your house," Jonas looked around and saw many familiar sights. "I'm going to let you go. I need to tell everyone else the good news. Thanks, Phillip."

"No issue at all, Jonas. Just hang tight, and your ride will be there in fifteen minutes. See you soon," Phillip hung up, and Jonas knew he needed to make phone calls to his employees.

"My contact is sending a limo. It'll probably be about fifteen minutes," Jonas gave them all a short smile as he shoved his phone into his pocket and cracked his neck.

"I've never ridden in a limo," Johnson grinned. "We're leaving this place in style, aren't we?"

"Very generous friends you have," Ralph was still carrying the body of Jaden but looked completely unfazed because his strength was enough to hold three people for hours without feeling tired. "Lucky us."

"How did you meet this guy again?" Pete crossed his arms and gave Jonas a look full of skepticism. "I've never heard of anyone in Hell being that generous.

"He and his wife are the real deal: two genuinely good people. He bought me at a slave auction when I first arrived in Hell. I was to be eye candy for his wife and help her with tasks. However, they let me go after a week because I wanted to find my brother. Phillip took a loss of fifty thousand Sin Stones and even sent me a grand to help me on my journey."

"Jesus," Johnson whistled. "They paid fifty thousand for you and let you go just like that? People like them don't exist, right?" Jonas shook his head.

"They exist. It's hard to believe there are genuine people in Hell, but they're around."

"That was a good idea, asking for body bags for Ahmed and Jaden," Simon looked over and sighed at the sight of Ahmed's body in Johnson's arms.

"Well, this might be Hell, but walking down the street while carrying two bodies is still kind of strange. We still need to figure out where to bury them," said Johnson, and Jonas felt his heart twist when he thought of leaving their bodies in a dark hole. Were there graveyards in Hell? What did people usually do with their loved ones when they passed away? These intrusive questions were making their rounds through his mind.

"We'll bury them someplace nice," said Yuki, and she touched Jonas' arm as if she knew what was worrying him. "We'll do right by them, I promise."

"Alright," said Jonas, who was feeling sour about the topic. He didn't enjoy discussing it, and his thoughts shifted to the text message from Old Louie, also the anxiety he had about seeing the Glatorius couple again.

What could the old quack possibly need to discuss with him? Jonas had been sold into slavery by him, and so many bad things had happened because of Old Louie. The young teen had only negative thoughts and feelings about his old master, and he felt like he'd be inclined to punch the old quack in the face. However, a part of Jonas' heart wanted to contact Old Louie because he could learn the location of the Sin Assessment.

Then there were Phillip and Amberlee Glatorius, both of whom Jonas would see again in less than an hour. Maybe it was because he lacked faith in humanity due to recent events, but part of him was worried the couple wouldn't help him and his friends without wanting something in return. If that was the case, Jonas planned on revealing himself and his crew as Sinners, which would pique the interest of Phillip, who knew that Sinners were in high demand in the security business.

"They're going to be here soon. Listen to me, don't tell anyone you're a Sinner until I reveal the truth. It could attract unwanted attention. You might not know this, but I heard from Xiao Lin that revealing yourself as a Sinner can bring your downfall, and cruel men may try to claim your head as a way of proving themselves. Xiao Lin told me that Sinners in the Overworld will eat guys like us for breakfast."

"Even in Sun City?" Simon looked confused. "I thought you said Howard Hurts was a top dog in this town, and if you could beat him, it stands to reason that you're one of the most powerful men in this place.

"There are powers hidden all over the Overworld, in every city. Just because they don't show their face to the public does not mean they don't exist or are not strong. Sinners hide because it's dangerous to reveal themselves publicly. They'll attract the attention of other Sinners who wish to snuff them out."

"Sinners living in the shadows see one of their kind come into the light and show themselves off to the public? Pete might've asked, but he knew the answer before Jonas spoke.

"They see it as a threat that they can neutralize," Jonas had an epiphany. "It's probably another reason why it's so hard to find information on Sinners: they are scared of each other. Nothing frightens a Sinner more than being hunted and killed by a stronger Sinner."

"In other words," said Johnson. "Don't reveal yourself if you don't want to be hurt," there was a murmur of agreement among their crew, and they nodded their heads to show they understood the severity of the conversation.

"Exactly. My brother used to say there was always someone stronger living next door. He meant you shouldn't get cocky because you're a bit tough. We should all take that advice; I think it could save our lives one day," Jonas noticed the poor expressions on his friend's faces and realized that he had been drowning their excitement. "I don't mean to be so negative. I'm not in a great mood right now; however, I'll try my best not to bring everyone down," he looked up into the breeze and found that he'd never examined the details of Hell's sky. The sun was white, but the sky glowed a brilliant, mysterious red that made the atmosphere feel evil. The clouds were a mixture of wispy whites, murky grays, and ominous charcoals, and they all littered the sky at varying degrees.

He looked down and saw the crimson weeds, the auspicious blades of red grass that blew in the wind, and in the distance, he saw giant trees with grayish-brown trunks and bundles of scarlet leaves blowing and swaying in dance. Jonas never thought he'd call Hell beautiful, but he felt that way after being deprived of outdoor scenery for so long.

"You're not bringing us down," Simon smiled, but he didn't want to annoy his grieving friend too much. "You're allowed to feel and mourn. No one here expects you to just move on after an hour. Their deaths will hurt for a long time, but eventually, you'll find yourself growing numb to that pain too."

"We all loved Ahmed and Jaden," said Johnson. "I'll be doing most of my crying tonight when I'm alone, so feel free however you need. Simon and I will support you. Whether you're crying or yelling at us, it doesn't matter because we'll be there," Simon nodded, and the two of them gave warm smiles to Jonas, who felt his icy heart melt a bit.

Yuki watched as Jonas nodded and gave a slight smile to his two friends, and she internally grimaced because she had failed so many times to make him feel better. Was their friendship not deep? Why did she have such a hard time connecting with Jonas in their moment of grief and pain? It made her question her feelings, and she began to see Jonas as if he was standing at a distance and not within reach. She opened her mouth because she wanted to say something inspiring or helpful, but no words came to her, and anything she could have said felt hollow and not worth much compared to Johnson and Simon's support.

The wait for the limo seemed like an eternity until the time was up, and through the tall wrought iron bars, Jonas could see a black vehicle approaching from the distance.

"Is that them?" Pete adjusted his eye patch, stared at the distant car, and anxiously tapped his foot. Jonas stepped toward the metal gate locked shut with a padlock, similar to the ones used on the slaves' cages back down in the Hurts gang. He was about to cut himself to use Original Sin when Theo called out.

"Wait, Jonas," Theo stepped forward and pulled a black chrome dagger with a golden hilt out of his pocket. "You left this back in the Hurts gang, but I thought you might like it as a souvenir," he grabbed the blade and held out the handle for Jonas to grab.

"A souvenir?" Jonas looked unconvinced. "Why would I want a reminder of Howard Hurts?"

"Howard said they custom-forged this dagger to look like a sacrificial knife used in Egyptian times. This knife represents sacrifice, doesn't it? It represents Jaden's sacrifice, Ahmed's, your own, and every other slave and fighter cut by it. Sacrifice stains this blade, and every time you use it to cut yourself, you're sacrificing yourself to commit an act of True Sin. I feel this knife is special and that you should have it."

"You have a convincing way of putting it," Jonas narrowed his brow and considered taking the blade.

"I used to be the DM for my Dungeons and Dragons group," he grinned. "Naming rare artifacts and giving backstories is kind of my thing. Take the Blade of Sacrifice and let it guide you on your journey to find your brother, oh great Crusader," Theo used his deep and powerful narrating voice, and while Jonas was inspired, the rest of the group was cringing.

"Does anyone in real life name their weapons?" Jonas grabbed the blade by the hilt and pulled it toward himself.

"Not really. However, every King Arthur needs an Excalibur, right?"

"I'd hope my Excalibur is more than a tiny toothpick made of modernly-forged stainless steel," Jonas shook his head and used the blade to slice his finger, which caused crimson blood to leak out. The practice had made perfect, and he found it much easier to coat the inside of the locking mechanism. Then he corroded the inside using True Sin, and with one hard pull, the lock broke.

"Well, it might not be Excalibur, but it'll come in handy when you need to make yourself bleed, right?" Jonas nodded his head, put the knife in the strap of his pants, and used a bit of True Sin to heal the wound.

The car got closer, and it became clear that it was a long, black, sleek limousine. Jonas threw the lock on the ground, pushed the gate open, and swaggered over to the side of the road while his companions followed behind him.

"Wow," Bannji whistled. "Your friend knows how to travel in style."

"Wait til you see their house," Jonas watched the limo pull up beside them, and men in black suits, black glasses, and strapped with swords and other weaponry got out of the front doors.

"Jonas?" One of the well-dressed men approached and stuck out a hand. "You look so different. My name is Toby. I worked the night we picked you up from the Dark Fly auction."

"Nice to meet you, Toby," Jonas shook his hand. "Did Phillip come with you?"

"No, Sir. We were already en route when the boss called and sent us to pick you up. He also said you needed body bags for your fallen companions?" He looked over and saw the two corpses held by Johnson and Ralph.

"We do," Jonas sighed and pointed behind himself. "Please tell your men to be gentle."

"Affirmative," Toby nodded and spoke to his fellows. "Get their companions wrapped and put them in storage for now. Be respectful," the other men nodded and opened the bottom storage compartment on the limousine. Then they pulled out two large black bags made from fabric and marched toward Jonas' crew.

Respectfully and effectively, the six men under Toby's command placed Ahmed and Jaden into two separate bags. Then they carried them toward the limo and safely stored them in the compartment.

"Mission accomplished, Sir," Toby spoke respectfully to Jonas, though the young man didn't know why. "Are you ready to leave?"

"Let's get out of here," Jonas and his companions didn't hesitate any longer, so Toby opened the limo door and gestured for them to climb in.

"It's huge in here," said Johnson as he climbed in. The manufacturer had raised the ceilings to fit someone of Phillip's size, and the vehicle was much bigger than a standard limo. Jonas climbed in and saw the familiar luxuries he had once taken for granted the first time he rode in the limo: smooth leather benches, a bar refrigerator stocked with refreshments, and television screens built into the wall.

"Alright," said Toby as he watched the last of them climb in. "Is this everyone?"

"It is," Jonas nodded and sank back into the leather seat.

"Then sit tight and help yourself to some refreshments while we bring you to the safe house. ETA is twenty minutes," Toby shut the door and left Jonas and his friend to sit and talk in privacy.

"Don't mind if I do," Pete opened the bar fridge, grabbed a can of beer, cracked it open, and began chugging its contents back. It took him seconds before he pulled the can back and belched loudly. "That's fucking delicious. Does anyone else want one?" As the car gently lurched forward to take off, Pete began throwing beers to his fellows.

"I'll take a bottle of champagne," Yuki turned her nose at the smell of the beer. Pete laughed, uncorked the bottle with a bang, and tried to fill a giant champagne glass without spilling any on the carpet. The first round didn't last very long, so Pete threw more beers and poured more glasses.

"To Ahmed," said Simon while holding up his drink.

"And Jaden," Pete lifted his beer and clinked it against Simon's.

"To freedom," Yuki lifted her glass, and they all drank after the toast was over. No one knew what the future held, but at least the next twenty minutes would be full of alcohol.

Thank you to my Gold Patron, PandaLady12

Tower of Hell: Caged and Confused, Book 1, Chapter 121

Because of my schedule change, your weekly big chapter of Tower of Hell will be posted on Monday evening around 7:30pm EST. This will probably continue for the rest of the year.

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Jonas could hear the voices of his companions calling out to him, trying to wake him from his deep slumber. The only reason he had yet to open his eyes and assure them of his safety was that he wanted to burn his dream into the back of his eyelids so that he didn't forget the things he saw.

However, he heard the desperation in their voices, felt them surrounding his body, and knew he couldn't wait any longer. His blue eyes opened, and the darkened ceiling revealed itself, along with multiple faces hovering over him, all with reddened eyes: Yuki, Simon, Johnson, Ralph, and Pete.

"I'm alive," Jonas coughed and ran his hand over the spot where the Maldread had ripped his heart out. "The Maldread?"

"Dead. Completely dead," Simon sighed. "We thought you were dead too."

"I was for a few moments," Jonas sat up and noticed all the dried blood and grime covering his body; his clothing was in shreds, and his hair was thick with filth.

"How did you do it?" Yuki narrowed her eyes.

"I think the question is, what did he do?" Johnson met eyes with Simon, and they came to an agreement with their gazes: they wanted to distract Jonas a bit longer before they had to break the bad news about Ahmed and Jaden.

"My Original Sin is to control my blood. I explained this before. I let the Maldread consume my heart because I planned to kill the monster from the inside. I used Sin Sorcery—True Sin to expand my heart until it crushed the beast's windpipe and suffocated it to death," the explanation sounded wild and unbelievable, but those who were listening nodded with understanding because they knew how crazy Sin could be.

"How did you grow a new heart?" Pete asked. They were all dying to know how their leader had instantly regenerated a heart within seconds—a feat that seemed impossible even with Sin. "There was this golden light, and your heart just magically appeared," Jonas wasn't sure how to explain what happened because he was unsure of the true answer. He thought back to the dream, and although most of it had faded away, he did recall when the Man of Light had shot forth a golden light and given Jonas a new lease on life.

"I got lucky," Jonas told half-truths and half-lies because he wasn't supposed to talk about the Man of Light. "I dreamed about my former master, and he healed me. I'm not sure what it means, but I'm alive and well, regardless."

"You said your former master was a powerful Sinner, right? You also said he was capable of healing," Simon nodded and realized that Jonas' dream might've happened. "It seems that he's powerful enough to heal you from great distances, and he even sensed that something was wrong with you. Very powerful, indeed."

"I agree," Jonas stuck out his hand, and Johnson pulled him to his feet. "That old quack is an asshole, but he came in clutch this time," he took a look around the room and grimaced at the horrible sight. It was like a gruesome battlefield, with corpses, blood, and body parts littered across the room. Jonas had difficulty telling who was who because the Maldread had killed so many slaves and low-level fighters. "Howard and Thomas are both dead?" Jonas didn't see them, so he assumed they had bitten the bullet.

"Garth, Xiao Lin, and the rest of the other gang leaders are dead too," Ralph had taken a tally. "We lost about sixty percent of all the slaves and fighters that we started the riot with," there had been over forty people that fought to escape the Hurts gang, and Jonas noticed less than half of them were remaining.

"Where's Ahmed?" Jonas noticed that his old friend was missing from their group. He saw his friend's faces fall, and his stomach clenched as his heart began hammering from anxiety. "Where's Ahmed?"

"Jonas, I'm sorry. Ahmed didn't make it, "Simon bit his lip and pointed at a corpse near the wall. "The Maldread tried to kill me, but Ahmed pushed me out of the way and took the blow. He sacrificed himself," but the teen wasn't listening because his ears were ringing and had stopped working, and there was a glazed look in his eye. Jonas slowly walked over to the body belonging to his dearest old friend. He hadn't noticed because there were so many dead people, but Ahmed's clothing, long ashen hair, and thick beard were unmistakable from the rest of the corpses.

Jonas bit his trembling lip and fell to his knees at the side of Ahmed, whose eyes were closed, and if the young man hadn't known better: he would have thought his dear friend was just taking a nap. Tears were building up in his eyes as guilt flooded his heart, and he suddenly recalled a part from the dream: Ahmed telling him it was all his fault.

"Ahmed," Jonas' voice broke, and he could no longer hold back the tears. They erupted, and hot liquid streamed down his cheeks as he tried to speak. "I'm so sorry, Ahmed. I'm so sorry," he whimpered as the realization of his friend's demise hit him with full force. Red liquid began dripping on Ahmed's clothing and skin, and Jonas wiped the tears from his eyes only to realize he was crying blood: he had unintentionally Sinned.

"Jonas," Yuki called out in her most delicate voice, and she was teary-eyed because her heart hurt to hear him cry. "It's not your fault. You know it's not your fault. Ahmed would never blame you for his death because he knew the risks."

"Just stop, please," Jonas didn't want to hear her reasoning. He knew that Ahmed would proudly die sacrificing himself for a friend and knew the old desert warrior wouldn't blame him. "Ahmed hadn't seen the surface in hundreds of years. He was going to escape and be free for the first time in forever," Jonas turned to face her, and she bit her lip because the bloody tear stains painted a menacing and miserable picture on his handsome face. "I was going to get him a job," Jonas choked. "He was going to be free!"

"Jonas," Simon tried to assure him. "Don't you remember what Ahmed said before we tried the escape plan? He said he didn't long for the outside world but would risk his life to help his friends escape—don't you see, he did just that. Ahmed had a warrior's death and died for his friends to escape. If anyone should feel guilty, it should be me because that killing blow was for me, and he pushed me out of the way. It's my fault more than it could ever be yours," a fresh wave of tears had built up in the corner of Simon's eyes, and they slowly fell down his cheeks as his lip quivered.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news," Johnson's eyes were watery, and he shook his head in frustration. "We lost one more," he pointed to the nearby corpse with fabric covering up the face. Jonas was so absorbed in his pain over losing Ahmed that he hadn't realized another crew member was missing. He turned his head with trepidation and recognized the body's skin tone and clothing, and his heart gave another lurch as he pulled the fabric and revealed Jaden's cold, dead expression.

"Jaden," Jonas punched the stone floor, and two knuckles broke from the impact. "How did he die?" Fresh bloody tears streamed down Jonas' face as new feelings of guilt and sadness filled his heart.

"He tried to land the killing blow on the Maldread, but he wasn't quick enough to dodge out of the way. He died quickly," Pete had watched the death of his young friend, and it played freshly in his mind.

"He had such a bright future ahead of him. He was going to be a baseball player," Jonas shook his head. "It's not fair. It's fucking bullshit."

"I know," Yuki put a hand on his shoulder. "He was a good kid and deserved better than dying from the Maldread in some God-forsaken sewer. Jonas, you know that Jaden was ready to die. He wanted to make the sacrifice, remember? He was faster than everyone else, and I think it's better that we respect—"

"Jesus Christ, Yuki, give it a rest," Jonas had lost control of his voice. "No one wants to die. That goes for Jaden, Ahmed, and everyone else murdered here. I don't care what they said during our meetings or the heat of battle because it's all bullshit. Ahmed didn't want his goddamn heart carved out, and Jaden didn't want to be half decapitated. Stop trying to give their deaths grand meanings because the truth is that everyone here died a meaningless death."

"Sorry," Yuki's hand left his shoulder, and she backed away quietly. She wasn't angry with Jonas because she knew he was in pain, but it hurt to fail in trying to comfort him; perhaps she didn't have the nurturing instinct to be able to help someone in tremendous pain. Yuki felt she was better off leaving well alone and allowing Jonas to grieve however he needed to, so she slunk away until she was no longer the focus of those who were mourning.

"You're right, Jonas," Theo spoke up. He wasn't crying because he hadn't known either Ahmed or Jaden for very long, but he still felt upset at their deaths. "Nobody here wanted to die from the Maldread. However, we knew beforehand that not everyone would make it. We were all prepared for that."

"Theo, stop yourself," Johnson clapped his shoulder. "Not every moment needs a pep talk or some feel-good grandstanding. Sometimes it's okay to shut up and cry," Theo could see that Johnson was still fighting tears from behind his bushy eyebrows and beard. Theo nodded and went quiet, but he didn't cry.

No one spoke for the next few moments. Jonas was kneeling next to the corpses of his two friends while crimson tears continued to pour down his face. He had never experienced feelings of loss like he was going through; his parents never really existed, so their deaths didn't count; Drake leaving him sparked bitterness and competitive desire more than feelings of despair and sadness. He wasn't sure what to do with the guilt wreaking havoc inside his heart or the images of Ahmed's ghost blaming him.

"Listen, I don't want to be insensitive," a man timidly broke the silence. "I'm sorry for your loss, and I appreciate you all getting me out of that cage, but I want to leave now because I can't stand being here anymore when I know the exit is so close. If it's all right with you, I'm going to type the password and exit through that door," many of the surviving slaves and fighters nodded their heads in agreement. They appreciated Jonas for killing the Maldread and felt sorry he lost his friends, but they all wanted to leave the Hurts gang more than anything. For some, it had been the most excessive suffering with their eternities.

"Go, you don't need my permission," Jonas's voice was husky and dry. "Thanks for your help, and I wish you all luck."

"Don't take anything from strangers, don't go out at night, and don't get blackout drunk," Johnson reminded. The fighter who had spoken up nodded and turned to leave, and nearly everyone in the room followed him. When he reached the door, he typed in the password until the light on the pin pad turned green. His eyes filled with wonder and excitement as he pulled open the door and revealed a narrow corridor that twisted out of sight.

"Let's go, but get ready for a fight," however, there were probably no Sinners guarding the bars or casinos, so the group of fighters and slaves would have an easy time getting back to Little Wrath City and the surface. The people leaving had a pep in their step, and they didn't look back as they finally made their way to freedom. Most would never forget Jonas Ariel, the teenager who had fought a Maldread and broke them free from years of slavery.

The crowd noise died down and left a small and intimate group consisting of Jonas, Simon, Johnson, Pete, Ralph, Theo, Yuki, and Bannji. They didn't speak to each other, and they sat among the dead bodies, mourning the losses of their friends, and occasionally their eyes would drift over to the exit. It didn't seem they were in a hurry to escape, even though they had sacrificed so much to open the doors of freedom.

"What do you want to do with their bodies, Jonas?" Simon was the first to ask. "We can bury them here."

"Not here," Jonas shook his head. "We're taking them to the surface, and they're getting a proper burial. Non-negotiable."

"That's a good idea. Does anyone know what religion Jaden belonged to?" Johnson asked. "For Ahmed, I don't know how a middle eastern Jewish funeral is supposed to look."

"I think Jaden was a Christian, so I supposed an ordinary funeral should be fine," Pete sighed and clapped Ralph on the shoulder. "Big guy, are you okay carrying one of our boys?"

"I'd carry both if Jonas let me," said Ralph. "Is everyone ready to get the fuck out of here?" His face was still sad, but they heard a hopeful note in his voice that inspired most of the group to get up and stretch. Jonas knew the rest of them wanted to leave, and they were being polite by waiting so long when the freedom they fought for was so close they could taste it. He sighed, wiped the bloody tears from his face, and stood up.

"I'll carry Ahmed. Ralph, could you take Jaden up with us?"

"Of course."

"Might be a stupid question, but is there any way to steal some money from Howard or the rest of the gang leaders?" Theo asked because he knew he had no funds for when he got back to the surface. "They all have their hell phones on them, right?"

"It's not a dumb question," Simon was the smartest of the group and took an interest in all things technology. "They build hell phones with anti-theft software that can detect the life force of their owners, and when someone dies, their phone will self-destruct. Then all their digital assets will be seized by the government unless they have a phone app called Inheritance. If you have Inheritance downloaded and pay a monthly subscription, your assets will be protected and passed down to a person of your choice. I don't think Howard Hurts left any of us in his will."

"That's unfortunate," Theo clicked his tongue while thinking of the hundreds of thousands of Sin Stones lost to them forever.

"None of us have to worry about money," said Johnson. "Jonas has employment all lined up for anyone who wants it."

"I'm not a Sinner, though," Theo wouldn't have mentioned money had he thought there was a job waiting for him once they left.

"That doesn't matter," said Simon. "None of us are going to leave you high and dry. It might take a few months, but Johnson and I will help you get your Sin Scars. We won't leave you until the day you do," his words made Theo smile warmly and nod his head.

Everyone was almost ready to leave when a foreign noise attracted their attention, and multiple eyes glanced over at the doorless entrance to the Hurts gang headquarters. Brow wobbled through the door, looking very messy and confused, while his swollen jaw was pink and puffy from where Jonas had kicked it.

"What the fuck," there were too many things going on for him to take all at once. His ponytail bobbled, and his yellow eagle eyes danced around the room as he glanced at all the dead bodies, gore, and the group of survivors huddled on one side of the room. Then his eyes bulged as they fell on the Maldread, and although he had never seen one before, he had heard of their appearance, and he subconsciously stepped backward. "What the fuck happened, Jonas? What the fuck did you do?"

"What does it look like happened, Andrew," Jonas cleared his throat and smiled devilishly at his former manager. "I knocked you out, so we could go through with our escape plan that we had made in secret. Then while you were sleeping, our riot had an all-out brawl with Howard Hurts, Thomas Vale, and a bunch of other gang leaders who had shown up with them after the fights. Then a fucking Maldread showed up and killed everyone. I killed the Maldread, and now we're here."

"Did he mention that the Maldread killed everyone?" Johnson chuckled at the stupid expression on Brow's face.

"Howard Hurts?" Brow looked around in disbelief, but Jonas pointed to a corpse in a suit.

"Dead. Everyone is fucking dead. Howard, Thomas, Xiao Lin, and Garth. That's just the four biggest assholes."

"We lost Ahmed too, and Jaden," Simon glared at Brow like he was daring him to say something clever."

"Unbelievable," Brow was numb and was still in disbelief, but he was starting to feel frustrated because the realization of Howard Hurts' demise was setting in. "You mean to tell me that after I finally get my position back, I'm back to square one?"

"Yes, Brow. Keep up. You're no longer a Vice President or employed by the services of the Hurts gang," Jonas rolled his eyes and stepped close enough to Brow that they could feel each other's breath. "In other words, you're back to square one."

"God fucking-fuck, Jonas. You ruined everything!" Brow shouted.

"Careful, Andrew," Jonas' voice was eerily calm, and there was a murderous glaze across his blue eyes. "Did you miss the part where I killed the Maldread?"

"Where the fuck did that thing originate? I don't believe a Maldread just showed up, killed everyone, and then died at your hand. A Maldread is something that entire government armies show up to destroy, and it isn't a creature capable of being killed by a teenager."

"I don't give a fuck what you believe. I did you a courtesy by explaining what happened, and now you're on your own. We're leaving, and if you dare try to stop us, Andrew, I'll break your fucking neck," Brow could hear a dark and devilish tone in Jonas' voice that told him to be careful, or he might lose his life.

"Relax. It's done and over with," Brow took a step back and shook his head. "I know you could all kill me, so I'm not even going to try to get you to stay. Let's just go our separate ways, right?" He looked hesitant at Jonas.

"I don't know, Jo," said Pete. "I say we finish the job and kill him too."

"Come on, Jonas," Brow was starting to look nervous. "I know you hate me, but I was also good to you too. I gave you benefits and helped you move up in the Hurts gang."

"You left me to die and got lucky that I was ultra-talented. You gave me benefits because it benefited you to do so. Don't stand there and pretend you treated me kindly out of the goodness of your heart. We really should kill you, Brow. How many people died because of you? How many innocent people did you enslave? If I let you go now, you'll just go to another gang and do the same thing."

"No, no," Brow was feeling very nervous. At first, he thought Jonas wouldn't kill him because of their recent goodwill toward each other, but his survival instincts were on fire because of the situation, and the conversation did not seem to be going well for him. "Listen, Jonas. I'll stop being a gang banger. I'll just go to the surface and become a talent scout somewhere. It's just like you said."

"I don't know, Andrew. You aren't very trustworthy. However, I'm not going to kill you today simply because I don't feel like spilling any more blood right now. However, if I hear that you're in a gang or enslaving people: I'll finish the job. Do you understand?" Jonas glared at Brow, who bit his lip and nodded his head.

"Good enough, Jonas. Thank you," he sighed a deep breath of relief and pelted off toward the exit door. Andrew Browner disappeared around the bend and was no longer Jonas' concern.

"You sure you don't want to kill him?" Johnson looked a bit disappointed. "That asshole treated us like shit."

"I'm going to try to believe that he'll change for the better. However, he'll probably go back to being a criminal, and it kills him. It's his choice on how he wants to live from now on and has nothing to do with me. Karma gets everyone at some point," and Jonas spread his hands out to gesture toward all the dead people around them who had committed atrocities against humanity.

"Then let's go. I can't stand another minute down here," Ralph scooped Jaden into his massive arms while Jonas slowly made his way to Ahmed, picked him up, and tried his best not to cry again.

Jonas led the way, and the group followed him out the entrance hall, past the metal doors, through a twisted hallway, through another door, and into a large room filled with rock music, slot machines, and confused drunk people. Ten minutes prior, an entire group of bloody and emancipated people had come through the backdoors, beat the security guards unconscious, grabbed a bunch of alcohol, and ran like their life depended on it. Ten minutes later, a second group was coming through, led by a teenager holding a dead body, followed by a massive seven-foot man and a rag-tag group of people.

Most of the people there had nothing to say, and they just continued playing the slots and drinking their liquor while unintentionally setting themselves up to be thrown in cages. No one tried to stop them as they made their way through the bar, and because security had tried to reach leadership to no avail, the ones who weren't unconscious had locked themselves in the staff room.

It didn't take long for them to leave the bar and casino, and eventually, they came to the familiar spiraling road of Little Wrath City, which began with doors and ended with giant man-eating crocodiles.

"Which way?" Jonas wasn't surprised that nobody cared about their group's appearance. Dead bodies and dirty people were a common sight in Little Wrath City.

"Do you remember how you got here?" Simon asked.

"I took the entrance protected by the Von Trip gang. I think it was this way."

Along the way, people occasionally pointed at Jonas and whispered, and he figured they recognized him as the undefeated Comeback Kid, formerly enslaved by the Hurts gang. It took nearly ten minutes because of the crowding and the occasional brawls, but they finally came to a metal door that had a sign above it glowing with green neon light.

"Von Trip. It's this one."

It was surreal how over a year had passed since Jonas last walked down the long dark tunnel that led back to the abandoned sewage plant on exodus street. Nothing had changed in his absence, and their group walked single file down the damp pathway.

"This leads to an old sewage plant, right?" Simon asked.

"Yeah, it's a hideout for the gang. Somebody new will have to take over now that Billy is dead," Jonas' voice was stiff from lack of emotion.

"I wonder why the government abandoned it?" Theo's voice echoed off the sewer walls as he stared at the river of water running next to them.

"Modern toilets in Hell don't need waste disposal anymore. They just make shit disappear—literally," Pete recalled a conversation he had in the past. "They're still converting a ton of them because it's expensive, but in a decade or so, sewage and plumbing will be a relic from the past."

"Great conversation, guys," Yuki shook her head and sighed. She was tired of being surrounded by men.

Thank you to my Gold Patron, PandaLady12

Tower of Hell: Caged and Confused, Book 1, Chapter 120

The survivors had no time to celebrate Jonas' return. They would've rolled their eyes in exasperation if they had the heart because only their crazy leader could wake up from a near-death beatdown, insult the Maldread, throw a rock at its genitals, and start charging toward it with a calm demeanor. However, their hearts broke from the recent deaths of Ahmed and Jaden, which took all their emotions and left them with emptiness and despair.

Seeing Jonas face the Maldread did not inspire them with confidence or make them feel better about the situation; it made them feel worse because they had already lost too much, and they didn't want to lose him too.

Simon's mouth fell agape, and he shouted, but Jonas ignored him. He had planned on grabbing him, but all was for naught because his good friend had a date with death. No matter how much they screamed and pleaded, their leader ignored them.

Jonas' Sin Scars lit up the room like two cross-shaped suns. The red light was blinding, and those nearby felt their eyes twitch in protest when they tried to stare at the back of his hands. The Maldread's mandibles opened wide and revealed pieces of human between its rows of bloody teeth. Its scabby muscles flexed as it crouched and leaped toward Jonas, who narrowed his eyes in concentration as he prepared to dodge.

He perfectly timed his movement with no energy wasted. As the Maldread landed, Jonas dodged its claws and punched it half a dozen times in the blink of an eye: he was moving faster than humanly possible—a type of speed that only True Sinners could reach. Pride fueled his punches, and each attack caused the Maldread's face to jerk while causing significant pain. It swung its claws, but Jonas easily dodged around them, so it tried to bite his head, but Jonas ducked, grabbed its slimy, fleshy dick, and yanked as hard as he could.

The Maldread's mandibles opened wide as it screamed in anguish as Jonas ripped half its cock off—one of its few weak points. Blood shot out from the eye-shaped slit between its legs and squirted everywhere as the Maldread danced around in a pain-induced rage: screaming and trying to murder Jonas. The Crusader tossed the slimy cock aside and smiled devilishly at the rampaging beast, which tried its best to impale Jonas through the chest and head.

"Help Jonas!" Johnson yelled, but Jonas held up a hand to stop his friends from joining him. "Stay back. I've got this," he didn't take his eyes off the beast because if he did, it could mean death. If he had glanced over at his friends for a second, he might've seen Ahmed's corpse with a hole where his heart should've been or Jaden's disfigured neck. Simon was the first to realize that Jonas didn't know two of his friends were dead, and he knew they were all doomed if their leader lost his concentration and went into a raging fit.

"Stand in front of Ahmed and Jaden," Simon nodded at the two corpses side-by-side near the back wall. "We can't let Jonas see them," Ralph nodded, and multiple people stood in front of their bodies, completely blocking them from view.

"What happened to him?" Pete whispered, and his one good eye widened in shock. "He's moving faster than I've ever seen, and his punches are doing more damage than all of us put together."

"He's become a True Sinner," Yuki limped next to the group. "I can feel his Sin has changed. The aura he's giving off isn't the same as before. I'm so confused as to why this happened," she took a sharp breath as she watched Jonas weave between the flailing claws, and each time the Maldread nearly took his head off.

"A True Sinner?" Simon furrowed his Brow. "Do you think he's strong enough to beat the Maldread?"

"No idea," Yuki bit her lip. "His aura is just as strong as Howard's was, and it seems he experienced some breakthrough or some understanding of Sin that he didn't know before. We'll respect his wishes—for now. However, if he starts to lose, half of you will take him and escape through the door, while a few of us stay behind as a sacrifice. I'll stay."

"Me too," said Simon, and every member of Jonas' crew nodded in agreement. "Well, we don't need all of us to sacrifice ourselves."

"Simon, Pete, and Theo will get Jonas out of here. Johnson, Ralph, and I will hold the Maldread back long enough for you to escape. Got it?" They didn't enjoy the idea, but they nodded their heads.

"For now, we watch," Ralph crossed his arms and continued to block the view of their fallen comrades.

Jonas was still fighting the Maldread in the middle of the room. He was dodging at speeds unbecoming of a human being, but the Maldread had instincts like a wild animal, and it sliced Jonas a few times, but the wounds healed so quickly that he wasn't bothered by the pain, and instead he let the dripping blood fuel his Pride.

The Maldread swiped its claws, and Jonas concentrated as he stuck out the palm of his hand and allowed the beast to slice it. Blood spurted out, coated his hand, and Jonas ducked under the next attack. He facepalmed the Maldread, and his blood smeared across the beast's face. Jonas imagined that the blood was burning; it was the antithesis of the Maldread.

There was another scream, and the Maldread grabbed its face because it felt like it was burning—Jonas had successfully made his blood acidic, and this time it was much more potent than when he had used it against Michael Davis. The beast thrashed and crashed against the wall, it shrieked and moaned, and it desperately tried to wipe the burning blood off its face.

Then it shrieked again because Jonas had smeared blood all over its unprotected back. It grabbed its back and revealed a terrifying visage: the attack had melted one eye while the other was reddened and squinted. Some of its teeth were visible behind the melted skin, and the attack had also exposed some yellowing skull.

Jonas wasn't sure which Sin Sorcery would work against the beast, but he was happy to see that his blood reached an acidity that could hurt the Maldread's flesh, much like Howard's flames. However, Jonas knew that the monster's healing factor was top-notch, and even though it was missing a cock and had half its face melted off, the Maldread would eventually heal if he didn't figure out how to deal it a killing blow.

The fight continued, and it seemed that Jonas was winning. However, the spectators knew that one good slash was all it would take to end the battle, which meant that Jonas was hanging on by a thread much more than he was close to winning a fight with the Maldread.

The beast was in so much pain that it was losing focus on killing Jonas and was starting to feel bits of fear mingled with its rage and hunger. Jonas was spilling his blood and using it as a weapon, and this strategy resulted in the monster looking worse for wear—much worse than any damage that Howard Hurts had done.

The Maldread was in so much pain that its attacks had become random, but this made things so unpredictable and increased the difficulty of dodging because it had no attack pattern that Jonas could memorize.

He was so confident in his ability to avoid the attacks that he felt like the Maldread could never touch him. However, his punches couldn't do enough damage to make the monster die, and his blood wasn't acidic enough to burn through the beast's bones, and only its rotting flesh was affected.

A few minutes passed, and Jonas noticed that its skin had started to repair, and he squinted his eyes while trying to think of what to do.

"What happened to the dagger?" Jonas shouted while keeping his eyes on the Maldread.

"Hold on!" Johnson ran over to Howard's corpse and grabbed the sacrificial knife that was lying nearby. "Incoming!" With great concentration, Johnson threw the blade across the room; it hit the floor and slid about six feet directly behind Jonas, who had been backstepping. Johnson had perfectly timed the throw because Jonas bent over and picked up the knife between the Maldread's flailing attacks.

The Maldread recognized the dagger in Jonas' hand, and its eyes widened with anger and fear. It stopped attacking and began screaming at the ceiling, and Jonas could tell that the beast was at its wit's end and its temper had gone past the breaking point.

It stared evilly at Jonas, huffed, then screamed once more. Then, something ridiculous happened.

A dim red light shone from the back of its hands, and Jonas watched in horror as two flame-shaped tattoos began to come to life, like tiny snakes crawling beneath the rotting flesh of the Maldread's hand.

"Sin Scars," Simon moaned. "It's got fucking Sin Scars."

The Maldread noticed the red light, stared at the back of its hand with confusion, and then looked toward Jonas. It didn't understand what Sin Scars were, but it did feel a new wave of power and anger that gave new meaning to its conquest to feast on Jonas' flesh.

Jonas subconsciously backed away. The Maldread was dangerous enough on its own, which meant it was even more deadly now that Sin was pumping through its veins.

"Don't panic, Jonas!" Yuki called out. "It doesn't know how to use Sin!" Although Jonas knew she was correct, he felt some trepidation about restarting the fight. However, the Maldread was itching to kill and screamed while charging toward him.

Jonas's Sin Scars glowed in protest as he dodged the oncoming assault, and the first thing he noticed was how much quicker the attacks had become: so much faster that he felt a panic in his chest.

He tried his best to dodge the onslaught of Sin-infused attacks, but eventually, he messed up his timing, and the beast's claws grazed across his chest. A wave of blood splattered outward, and Jonas gasped because the Maldread had carved three deep gashes.

"Jonas!" Simon knew that things had taken a turn for the worst.

"Don't fucking help!" Jonas yelled before they could interrupt or beg him to run. "I'm fighting this thing to the death! Do you hear me? I'm fighting to the death!" His voice sounded disdainful toward life, and Simon bit his lip because he had no idea what to do. They couldn't force Jonas to run away. If they tried to help, it might make things worse. For starters, one of them could die because they couldn't dodge as well as Jonas, and watching his friends die would shake his mentality and turn his Pride into Wrath. They could try escaping through the electronic door, but none wanted to leave Jonas behind.

Every person in the room felt like they had reached their mental breaking point because they had no idea how to help Jonas or make the situation more ideal for themselves.

Jonas picked up the pace and began dodging faster than before, and a new wave of Sin filled his body because of his willingness to face the creature to death, and his choice not to run had granted him more power to deal with the beast. He counter-attacked with the dagger and began swinging, stabbing, and punching. The blade sliced the Maldread's flesh, but when Jonas aimed for its heart or skull, it instinctively avoided death by moving out of the way. However, the Crusaders' punches had become like small explosions, and each time they hit the Maldread's bones, Jonas could feel them creak in protest.

Once again, they had reached a stalemate because both were healing nearly as fast as they could cause damage. The gashes on Jonas' chest had already sealed, as did the slices on the Maldread's body. When the beast inflicted more wounds on Jonas, the Crusader would continue dodging until his body had healed.

It was the craziest and most intense fight of his life, and Jonas knew it was more difficult than his fight with any of his previous opponents. The Maldread wasn't like Wolf because it had no deep thoughts, feelings, or fighting experience. It was a massive creature born from Sin, capable of destroying crowds of people in seconds.

When Jonas thought back to Wolf, he remembered when his opponent had been on top of him, ready to deliver the killing blow. Back then, he needed to be daring to win the fight and willing to make the ultimate sacrifice. It had cost Jonas a pound of flesh and a tongue to beat Wolf, and he knew it'd cost even more to kill the Maldread.

"Use your heart to kill that Maldread. Using your heart is always the right way to go," Jonas hazily recalled what Pride had said to him just before their parting. At first, Jonas thought it was just a feel-good pep-talk that Pride gave during his final moments. On second thought, the Sin Shadow wasn't one to honey up Jonas, and his last words were probably a hint on how to beat the Maldread.

'Okay, Pride. I'm going to put my trust in you one last time,' Jonas dropped his guard and waited for the right moment. His heart was beating a million miles an hour and protesting what Jonas had planned.

The Maldread stabbed its claws forward, and the change in the situation whipped the faces of his companions with shock and horror; Yuki screamed, and the Maldread's long, bloody claws pierced through Jonas' chest cavity.

The word pain wasn't worthy enough to describe what Jonas felt when the Maldread had pierced his skin. However, he knew that he couldn't lose concentration and that confidence would be the key to his plan's succession.

The Maldread screamed, pulled its arm out of Jonas' chest, and in its blood-dripping hand was a beating heart.

"No!" Jonas couldn't tell who else was yelling, but he heard desperate cries of disbelief as the Maldread lifted the heart to its mouth and swallowed it.

His limbs had gone numb as if they were no longer there, while the pain in his chest was the worst he had ever felt. Jonas' vision began to fade, and it felt like someone had poured cold egg yolk on the top of his head; it ran down his neck and made him icy and nauseous. He was mere seconds from falling over and dying—a regular person would have already done so. However, Jonas wasn't just any person.

"You gluttonous fuck," Jonas whispered as he used Sin and willpower to remain standing. "My heart isn't on the menu," he pointed his finger at the Maldread's chest cavity—he could sense the location of his heart in the beast's esophagus. 'Expand! Let the beast choke to death.'

It started as a small bump that grew to a fist-sized lump within a few seconds. The Maldread sensed something was wrong as it tried to breathe, but Jonas' expanding heart crushed its windpipe from the inside. The Maldread's eyes bulged, fear and panic filled its expression, and the beast opened its mouth, but no sound came out. It began clawing at the lump in its throat while desperately running around; however, it had no solution to breathe again.

Jonas hit his knees while watching the beast struggle for air until the monster could no longer stand up from asphyxiation, and it too fell to the ground; its evil eyes were panicked and reddened.

The Maldread turned its head and met eyes with Jonas, and for the briefest moment, they stared at each other. The Maldread made gagging noises, clawed at its throat one last time, and its eyes rolled into the back of its skull while its head slumped and hit the stone floor. Only then did Jonas lose the strength to hold on to life and hit the floor.

There were a few seconds of confusion and disbelief as the survivors tried to understand the strange turn of events that had just occurred. Jonas was desperately struggling against the Maldread, then he randomly dropped his guard and was speared through the chest, then the Maldread choked to death: it was a series of twists and turns that most of them had yet to understand.

"Jonas!" Yuki, Simon, and Johnson were the first three to come to life. They sprinted across the room, past the Maldread's unmoving body, and to Jonas' side. The poor teen was sprawled across the floor and had dark blood leaking from a large hole in his chest. His eyes were unblinking, and his friends couldn't see his chest moving.

"He's not breathing. Fuck, what do we do?" Johnson bit his lip, and his eyes were watering.

"Can we get his heart from the Maldread and put it back in?" Simon suggested, but Yuki shook her head and pointed at the giant lump in the beast's throat.

"Simon, getting that heart back out is one thing, but even if we did, I don't think it would fit. Jonas used his own heart as a weapon against that beast, and I doubt he planned on having it returned," tears also began filling her eyes as the realization of Jonas' demise hit her full force. None of them were capable of Original Sin, and none of them were capable of healing.

"What do we do?" Simon watched as the rest of the group slowly came over to check on Jonas and the dead Maldread. "We have to save him."

"Jonas has the greatest healing ability I've ever seen," Ralph's deep voice was just over a whisper. "If anyone could regrow a heart, it would be him."

"That's impossible, right?" Pete scrunched his eyebrows. "Regenerating a heart is a little too much," Yuki shook her head and brushed the hair out of Jonas' face. Big tear droplets built up in the corner of her eyes as if they were holding out for hope before they finally fell to the ground.

"He's regenerated his brain, regrew his tongue, and I've seen him come back from death more than once. Just trust that he can make another miracle happen," Simon nodded his head: his expression filled with religious fervor because he believed in Jonas more than anyone else.

Usually, when Jonas was near death or unconscious from a tremendous beatdown, he would awaken in the room of shadow and blood, and Pride would give him a lesson or insult him for being an idiot. However, the room was gone forever, and his Sin Shadow was dead, so it wasn't surprising that a dream had replaced them instead.

The dream that Jonas had was vivid and very confusing. There was a pale woman veiled in darkness who beckoned for him. He heard the loud sound of a ship's horn that echoed in his eardrums. The visions were unrecognizable: faces he had never seen and places he had never been. There was a blinding light from a beautiful star in the sky. The starlight illuminated the darkness and revealed Ahmed, who looked pale and ghastly. The old desert warrior was like a corpse with yellowing dead eyes and was slacked-jawed as he stared at Jonas.

'Ahmed!' Jonas tried to call out, but his voice wouldn't work. He couldn't reach his old friend anymore. Then Jaden appeared, and it looked as if he wanted to speak but couldn't because he was holding his throat too tightly.

"Your fault," Ahmed whispered. Then the starlight faded away, and the darkness swallowed both his friends.

Jonas tried to scream and chase after them, but in the darkness, he found nothing but a huddled figure on the ground. It was a skinny man covered in filth with bulging green eyes and taking soft raspy breaths because he had difficulty breathing. Terry Coleman stared lifelessly into the void as the last seconds of life drained from his body, and Jonas felt pity mingled with distaste. It was strange how such a background character like Terry could cause so much death and destruction.

Part of Jonas wanted to apologize, but he was angry at Terry because he felt like the young fighter had taken something dear to him but didn't know what it was. A few moments passed, and Terry took his last breath and was gone for good.

The dream changed once more, and Jonas saw more shadowy figures pass by him: one of them wore a crown, and another had wings. One figure was muscular and imposing, while the other was noble and proudly walked by.

Then he saw Old Louie, who grinned toothily and laughed at him. However, the laughing stopped, and fear filled his expression. Jonas felt something terrible and incredible behind himself, so he turned around and came face to face with the Man of Light, whose brilliance made it hard to see his features. All Jonas could see were curtains of silvery white hair and a warm smile.

"I'm always watching," he wasn't speaking English, and his melodious voice carried a tune of song and life that Jonas could understand. "Go with Old Louie. Do not mention me to others, and help the people while you search for Drake. I chose you for your goodness, so try to be good, even when it's hard. You have a heart of gold that darkness could never take, so use it to lead others into the light. Good luck, child of God," Jonas couldn't speak, couldn't move, and could only watch as the Man of Light summoned some mystical force and flicked it toward him. A golden light shot into the hole in Jonas' chest and filled it with a warm, brilliant feeling.

The Man of Light vanished from the spot, but the golden light remained. It vibrated in his chest and formed the shape of a ball, which eventually shaped into a golden-colored heart glowing with light and life. Then the wound closed shut, and he could barely see the golden light through the skin on his chest. His body had felt so cold and numb during the dream, but at that moment, it was full of life and warmth that made him sleepy.

Jonas knew that he was awake because he felt the cold mossy ground beneath his body, and he heard the voices of his friends standing around him. He didn't open his eyes because he wanted to take a moment to appreciate the dream before forgetting most of it.

The Man of Light had visited and spoken to him for the first time, but Jonas was too confused to understand what it meant. The Man of Light told him to help others and not to speak about himself with other people, which Jonas considered meant his presence was taboo.

He told Jonas to go with Old Louie, which meant that Pride was correct when he speculated the Man of Light wanted Jonas to take the Sin Assessment and that the deity had purposely put Old Louie and Jonas on the same path to meet.

Who were all the shadowy figures? Jonas couldn't recall them very clearly, but he did remember a pale woman who called out to him, and it seemed she needed help—the kind of help the Man of Light told him to give people. The Man of Light wanted him to be a good boy, but Jonas wasn't sure he wanted to be good anymore.

What else was there in the dream? He tried to stretch his memories, but the pieces were fading into nothingness, and all that was left were a few shadowy figures that slowly walked out of his mind.

His body felt light and comfortable, not what he'd expect after having his heart removed by the Maldread. There was no pain, and there was still a lingering warmth from the golden light that had touched and repaired his heart. Jonas knew that part of the dream was authentic because he could feel his heart beating and knew the giant hole in his chest had regenerated. He was alive and well.


Thank you to my Gold Patron, PandaLady12

Tower of Hell: Caged and Confused, Book 1, Chapter 119

There was a prolonged silence as Jonas stared at Pride. Physical and sexual assault? Jonas knew that he had suffered at the hands of his abusive foster parents, but never in his life did he remember being touched or molested by one of them.

"What do you mean, sexual assault? Who the fuck did that?" Jonas crossed his arms, and his voice had unintentionally raised in tone—it sounded stressed.

"There are blanks in your memories, correct? Mostly during your time staying at the various foster homes?"

"Yeah, but I was a kid," Jonas didn't think Pride would lie to him about things, but he was feeling defensive and unbelieving of the conversation. "I'm not going to remember every time they hit me."

"Childhood trauma, Jonas. Sometimes the other kids would hurt you—Drake took care of them. However, there were times when your brother was too young to protect you from the adults. Are you prepared to accept the memories that I've been holding back?"

"I don't want to relive them," Jonas bit his lip. "There's no point."

"Jonas, don't be a coward. You need to accept the part of you that you've rejected. It's the only way for us to be whole again. It will hurt and make you wish you hadn't seen the darkness that the Man of Light put you through, but you need to face this final hurdle. If you can't stomach your memories, you won't be able to battle the Maldread, let alone the monsters of Hell. Be brave, Jonas. I know you can accept these broken pieces of yourself."

"Goddammit," Jonas' heart was racing, his anxiety was like a stampede of wild horses, and every single cell of his body told him to stay away from those memories. "Fuck!"

"Will you accept me or not?" Pride stuck out his hand. "I owe my existence to the traumas that you went through: I am but a shattered piece of you that came to life through the power of Sin. Now, I want you to see how I came to be. Will you accept?"

"I fucking accept," Jonas took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes. "Show me," Pride reached over and gently touched Jonas' sweaty forehead.

"Let me show you the evil of humanity. Let me show you why I have no face, why I'm nothing but a dark shadow and let me show you why this room is full of blood."

First, Jonas felt his brain grow numb and swollen like Pride had filled it to the brim with some cold liquid. When the Sin Shadow removed his hand, Jonas felt a pounding migraine, deep anxiety, and a nauseous feeling in his stomach. He bent over and began dry heaving and felt like he was going to throw up.

"You're about to experience intense pain, Jonas. The fragmented memories are on their way. Don't fight it. You have to embrace the pain! It's just like your training."

"Embrace the pain," Jonas thought of his good friend, Simon. It gave him the strength to fight back the urge to vomit. "Let's do this."

Colors changed, shapes morphed, and Jonas lost sight of where he was. Time seemed to lose all meaning as his vision faded and ears rang with noise. It was like his existence had been snuffed out and replaced with a pair of eyeballs above the flickering scenes. It made him feel like a child playing in a dollhouse, and the actors of the memories were action figures and playthings to tell a story.

He and Drake lived at St. Michael's orphanage for quite a while, long enough that they had grown numb to the bitter cold and the sounds of children crying. Jonas saw his younger self beaten by the older children. He saw his blood spill across the floor and watched them kick and punch—all because he had received double treats for good behavior. The orphanage liked good boys, but the loveless children did not. Drake came and saved him; it was the last time those children hurt Jonas. However, what would Drake do about the adults?

The nuns forced the children to pray multiple times per day, and they whipped them for not remembering bible verses, and sometimes the head nun would lock them in God's Room of Penance, which was a small, dark room filled with Christian Imagery, crucifixes, and old bibles. It was a terrifying room that felt more like Hell and had nothing to do with God.

The nuns smacked and screamed at Jonas for misbehaving like the other children, and every time they threw him into God's Room of Penance, his heart grew cold, and he began wishing ill upon those around him.

He suffered for misbehaving and for being good; it seemed an impossible task to live a peaceful life. When Jonas was alone with his brother, he would cry his little heart out.

"Drakey, will mom come for us?" Jonas sniffled, and Drake looked confused as he shook his head.

"Mom is waiting for us back at home," Drake didn't understand what he was saying, but he knew it in his heart to be true.

"Where is she?" Jonas shivered in the cold, dark room where they slept. Drake put his arm around him, and his body grew hot, much warmer than a regular person could be.

"Somewhere better than here, she's waiting for the two of us. Do you feel better now?" Drake continued to grow warmer, and Jonas nodded.

"How are you so warm?" Jonas looked confused.

"A secret that you must not tell anyone. I can keep us both warm. I promise."

"Okay, Drakey," Jonas yawned and put his head on his brother's shoulder. "I don't like it here; they always pick on me 'cause I'm small."

"Be good," Drake whispered in his ear. "Be a good boy, and they'll leave you alone. If they don't, I'll take care of them. Don't worry. You be good for both of us, and I'll protect us."

"I'll be good for the both of us," Jonas closed his eyes and fell asleep in his brother's safe and warm embrace.

The memories of the orphanage continued, and the mistreatment and abuse got a bit better, but it was probably because his brother was so warm and kind. The present-day Jonas had felt every beating, cried every tear, and experienced every dark emotion his younger self felt during his time there. Even though the abuse had stopped, the sinful scars left by those who had mistreated him would forever be in his heart.

The scene changed, and their stay at St. Michael's Orphanage ended because the two brothers were to be adopted, and Jonas prayed to God that he and Drake would stay together. The Father answered his prayers, and the two went to live with the Goldstein family. It was much nicer there than anything they had experienced in the past. They ate warm food three times a day; Drake and Jonas each had a bedroom, and Mr. and Mrs. Goldstein met all their emotional and physical needs.

They had a new life full of love and kindness. Mrs. Goldstein would give them hugs and kisses and tell them how much she cared for them. She would cut the crust off Jonas' sandwiches, let him sleep with a night light, and give him presents. She bought Drake his first football and even promised to enroll him in boxing if he wanted.

"Mrs. Goldstein, does God love me?" Jonas asked one night as she was tucking him in for bed.

"The Father loves us all, but especially children. He adores their innocence. Now goodnight, my dear Jonas. I'll see you in the morning."

It wasn't often that Jonas slept so soundly, but that night he did.

Mr. Goldstein was a kind-hearted man and also gave Jonas hugs and kisses. However, it wasn't long before he gave more than hugs. Young Jonas would naively sit on his lap, and unspeakable things would happen in Mr. Goldstein's office room.

"You mustn't tell anyone about our special time," Jonas listened because he was a good boy. He must be a good boy.

Months passed; the seasons changed, and one day Drake stumbled into Mr. Goldstein's office during his and Jonas' bonding time.

There was screaming, there was blood, and a dragon had awoken. Drake was furious; he grabbed a pen and stabbed it into Mr. Goldstein's eye, and Mrs. Goldstein heard the commotion. She came running and saw the carnage, Jonas' clothes on the floor, and Drake holding a bloodied weapon. It was an unbelievable nightmare.

The police came and brought the two brothers back to the orphanage. However, Drake kept a much closer eye on his little brother. There was a coldness in his expression when he looked at anyone that wasn't Jonas.

Nobody knew what happened at the Goldstein house except for Drake and the state: Jonas didn't understand or remember, and Drake thought it was better that way.

The nuns whispered that Drake had tried to kill their foster parents, and that's why the police had returned them. The other children fed off the rumors and stayed away from both brothers.

Almost a year passed before they were adopted again, this time by a welfare-abusing creep named Sally, who also bred backroom dogs. Their new foster mother forced the children to work for their meals by doing whatever chores she made up for them. Many jobs were unsafe, and the children were often scarred and bruised.

The dogs would bark and nip at their heels if they got too close, but they never seemed to bother Drake: the mutts seemed scared of him and would avert his gaze. Sally kept all the children under intense supervision and locked them away in a small bedroom with bunk beds. They didn't speak to one another or make friends because if Sally heard them talking, she would use the dogs to threaten them. After the threat of being torn apart by dogs, Sally would starve them or beat them with a black leather belt. However, she always treated one child very kindly: her special helper. She would reward this child with treats and easier labor for reporting on the others. Jonas and Drake made sure to mind their business, do their chores, and keep on Sally's good side.

Time passed. Drake had grown more intelligent. Eventually, he stole Sally's cell phone and called social services, and the police freed the children from their servitude. She went to prison, and the state sent the two brothers back to the orphanage. The story barely made local news, let alone state. No one cared about half a dozen orphans that were predominantly black. Jonas barely remembered his time at Sally's house, and Drake thought it was for the better.

Then there was Frank Huff: their third foster home. He also used orphan children for welfare checks but wasn't smart enough to have them work and do chores. He didn't care what they did until he was drunk enough to get mad about it. Furthermore, he beat the kids senselessly, and the older Jonas watched as his younger self tried to grab a beer from the fridge but got caught by Frank, who gave him the beating of a lifetime.

Frank was not large by adult male standards, but he was still big enough to bully the children. Drake caught his foster father hitting his younger brother and put an end to the abuse. He beat Frank into a pulp, and there was so much commotion that the neighbors called the police. The state took the children from Frank, while Drake vowed to get out of the system. He was tired of seeing adults abuse his younger brother.

Jonas watched his childhood play out, and there were so many things that he remembered, but there were also so many things he hadn't realized had happened. There were beatings he didn't remember, and there was abuse from other kids he had blocked out—like the time in his new school when a bunch of boys jumped him for turning down a certain girl. There was also the time that Sally starved Jonas for a week for accidentally putting a hole in the drywall.

So many abusive memories flooded Jonas that it became overwhelming, and Jonas felt his heart plagued with sadness and anger.

"Don't you see, Jonas? Look what the Man of Light put you through," Pride's voice came from behind the memories.

"Why?" Jonas replied. "Why would anyone do this to a kid?"

"To make them strong. To make them know the suffering of life, and most importantly: to turn them into a Sinner. What a beautiful story: a Hellite raised among humans, abused and tormented, only to be sent back to Hell. I find it so poetic and mysterious. This Man of Light has something in store for you, Jonas."

"Fuck him!" Jonas spoke without knowing where he was because he was still stuck in his memories: forced to relive every evil thing that happened to him. "He won't control me, and he won't fuck with me anymore!"

"Oh, Jonas. You can say that all you want, but he will. He is our overlord; he watches over us and decides our fate."

"Then I'll—"

"Kill yourself? Don't be stupid. The Man of Light can control us in our next life. We're screwed, Jonas. You don't need to be so angsty and depressed about it because I think he will come in handy. Become powerful: as powerful as you can be. Take every advantage of the talent he gave you, and you'll find new answers and live a glorious eternity in Hell."

"Then I'll have to try and not let it bother me," Jonas watched his thirteen-year-old self molested by an older girl at a party—he thought it was normal. "I don't remember her."

"You were drinking," Pride's voice was delicate. "That was a party for older teens."

It wasn't the first time an older girl had taken advantage of him: one forgotten memory played, and Jonas saw his fifteen-year-old self passed out on his bed: drunk as hell, and he hadn't consented to the things an older girl was doing to him.

In the past, Jonas had too many gaps in his memories and wished he understood why they were missing. Now he felt bittersweet about the entire situation because Pandora's box had shown him the truth but also made him realize how fucked up his life was.

Not one memory held any significance in the context of Jonas' mysterious origin or what part of Hell he was born in—he hadn't expected this. Jonas should have known the Man of Light wouldn't leave any spoilers because he didn't want his little pawn to get sidetracked. Maybe there were clues or hidden information in the memories, but Jonas wasn't in the mental state to recognize them.

As Pride revealed each memory, Jonas realized his mistaken notion of what those memories would contain, and it made him feel stupid for believing he would get answers.

The memories continued to flicker until they stopped, and Jonas was pulled back into the room of Shadow and Blood.  However, the storm was so strong that it was destroying the very fabric of reality, and Jonas could see cracks in the sky.

"This room will be gone after today because it has served its purpose. It was a way of representing me: the shadow, and your powers as a Sinner: the blood. I don't particularly want to go, but I have no choice. It was never my fate to follow you on your journey. I had a choice: try to take over our shared psyche like some aggressive parasite or share your missing memories and disappear. It's obvious what choice I made," Pride's shoulders were firm, and he held his chin high.

"Why did you make that choice? It couldn't be easy knowing that you'll disappear if you gave me my memories, right?"

"Easy?" Pride clicked his tongue. "Not easy at all. There were moments I wanted to claim your body and make you disappear: the times when you were unconscious and unsuspecting were the most tempting. I would grow frustrated at your idiocy and your inability to stop getting yourself into trouble. It was those moments when I most wanted to take you over."

"What stopped you?"

"In the end, I'm a shadow of you. It's hard for me to do something against your inner nature—our nature. It's not your style: as you would say it."

"Pride," Jonas was at a loss for words, partly because his stomach and brain hurt but also hadn't expected the shadow to be so sentimental in his final minutes. "What am I supposed to do now? If it meant keeping you around, I wouldn't have wanted these memories back—I didn't need to see that shit with Goldstein, and I didn't need to relive every ass-kicking I ever got for me to know that the Man of Light has screwed me over my whole life."

"You beat the Maldread, escape this place, and take the Sin Assessment. Finding Drake is still the mission, and becoming a strong Sinner is still the way to do it. It might not seem like it, but those memories will help you grow, and the two of us becoming whole will be a boon for you. You don't need me anymore because you understand your Original Sin and know how to become stronger without me. It's time for me to go and for you to step up as your own man. You won't have me giving you advice or saving your ass anymore, and you'll need to rely on your talent if you want to survive the Overworld."

Jonas stared at his alter-ego. The entire situation was still surreal and unbelievable. The room of shadow and blood was slowly cannibalizing itself, while Pride was about to disappear forever. Jonas had gotten his memories back, but the cost was more than he could afford. Jonas relied on Pride and the room of shadow and blood for over two years, but he was about to lose that part of himself forever. They were pieces of his life that had been there for all his worst moments in Hell, and it was hard to remember what life was like without them.

"If there was anything in those memories worth knowing, I missed what it was," Jonas was stalling for time.

"Drake said your mother was waiting for you somewhere better. Perhaps he retained some memories or feelings from his time in Hell: he was older than you when you were both sent to the orphanage. There was also the way he warmed you both using his body heat. I suspect he was using Sin Sorcery: a tremendous feat for anyone in Hell, let alone a little boy."

"Do you think Drake was hiding things from me? Do you think he knew about Hell or our past?" Jonas was starting to believe that his big brother was much more in the know than he had previously shown.

"When you two died, Drake was the first to guess you guys were in Hell. He didn't seem very nervous or scared, and I noticed a lingering aura of Sin around him. If it took you over a year to learn Original Sin, I wouldn't be surprised if Drake surpassed you in a few months and already took the Sin Assessment. Of course, this is just speculation. He could be rotting in some cage for all I know."

"Not Drake. I bet he's discovered Sin and maybe even uncovered some hints about our past. I need to find him and ask if he remembers our origin."

"Unfortunately, it will be without me," Pride smiled. "This room won't hold on anymore. It's time for us to part."

"Will you truly be gone?" Jonas felt his eyes begin to water. "I'll do anything if it means you can stay alive."

"I'll always be part of you. I'm your Sin Shadow, so as long as you're a Sinner, I'll be there in the darkest part of your heart. I'm your Pride, and when I'm gone, I expect you to stand tall against the odds, not back down against the bullies, and to be the cocky, talented youth that I've trained you to be. I might give you a hard time for being reckless, but that's who you are deep in your heart. You are Jonas Ariel, and you will stand the test of time. Find your brother, and discover the truth of who we are. One day, Jonas, I hope you meet the Man of Light and punch him in his smug face. Don't let the bullshit he put you through make you lose yourself. Oh, and use your heart if you want to kill that Maldread. Using your heart is always the right way to go," Jonas went quiet as the room of Shadow and Blood began to fade away. "Goodbye, Jonas."

"Bye-bye, Frydee," Jonas fell unconscious and disappeared from the room. Pride looked into the eye of the storm and sighed loudly.

"I'm sorry, Jonas," Pride finally let go of his burden, and he and the room disappeared forever.

Yuki was limping because the Maldread had mangled one of her legs during a mistimed dodge. Only a few seconds had passed from the moment she had left Jonas’ side, and during those long seconds, she could only pray that the creature didn’t turn his attention to her unconscious lover.

She had so many regrets as the monster approached, and she wondered if everything she did was for naught. If the Maldread killed Jonas, would her struggle have been fruitless? She had one last plan to save him, and the plan would cost her life.

“Take Jonas and run!” She screamed to those who were still alive and conscious. "You know the password, so leave through the door and get the fuck out. I'll hold it off. Go!"

She didn’t care about their opinion because she was a Hunter, and this last dance with the devil was her final hunt. Her Sin Scars began to glow as she dodged each attack from her prey, and she felt more power course through her body than she had ever felt before.

When was the last time she truly felt happiness? She thought back to her childhood in Japan. Before her marriage to her husband, she had been the child her father doted on the most. No, that wasn’t happiness: it was living in the shadow of a warlord. Then there was her very short-lived marriage, which was not a memory she could say was happy. A memory revealed itself, and she recalled the time that Jonas had asked about her dream and told her the idea of a home for girls was a good idea.

Her thoughts broke as a massive fist struck her across the chest and sent her crashing against the wall. She slowly raised her head and watched as the Maldread approached her, and that slit between its legs opened, and its long slimy cock slithered out. The Maldread crouched in front of her while sniffing curiously.

Its long barbed tongue fell out of its mouth and slowly slithered towards Yuki’s face, but before the Maldread could have a taste, it turned its head on the spot because something caught its attention. Someone flung a stone across the room and hit the beast across the face. Although it wasn't enough to hurt the Maldread, it did piss it off.

"Get the fuck away from her," Jonas was conscious and was marching across the room toward the Maldread. The previous fight had turned his clothing into scraps, and dried blood covered his body, but it looked like his injuries had been repaired. His eyes were cold, his expression was like stone, and he seemed to be an entirely different person. He threw another rock and hit the Maldread in the dick. It shrieked in pain, ignored Yuki, and charged toward its most hated enemy.

Thank you to my Gold Patron, PandaLady12

Tower of Hell: Caged and Confused, Book 1, Chapter 118

The Maldread swung a massive claw right at Jonas' head, and he skillfully ducked underneath it and flanked around the creature like he had envisioned. The monster turned on the spot and charged toward him, only this time, the Maldread's attack came much more quickly than the first.

It grabbed him by the foot, and Jonas felt his entire body flip upside down. The beast flung him side-to-side, and his head jerked back and forth as the Maldread brought Jonas close to its open mouth. It was ready to devour him whole.

“Now!” Ralph summoned all his strength and leaped onto the creature's back, and he wrapped his massive biceps around its throat, and as he did, the group of fighters charged forward and flung themselves around the arms of the hulking beast. Being attacked by so many people shocked the beast, and it threw Jonas through the air, and he flew across the room and didn’t stop until he hit the stone wall and came crashing to the floor.

As blood poured from a gash in his skull, the last thing Jonas saw was the image of a handful of bloody slaves desperately trying to hold back a giant monster. Jonas’ eyes closed on their own accord, and he fell into a deep sleep.

“Now die!” Howard shouted as he wound up his body and threw the ball of flames toward the face of the Maldread. The creature's instinct kicked into overdrive as it completely ignored the ants crawling all over it, and it turned its head to avoid the flames, and as it did, a small explosion occurred.

The monster screamed in fury because the attack had left a fist-sized smoldering hole in its neck, and the impact from the blast was enough to knock it off balance. However, because so many people had been holding it, the creature remained firmly rooted to the spot as it struggled to free itself. As the Maldread recovered from the attack, Jaden leaped into the air.

Not even for a second did Jaden consider that his strength might not be enough to harm the beast, and as he stabbed toward its skull: he put every ounce of power he had behind the attack. The blade embedded itself right through the side of the monster's skull, and Jaden pushed with all his might, but unfortunately for him: the dagger wouldn't go any deeper. Hope drained out of him—he had failed.

“Move!” Yotama Yuki pushed him out of the way and wheeled herself around. She darted forward, leaped gracefully into the sky, and swung her body around to perform the best flying kick she had ever attempted. Her foot hit the hilt, and the blade was pushed deeper into the skull of the Maldread. The monster moaned terribly as the blade pierced its brain.

“Run!” Ralph boomed as he finally let go of the bucking beast, and everyone followed suit. The Maldread flailed its limbs like a toddler throwing a tantrum, and as it did, Yuki ducked just in time to miss having her head blasted off by its sharp claws. One person, however, wasn’t quick enough to dodge.

For a moment, Jaden didn’t realize that the creature's claws had barely scratched his neck, but as his hands trembled upward: a fountain of blood gushed out from his jugular. His eyes widened as he tried to stop the bleeding, but he quickly lost feeling in his legs and tumbled backward until he hit the cold, mossy floor.

“Young Blood!” Pete shouted, but he couldn’t run over because the Maldread was giving one last feeble attempt at killing them as it blindly scratched and clawed at anything in its personal space. It tripped over unconscious slaves—killing them in their sleep—until it crashed into a stone wall and fell over.

Jaden stared up at the ceiling as he felt the life drain out of his body. His fingers tightly enclosed around his neck, but it wasn't long before they grew numb, and he lost all feeling in his hands, and they fell to his sides. He tried to speak, but no words could escape the gurgling and choking sounds ushered from his throat as he died slowly and painfully.

‘Jonas, I failed,’ his eyes glazed over, and the brilliant light that filled his eyes had vanished. Death had immortalized the expression of terror on his face, and his consciousness went dark, and Jaden Jackson ceased to be.

“Die, die, DIE!” Howard screamed as he watched the monster bounce off the wall and fall to the floor. It gave desperate cries and scratched at the dagger embedded in its skull, clumsily trying to pull it out. The creature failed in its attempt, and instead of pulling it out, it accidentally pushed it in deeper so that the hilt was nearly invisible. The Maldread gave one last cry, and then it huddled its knees together on the cold floor like a sad and lonely child.

The fighters watched as its hulking figure slowly breathed and bemoaned sad whimpers. Eventually, the noises died out, and the monster stopped moving. The silence that followed was strange, and the only noises left were the ragged breathing of the bloody slaves.

“It’s dead,” Johnson was the first to speak. “It's fucking dead, right?"

“We lost Jaden,” Pete looked miserable as he walked over to the corpse of their fallen friend. He gently used two fingers to close Jaden’s eyes and then ripped a piece of cloth from his shirt, which he used to wrap and cover up the gruesome wound on Jaden's neck.

Sadness overtook the hearts of those who heard the proclamation. Johnson, Simon, and James felt their backs hit the stone wall as they slid onto their asses – their expressions were crestfallen, and tears threatened to leak from their eyes.

“Jonas isn’t going to take it well,” Simon whispered. "You know how he is: he wears his heart on his sleeve."

“I can't believe he's dead,” Johnson bit his lip. "Before the breakout, he told me that he had plans to become a baseball player, and now it'll never happen. Fuck, it isn't fair.”

“Jaden was a good kid. He didn't deserve to die down here, nor so brutally. He deserved better," Simon buried his face into his hands. "Both of them—Jonas and Jaden—they both deserved better. What a fucking terrible hand they were both dealt."

“Jaden's gone, but Jonas lives. We need to help him cope and make sure he doesn't beat himself up over this because you know he will. He'll blame himself and put Jaden's death on his shoulders,” Johnson exhaled a deep breath. "We'll support Jonas and help him through this."

“You're right, we will,” Simon wiped the tears from his reddened eyes. "Jonas needs his brother. The responsibility to keep his head straight until he leaves for the Sin Assessment falls on our shoulders."

“I'll check on Jonas,” Yuki ran across the room toward his bleeding and sleeping figure. Looking at him closely, she grimaced at the blood pouring from the wound on his head, and hot tears began to leak out of her eyes as she saw the state of his mangled body. Slowly, she lowered herself next to him and then gently lifted his head and laid it on her lap, and she wiped the tears from her eyes because she wanted a smile to be the first thing Jonas saw when he woke up.

“What are you doing?” Ralph boomed, and everyone turned their head to see Howard Hurts walking toward the dead Maldread.

“Just checking to see if it's dead. All would be for naught if it weren’t,” Howard reached the creature's side before anyone could stop him. He slowly traced a finger on the creature's neck and didn't feel a pulse. The monster was dead. His curious fingers playfully grazed the monster's disgusting skin, and they slowly treaded upward until they found the dagger. Like a knight pulling a sword from a stone, Howard dug his hands into the monster and used all his strength to yank it out.

“Why the hell would you do that?” Ahmed was shocked. “Are you so attached to that knife that you would risk all of our lives for it?”

“It's dead,” Howard chuckled. “And I paid a lot of money for this knife. I’m not leaving it stuck in the brains of some worthless monster. An Egyptian smith crafted it for me. It's supposed to resemble those old ceremonial knives the priests used to slaughter slaves when they made sacrifices to their gods.”

“Thanks for the trivia,” Ahmed rolled his eyes.

“Speaking of slaves,” Howard licked his bloody lips, raised the dagger, and pointed it at Ahmed’s chest. “Get back in your fucking cage, slave.”

Howard had spoken with his most intimidating voice, his Sin Scars glowed violently, but he was surprised to hear a bout of laughter from some slaves—including Ahmed.

“Are you off your meds?” Johnson chuckled. “Check out stumpy over here trying to keep us as his slaves after everything that happened,” Howard felt his face go rather red when he heard Johnson make fun of his new disability, but it didn’t change the fact that he had lost way too much to let them go. Garth and Xiao Lin were dead, as was Thomas Vale. If Howard let Ahmed, Yuki, or Jonas go: he was finished.

“You fucked everything up for me,” he snarled as he glared at Johnson. “I might not be as strong as I once was, but I’m still Howard fucking Hurts, and last time I checked: you’re my slaves. Now, get back in your fucking cages!”

“Howard,” Ahmed shook his head. “We both know that isn’t going to happen. We both know that you can’t take us all down."

“GET IN YOUR FUCKING CAGES!” As he screamed, Howard Hurts didn’t look as cool and calm as he once did. He looked pitiful as his gelled bangs flopped forward, giving him an awkward-looking hairstyle.

“Then we fight to the death,” Ahmed sighed. “It’s not going to go the way you think,” but Ahmed was distracted by something that made his mouth fall agape. The recently deceased Maldread began to stir and slowly rise from the ground. Noticing Ahmed’s expression, Howard quickly turned his head to look behind himself, but as he did, horror and dread filled his expression.

Not only was the Maldread alive, but the wound on its head had begun to heal, and only a tiny bullet-sized hole was left. The monster opened its mouth and roared as it slowly approached Howard Hurts, who was trembling with fear.

With one fluid stab of its hand, the Maldread impaled Howard through the chest, and from the opposite side, the survivors could see his beating heart grasped in the blood-covered hands of the monster.

“How?” Johnson whispered as horror overtook his body. Each of the slaves watched as the recently resurrected Maldread lifted the heartless Howard off his feet, and as it did, Howard slid farther down its arm until he was face to face with the creature.

Howard tried to speak, but his words were drowned by the blackish blood pouring from his mouth. His eyes widened, the dagger gripped in his one good hand hit the floor, and life drained out of his body. The Maldread opened its jaws, placed Howard’s head inside, and with one swift bite: the strongest gangster in all of Little Wrath City was dead.

Even in death, Howard Hurts had managed to fuck them one last time, and each of them realized that the Maldread must have healed once Howard had pulled the dagger from its skull.

“God saves us,” Simon whispered as his eyes began to water. The Maldread flung Howard’s body off aside and stared menacingly at him—like he took affront to Simon asking for God. Swallowing the mouthful of human that it still had in its mouth, the monster screamed in delight as it charged toward Simon.

“No!” Johnson froze, and his legs wouldn't move. He wanted to push Simon out of the way, but it was too late.

While watching the monster charge toward him, Simon couldn’t help but feel regretful that he would never get to see his daughter: he wanted to apologize to her. He would never see his wife and get a chance to make up for his past mistakes.

The creature was aimed for his heart and was sure to kill, but before the Maldread could impale Simon, he felt his entire body blast out of the way and hit the cold stone ground. Someone had come to his rescue and saved his life. Who had pushed him out of the way? For just the briefest of seconds, Simon felt grateful, but that was until he saw who had saved him and what had become of them.

“Ahmed!” Simon cried. The Maldread had impaled the old warrior through the chest, and he suspended him in mid-air. For just a moment, time seemed to stand still, and in his final brilliant hour, Ahmed turned his head to meet the eyes of Simon.

“Take Jonas and run,” he whispered, and then the Maldread threw his body across the room and tossed his heart into its hungry mouth. There was no time to scream or mourn, and as soon as the creature finished swallowing Ahmed's heart, it turned its head toward a new target and charged.

“Yuki!” Johnson screamed. “Run!” Yuki was still seated with Jonas’ head on her lap, and she watched as the monster approached her. With all the speed and power she could muster, she rolled to the side and began sprinting away from the creature. She hoped that it would keep its attention on her and not Jonas.

Yuki got what she desired. As the creature skidded to a halt, the two began a game of cat and mouse, where she would only avoid death by a hair each time the monster swiped its claws at her head.

Ahmed was bleeding to death on the ground, but his strength as a Sinner was a curse that kept him alive longer than a regular person could.

‘Jonas,’ he whispered in his heart as his vision faded. He hadn't the power to speak aloud, but he hoped that his young friend could hear him. ‘I cannot tell you how much I long to breathe the air of freedom, but the air I crave is not that of Hell, but the desert air of my home,’ a million thoughts ran through his mind, and it seemed like an eternity ago that he had been nothing more than a simple goat herder. ‘Life is so strange and unfair. I had a lifetime of hate and war, then another filled with slavery. Now I'm destined to die. Will I be forced to live another miserable life?'

There were no words to describe the emotions Ahmed felt in his heart as he slowly died atop the cold, mossy floor of the sewers. ‘Jonas, I’m going on with you. I long to see the faces of my family, and who knows, maybe I’ll see them on the other side,’ Ahmed knew the only thing that would be greeting him was a new life full of amnesia, solitude, and confusion. ‘Jonas,’ he wished that his young friend could hear his final words.‘Heartache and peril fill your path ahead, so please believe me. You must not give in, and you must not make wasted movements, and you must believe in yourself, and if that ever becomes too difficult, then try to believe in those that follow you—just as I believed in you—just as I still do…’ then he closed his eyes, and prepared himself for the next journey.

Jonas didn’t know that Ahmed was speaking to him. He didn’t know that they had beaten the Maldread once, nor that the monster had risen from the grave and was wreaking one last final assault against those he held dear.

He did, however, suspect something was wrong because he stood in the familiar room of blood and shadow. The bloody ocean that stretched endlessly was turbulent and disturbed because a storm occurred in the distance. The very air inside the room seemed to be moving in a manner that resembled air escaping a balloon; Jonas felt that the room had a crack in it, and his rising anxiety told him that something was very wrong.

"Ah, Jonas. I'm afraid I have bad news," the shadow named Pride stood on the crimson-glass balcony and stared toward the center of the storm. He sighed, turned his head, and locked eyes with Jonas. For a moment, the two of them stared at each other.

"That can wait for later," Jonas kept calm but knew he hadn't time to spare for idle chit-chat. "You know there's a fucking Maldread rampaging right now. Pride, you need to wake me up. We can discuss whatever you want later."

"Unfortunately, this can't wait. Don't worry about the time, Jonas. An hour here only represents a few seconds in the real world, so there's time for us to speak."

"Then speak," Jonas looked impatient, but he knew that Pride usually had unique information to share. "Hurry up because we need a strategy to beat that Maldread. Those things are fucking insane."

"That Maldread is nothing—a runt. The fully grown ones are unstoppable monsters capable of wiping out entire cities. I felt it was born from Terry Coleman as soon as your battle with Howard Hurts started. However, even a baby Maldread has skin so tough that it's near impenetrable, and even if you do break through its hide, you'll be shocked to see how fast it heals, almost as fast as you."

"You felt it being born? You could have warned me, and we could have escaped earlier."

"You needed to focus on your fight with Howard Hurts. This battle is important because it decides the fate of you and your companions, does it not?"

"Whatever," Jonas shook his head and knew better than to argue with Pride, who would rarely admit defeat. "What do you need to tell me that's so important?"

"Do you remember how I told you that one day I'd reveal to you the secrets that I've been keeping?"

"The ones about my childhood and my existence? Yes, I remember," Jonas narrowed his eyes, and his heart jumped. How could he possibly forget about the promise of honesty that Pride had made? "You said you'd tell me everything when I was ready."

"You're not ready. However, I don't have much time left, so it's either now or never."

"What do you mean?" Jonas looked visibly confused. "Not much time left? Where are you going?"

"I once told you I felt like possessing your body and taking the reins of this life while you watch from the shadows. I fought the urge and realized soon that I was beginning to fade away. Jonas, you've grown in strength, and with every second you grow closer to becoming a True Sinner, I feel my existence fade away. I have maybe weeks left to live, but tonight you'll need a burst of strength beyond anything you've ever summoned, and it will come at the cost of my life—this is why I need to tell you some things now and to show you the secrets that I've been hiding. This moment is my last chance to tell you all the things I need to tell you."

"Pride," Jonas was at a loss for words, and his anxiety did most of the talking because his beating heart was so loud enough for Pride to hear it.  For as long as he could remember, Jonas yearned for the mysteries and secrets of his past, but he never wanted to learn them at the cost of someone he cared about, and Jonas did care about Pride no matter how annoying he found him. "You don't have to use your life for anything. We can find another way to beat the Maldread."

"I've already told you, my existence was fading long before the Maldread showed up. The situation has sped up the inevitable, and I prefer it this way. Now, are you ready?"

"Not really," the reality hadn't set in yet, and Jonas was still in a state where he didn't accept what was about to happen. "But, I'm listening."

"Good," said Pride. "You've already accepted you're a Hellite sent by the Man of Light to live among humans, right?" Did Jonas accept this? He felt Pride had forced this revelation on him. Jonas sighed and nodded his head.

"I'm a Hellite, sent by a mystical being to live among the people of Earth. I accept it."

"Good," said Pride. "This saves us time. I don't know why he did it, but I suspect it's because he needs you for something. He sealed your powers, left you to experience great tragedy, and set you on a course that involved Little Wrath City, Old Louie, and me. The Man of Light wants you to experience the things you've been through because he needs you to be strong. Mentally and physically strong."

"Are you kidding me? How could he possibly know I'd find Old Louie or Little Wrath city?"

"Because the Man of Light is all-powerful. Not God, but very close. He's strong enough to influence fate itself, and if a figure like that needs you for something, you know that you must be special."

"That doesn't make any sense. No all-powerful deity capable of bending fate needs me to do anything. You might be wrong this time."

"Jonas, I need you to accept the things I say. What I'm saying isn't guesswork anymore. These are facts I know to be true. With our last moments together, I wouldn't be telling you if I wasn't sure I was correct."

"Okay, continue," Jonas felt his mouth grow dry when he heard that it was his last moment with Pride, but part of him still didn't accept that the end was near.

"I don't know what the Man of Light needs you for, but it involves you becoming a strong Sinner. We know that a True Sinner needs four things to be successful: a background as a Hellite, a strong body, a brilliant personality, and a ruthless spirit. Whether you've realized it or not, you have all four. Your fate isn't to die in a sewer, Jonas. The man of light created you to do much bigger things. Me, your friends, the Old Quack—we're all just cogs in a machine that exists to help you grow so that you may one day be ready to take on the role that the Man of Light needs you. Everything you have been through has been to prepare you for the moment that he will appear and give you whatever mission he has stored for you."

"My fate isn't under my control?" Jonas looked angry. He didn't like the idea that the Man of Light had fabricated all his experiences and relationships under the guise that he needed Jonas for something.

"I said that a True Sinner needs four things to excel. The first is having a background as a Hellite, and you check this box off. We don't know who you and Drake's parents are, but we know they're here in Hell. Not only are you a Hellite, but you've got good blood, and it's the kind that makes you feel proud of your heritage. You come from a line of strong Sinners: I know this because your talent is too great for the truth to be anything else."

"I don't plan on looking for my parents, so our heritage doesn't matter."

"If the Man of Light decides he wants you to meet your parents, you will. That's the power and influence he has on your fate. The second thing you need as a True Sinner is a strong body. You've always been athletically gifted, but what you needed was a body that was hammered and forged by fire. Your time in Little Wrath City equipped you with a physically dominant body that can take and give a beating. You've fine-tuned your martial arts, though they still need some extra work, and you've reached the pinnacle of speed and strength without further manipulation with Sin, which means you also fulfill the second category. The last two categories are a brilliant personality and a ruthless spirit. This part is where the Man of Light is most devious. Drake is responsible for most of your personality traits, and it's his handiwork why you are the way you are. Drake's influence will forever linger in your personality, and he forged you into a good person with an infectious personality that is strong enough to manage your power."

"So even Drake is a product of the Man of Light? This conversation gets more surreal as it goes on. Am I even a real person with free will? You're telling me that everything and everyone I've ever loved is a product of someone else's will. That's terrifying and disgusting."

"It gets worse. You now have a ruthless spirit, and a True Sinner needs this most of all. The age-old question: can a Sinner be a good person and be strong? The answer is no. You need to get your hands dirty if you want to be able to hang with the best of them. Jonas, the worst part of this situation is not that your fate isn't in your hands. The worst part is all the tragedies that the Man of Light has forced you to endure—past and present because he wants you equipped with raw ruthlessness. The kind you need to survive in Hell. He fucked up your whole childhood just so that you'd always have this twisted spirit inside of you that was ready to murder when need be. That's the worst part, in my opinion, and it shows how devious and shitty the Man of Light is."

"My childhood sucked, but I don't understand how that's the worst part," Jonas shook his head. The things he experienced hadn't been pleasant, but he held no grudge because Drake had been the shining light that helped him through his childhood, and his brother's love overshadowed the tragic memories.

"You don't remember it all," Pride shook his head. "You blocked it out. I told you this before."

"Blocked what out?"

"The physical and sexual abuse of Jonas Ariel."

Thank you to my Gold Patron, PandaLady12

Tower of Hell: Caged and Confused, Book 1, Chapter 117

Although he hadn’t learned much about Maldreads from Old Louie, Jonas would’ve wanted to learn about the deadly creatures' unnaturally quick instincts.

Unfortunately, Jonas watched firsthand as the creature instinctively turned its head, which saved most of its face from the flame. The ball of fire exploded against the back of its head, and the creature tumbled to the ground. Its flap-like jaws opened, and saliva sprayed the floor as it screamed like a toddler in tremendous anguish while it rolled around and writhed like a snake.

“Now!” Jonas screamed. Howard darted towards the Maldread—dagger at the ready. The gang leader mustered all the strength he possessed as he leaped into the sky, and with a tremendous swing, he stabbed the dagger toward the creature's head.

The blade looked like it met its mark, but the Maldread sensed danger and used its disgusting hands to cover its head. Howard stabbed with all his might, and he watched as the blade sliced through both hands but couldn't pierce any further.

“Not good!” Howard let go of the blade and threw himself off the creature, and as he did, the creature's barbed tongue shot out of its mouth like a hidden weapon. It gripped the dagger's hilt, pulled the blade, and flung it away. The Maldread leaped to its feet,  screamed, and glared evilly toward Howard, who was backing away while trying to summon more of his Sin Sorcery. “Hold it off!” Howard looked terrified and not as handsome and confident as he usually was. “I need a minute!” Just as the Maldread was about to pounce, a person attacked it from behind.

“Ralph!” Jonas was in disbelief as the big giant wrapped his trunk-like biceps around the throat of the screaming creature. The Maldread twisted madly, and its muscular legs began to bulge as they worked furiously to hold up under Ralph's weight. Then, Thomas Vale locked one flailing arm in a vice-like grip, and Bannji Balewa locked the other.  The rest of the fighters made their move and unleashed their signature attacks.

Yuki was the first to try, and she flipped gracefully into the air and brought her foot striking across its jaw, but it barely made the monster flinch, let alone cause any damage. Michael Davis tried stabbing its eye with a metal rod, but the creature nudged its head in time for the attack to miss. They would have attempted a few more strikes but ran out of time because Bannji had been lifted off the ground and tossed across the room, and the monster began to break free from their hold.

Ralph screamed in pain as the Maldread dug its razor-sharp claws into his side and felt his fingers grow numb. Blood gushed from the wound, which surprised Jonas because Ralph's skin was incredibly durable.

“Let go!” Jonas shouted, and Ralph heeded his call, narrowly avoiding the creature's next swipe, which it had aimed at his head. Thomas Vale was the only person who hadn’t been quick enough to back away. One moment too late, he tried to let go of the creature's arm, but the Maldread had focused its attention on him.

“Thomas!” Howard shouted, but it was too late, the monster stabbed its free hand forward, and it easily slid through Thomas’ chest cavity, and the gangster choked, his eyes bulged, and he felt a clawed hand grasp his own beating heart.

The Maldread screamed into his face and brought its head close enough to take a bite. Razor-sharp teeth began to surround Thomas’ screaming head. “No!” Howard finished charging his flaming attack, and his scream had woken the creature from its carnivorous daze.

Howard was madly charging towards the creature, who still had its hand stuck in Thomas’ chest like a child sticking its hand in a cookie jar, and its green eyes widened as it recognized the source of the burning pain it had previously experienced.

The creature pulled its arm from Thomas’ chest cavity, and gushing blood came from within the gaping hole. First, he clumsily tried to stem the bleeding, and as he fell onto his back, his fingers slipped into the hole. The blood vessels in his eyes had burst, and two final words came from his quivering mouth.

“Fucking cunt…”

Howard wanted to save his friend. He knew that as long as he kept the creature from finishing the job, Thomas was strong enough to heal from the wound. The Maldread threw something at Howard, which struck him across the face.

Looking down at the ground, Howard grimaced as he saw a bloody, beating heart covered in dirt and filth. No matter how great of a Sinner Thomas Vale had been, he was not enough to survive without his heart: he was dead.

Howard screamed, and the Maldread shrieked back at him. The two were crazed as they charged at each other and released their attacks. The Maldread’s claws sank through Howard’s arm, but he swung his other hand and brought the ball of flames crashing against the face of the Maldread.

An explosion occurred, and it blasted Howard and the Maldread backward. The creature rolled on the ground while grabbing its face: it seemed to be in excruciating pain. Howard lay on the stone floor while laughing and staring at his fist—the explosion had reduced it to nothing but a bleeding, smoldering stump. Perhaps his natural protection hadn't been enough to protect him from the explosion, or maybe he had lost control of his Sin at the wrong moment. Either way, Howard's right hand was gone.

Jonas made his move because his legs worked much better than before, but it took a lot of concentration to avoid being smashed by the flailing creature. He made his way toward the dagger on the floor, gripped it tightly, and turned to face the Maldread, but he grimaced because he knew it was nearly impossible to get within its personal space, or at least to do so without being impaled by flailing razor-sharp limbs.

“Stab it!” Howard shouted manically. “Fucking stab it!”

Jonas didn’t hesitate any longer and ran head-first toward the creature. Just as he swung the blade down toward the creature's head: Jonas saw its muscular leg move unnaturally. It kicked forward and hit him square in the chest, sending him toppling backward. The claws of the monster's feet had left bloody gashes like bullet holes in Jonas' torso, but he didn’t have time to admire them.

“Moron!” Howard screamed. “Someone, do something! The Maldread won’t stay down for long!”

It didn’t matter how much Howard screamed because the fighters stared heavily at the prone creature, knowing they hadn't much better chance than Jonas of doing it damage. The Maldread was clutching its face while it made dreadful baby-like whimpers.

“Give me the dagger!” Michael Davis was confident in his speed. Jonas clambered to his feet and chucked the dagger toward the middle-aged gladiator, and Michael skillfully caught it mid-air.

He dashed towards the unsuspecting Maldread, maneuvered toward the side of its face that had burned, and swung the dagger.

Just when the fighters thought Michael might have done the deed, the Maldread instantly twisted its body and moved out of the way just in time. Its claw moved so fast that even Mike couldn’t react, and they watched horribly as his head flew right off his shoulders. Blood sprayed like a fountain from his neck, and as his body hit the ground, a pool of crimson liquid began to form around the creature.

“Fuck,” Jonas sighed. Seeing his former opponent beheaded was unnerving. “How the hell are we supposed to kill it?”

“Kill it?” Rodney White was the first to admit it was a lost cause. “I say we get out of here while we can," he nodded toward the exit door.

"You think Howard is telling us the password? I can guarantee you that Thomas won't either," Johnson shook his head at Rodney.

"Howard," Jonas looked over at the gang leader, who was propped up against the wall and miserably staring at the stump where his hand used to be. "Give Rodney the password. He'll try opening the door, and we can all leave. Let's just lock it in here, fuck it."

"Go fuck yourself, Jonas," Howard smirked. "You've killed my best friend, ruined my fucking gang, and now I'm missing a hand because of you. Go fuck yourself."

"Jesus Christ, Howard," Jonas rolled his eyes. "You can rebuild the gang, promote a new Vice President, and I know a healer that can grow you a new hand. Stop your whining, just give us the password, and you can make things right."

"Oh, you're going to find a healer to regrow my hand?" Howard didn't trust him for a second, but he did get to his feet. "I don't believe that for a second. You're right: this whining is unbecoming of me. Fine, the password is six, six, six, four, nine, three. Press the green button after you've typed it in."

Jonas was surprised that Howard had given them the password. It probably wasn't the first time the gang leader had to deal with setbacks, but it had been a long time since he had to deal with such a dire situation.

The Maldread was unmoving, and Rodney slowly walked toward the exit door, careful to hug the side walls and to make as little noise as possible. Their hearts beat as they watched him near the door, and there were multiple times that Jonas could be sure the creature was preparing to get up and kill them. However, the Maldread continued to whimper, and Rodney reached the door.

He licked his lips and pressed the numbers that Howard had told them: six, six, six, four, nine, and three. Then he pressed the green button. A loud beeping sound shocked Rodney, and the pin pad glowed red with error. Howard had given them the wrong password.

The annoying beeping sound made the Maldread shriek as it looked toward the source. Rodney turned his head and made eye contact with the beast, and he forgot to breathe as it started evilly at him.

"Howard!" Rodney shrieked as the Maldread pounced and began running toward his next victim. "You fucking piece of shit!" Howard smirked.

"Did I say four, nine, three? I meant four, nine, nine. Opse."

Jonas grimaced as he watched Rodney die. The Maldread chewed half of his head off in seconds, and although Jonas would never call his death a blessing in disguise—he couldn’t help but feel momentarily relieved that the Maldread was so far away from him. It was on its knees, crying and slurping Rodney White’s body.

“You didn't have to do that," but Jonas knew that Howard felt no pity for the dead slave.

"It's hard recalling passwords when I'm so close to death. Do you want to try now that I remembered the right code?" Howard wore an innocent smile. Jonas didn't care to try.

Got any more of those flames?” Jonas shook his head.

“You idiots wasted the last chance we had: no, I don’t have any more of those fucking flames,” Jonas felt depressed as he shook his head. None of his True Sin abilities would be much help. He had made fighters slip in blood and made his blood burn like acid, but Jonas had nothing for such a ruthless, immortal creature.

To make matters worse, Jonas felt his Sin Scars dimming as his confidence wavered. He wasn’t alone because as the remaining fighters braced themselves against the wall, they found their powers dwindling as the realization of certain death began to plague them. They couldn’t fight it, and they couldn’t run, so the most they could do was idly watch the Maldread feed from across the room while hoping it napped after eating.

“It’s healing,” Johnson whispered as he squinted across the room. “Its left eye just finally opened.”

“Well, isn’t that just grand,” Howard laughed.

“Why the fuck is the gang keeping a Maldread?” Simon demanded. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Keeping it?” Howard looked stupidly at him. “You think I could tame that thing?” He scoffed as blood trickled down from his split lip. “I don’t know how or where it came to be.”

“Then where the fuck did it come from?” Jonas looked confused.

“You!” Howard shouted. “You morons must have caused it during your escape!”

“Lower your voice!” Jonas shot back angrily as he eyed the creature from across the room. The screaming had made the Maldread stir, but thankfully it was still too preoccupied with tearing Rodney’s corpse apart.

“Howard, I can guarantee you that there was no damn Maldread when we were fighting off your guards,” Johnson said. “It’s sort of hard to miss, isn’t it?”

Jonas thought back to the daring escape that had occurred earlier and racked his brain while trying to remember what had happened. In all his time at the Hurts gang, he simply could not remember a time when he came across a room that might contain such a violent creature, but then a horrible idea had suddenly dawned on him.

“Terry Coleman,” Jonas recalled the Maldreads' green eyes, and now that he was putting the pieces of the puzzle together, he couldn’t help but think those eyes had seemed oddly familiar.

“Come again?” Johnson asked.

“The Maldread,” said Jonas heavily. “It’s Terry Coleman. The Maldread has his eyes.”

“Who the fuck is Terry Coleman?” Howard spat. “What the fuck did you do to him?”

“He was a slave of yours,” said Jonas. “He tried to escape with us, but we locked him out. The last time I saw him, he was in the training room with about twenty of your angry guards.”

“You think that thing is Terry?” Simon looked skeptical. “Terry was the weakest fighter. How could he possibly have enough Sin to transform into a Maldread?”

“You idiots don’t understand anything, do you?” Howard’s smile was cold as ice. “A Maldread isn’t born from tremendous Sin: it’s born from a lack of control. It's when Sin consumes the Sinner. It's a rare phenomenon, but it does happen."

“Who gives a shit,” said Ralph. “Does it matter where it came from?” He had been the one to toss Terry out. If the young slave had transformed into a Maldread, Ralph felt the blame was on him.

“I’d like to know the reason behind my death. So yes, it does matter,” Howard looked unimpressed.

Jonas was feeling an array of emotions: fear, dread, anxiety, bitterness, and especially guilt. If the Maldread had been born from Terry Coleman, wouldn’t this entire situation have been his fault, and wouldn’t every death be a direct consequence of his actions? Jonas was starting to regret not letting Terry escape with them.

“Is there any other way to kill it?” Jonas whispered. “You seem to know a lot.”

“The same way you kill anything,” Howard glared at him. "Head, or the heart,” he pointed to the heartless corpse of Thomas, then to the headless corpse of Jake Davidson.

“Its instincts are the sharpest I’ve ever witnessed,” Ahmed said. “It can sense and move away from danger at a moment's notice. It also has a strange desire to chase its prey, very predatory behavior,” the group considered his words as they thought back to how running away had only made things worse.

“How long till you have more fire?” Jonas tried once more. “You’ve had enough time to rest up.”

“Your ignorance towards Sin is the exact reason we’re in this situation,” Howard rolled his tired eyes. “I can’t just infinitely use my Sin Sorcery.”

“So, about ten minutes?” Jonas ignored him.

“Maybe five minutes,” Howard looked at the stump of a hand that had stopped bleeding. “I’ve never used more than three in a single day.”

“Just great,” Jonas sighed as he watched the Maldread lay on the ground while licking Rodney's blood off its fingers.

“What do we do now?” Yuki slowly made her way to Jonas' side, and he noticed an exhausted expression on her face.

“I don’t know,” he wished more than anything he could say the opposite, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie to her. “Same plan, I guess. We try to jump him and get a lucky stab.”

“Not good!” Howard's voice was stern, and they all turned to look at the creature. Their hearts fell because its evil green eyes were staring curiously at them. It opened its mouth and let out a wailing cry, and Jonas couldn’t help but compare it to a warning sound. Its eyes scanned each person until it settled on one of them, and all their blood froze as they watched the Maldread sprint on all fours toward their pity party.

“No!” Garth knew it was he that the Maldread had decided to chase, and even the strongest cage fighter in all of Little Wrath City felt nothing but dread as he tried to make a run for it. Nobody helped him, and they made themselves scarce as they pushed their bodies against the stone wall.

Garth dodged the first blow, and the Maldread skidded to a stop as it turned around and began to chase him back toward the metal door.

“Password! What the fuck is the password!” Garth screamed and charged toward the metal door, and Jonas was curious to see if Howard would try to help him survive. Howard clicked his tongue and yelled.

"Six, six, six, three, two, one," Howard gave in and decided to give his best fighter a chance to survive. Garth only had twenty or so feet between him and the creature, and when he reached the metal door, he mashed the buttons as fast as he could but ran out of time as the Maldread jumped and tried to capture its prey once more. Garth dodged around the attack and began running in a circle, he only needed to press three more buttons, and he could escape.

Garth began to run out of options as he cursed, cried, and ran for his life. Every time he got close enough to the door to type the numbers in, the Maldread sped up and interrupted him from escaping. Finally, Garth took a deep breath and had a crazy idea. He met gazes with Jonas, and then he ran towards the group.

“Not good!” If looks could kill, Jonas would have murdered Garth ten times over, but just as the slaves began to move out of the way, the creature grew impatient with the chase because it was growing hungrier by the second.

Garth twisted on the spot, but the creature didn’t chase after the other slaves as he had wanted. It swiped its claws with tremendous speed, but Garth had been too slow to dodge, and as he clumsily fell on his back, he noticed that half of his leg was gone.

“No!” Garth screamed. “Help me!”  He desperately crawled backward and used his remaining foot to kick the creature away. “Fucking help me, Howard!”

“Sorry,” Howard grimaced. “I'll always remember you as my best slave,” and the undefeated cage fighter nearly cried as he held the creature back with his foot. Garth gave them all a pleading look, and he didn’t look as menacing as he had once done, but no one would even make eye contact with him.

“FUCK YOU!” Garth hated begging, and his Sin Scars glowed as he skillfully kicked the Maldread in the face, which knocked it backward. He turned his body on the spot and tried to stand up, but the Maldread had dived and bit down as hard as it could.

“MY COCK!” Garth screamed so horribly that even Jonas had to turn his head. “IT'S GOT MY COCK, OH GOD, NO!” The slaves watched as the Maldread had Garth's entire pubic area in its mouth. It gave one tug of its neck and ripped Garth's reproductive system away from his body, leaving nothing but a large gaping hole.

Garth whimpered as his bald head hit the stone floor and prayed it would all end. Without his leg and cock, Garth had no reason to live anymore. He couldn't fight, and he couldn't rape: he was done and knew that death wouldn’t be so bad. Garth's body had gone numb while his soul prepared to leave. He smiled. ‘In my next life,’ Garth thought fondly of the chaos he had caused and the lives he had ruined. ‘I’m going to do it all over again.’

The Maldread tried to bite his head off, but something happened, and it was so shocking that even the ugly creature had to pause. A large slit opened like a third eye, right where the creature's junk should have been. From the three-inch slit, something long and slimy fell out.

“Is that—” Simon was interrupted.

“That’s its Johnson,” said Johnson, and both of them gagged as they watched the slimy, scabby, foot-long cock dangle generously between its legs. The Maldread grew curious, and it sniffed playfully at the bleeding hole between Garth’s legs, and its cock began to enlarge until it was completely stiff and standing straight.

The Maldread huffed as it sniffed the hole, while Garth was unsure if he had already died because it seemed like the creature was taking its time. His eyes were closed tightly, and he was still bracing himself for the cold kiss of death.

The worst sound Jonas had ever heard occurred as he witnessed the Maldread penetrate Garth’s wound with its cock, and Garth opened his eyes in horror as the creature began to hump him. Its dick almost slipped out as Garth made to buck him off, but the Maldread was desperate for the sense of pleasure once more, and it pushed him down and held his bald head with a massive clawed hand.

“KILL ME!” Garth gagged and screamed as the Maldread forced his head into the cold stone ground. “KILL—ME—PLEASE—JONAS!”

Jonas turned his head, and he wasn’t the only one that couldn’t stomach the sight. Yuki had buried her face into his aching shoulder. The creature went back and forth as it continuously raped Garth into painful oblivion, and its long barbed tongue fell out of its mouth while panting for breath, and the tip of the tongue gently licking the back of Garth’s neck.

Tears and blood fell down Garth’s cheek as the creature's claws dug into his skull, and his voice had gone raw and quiet from the screaming until he could no longer scream. His rape continued, and a disgusting puddle of blood began to build up just between his massive legs, and each time the foul cock plunged itself inside: more gore shot out like a clogged pipe.

The Maldread picked up its pace as it fucked harder and was in such a euphoric pleasure that it had forgotten not to kill its new plaything, so its weight crushed Garth’s skull until it became deformed like someone sitting on a beach ball.

As the monster reached its orgasm, Garth felt his body filled with hot slimy seed, and then the Maldread crushed his head into a paste. Garth was dead, but his sacrifice had not been in vain. Howard Hurts had managed to charge up one last ball of flame, and Jonas knew they would all die if they didn’t put it to good use.

The Maldread grunted and licked the brain matter off its fingers, and its slimy cock slithered from Garth's corpse, back into the slit between its legs, and out of sight. It purred in ecstasy, bent over, and began eating the remains.

“Last chance,” Howard held out his one good hand, and a dancing red flame was building up in his palm.

“The last one didn’t do enough damage,” Jonas saw its face had completely healed.

“Then we must make this one count,” said Ahmed. “None of our attacks will do any real damage, so we must end the monster with either blade or flame,” Jonas watched as Jaden tip-toed toward the dagger that was lying next to Jake Davidson's headless corpse. He bent over, picked it up, and gripped it tightly into his trembling hands.

“I won’t miss,” he said, “Let me do it.”

“Young Blood,” Pete shook his head. “We need someone stronger to do it.”

“My Sin is Greed,” Jaden's Sin Scars began to glow. “Right now, I value my life more than anything else, and I've never wanted anything more than to kill this monster and live. I can do it, believe me."

“Are you sure?” Ahmed shook his head. “Let me do it.”

“Ahmed, you’re all beat up,” Jaden tried to smile. “Jonas and Howard are all beat up too. It can’t be Johnson or Simon because I’m faster than them. It can’t be Ralph, Bannji, or Yuki because we need them to hold the Maldread down—they're much stronger than me,” Jonas was impressed that out of everyone there, Jaden was the one who had given so much thought to the final attempt.

“What’s the plan?” Jonas asked. “We’re not risking your life on a half-baked attempt.”

“Risk my life?” Jaden shook his head. “My life is already at risk for every moment that monster breathes.”

“Still,” Jonas argued. “We need to make this count,” his gaze shifted to the Maldread that was tearing the flesh off Garth’s corpse with its back turned towards them.

“We call it over,” Jaden licked his lips. “Howard hits the creature from one side while I attack the other. Ralph jumps on its back, and the rest of you make sure it doesn’t move when I stab it in the head.”

“We already tried that,” Howard argued. “It didn’t work.”

“It will work this time,” said Jaden while eyeing the Maldread from across the room. “There ain’t a man alive that wants to fight right after he just nutted.”

“So that’s it then?” Howard scoffed. “We hope the monster is feeling sluggish after his romp with Garth?”

“You got a better idea?” Jaden glared at him. “We’ve tried everything, and stabbing it in the fucking head is still the only plan that will work,” Howard’s face fell because there was no better option.

“I’ll distract it,” Jonas whispered. “You guys get ready to attack when it charges me."

“No,” Yuki shook her and held his arm. “You’re hurt. I’ll do it.”

“Yuki,” Jonas gave her a small smile. “You’re our best hope at beating this thing. We need you to finish the job in case things go wrong. I don’t have any plans on dying to this thing, so don’t you worry about me for a second. I'm going anywhere.”

“We’re running out of time,” Johnson hissed. “The beast is getting bored with Garth,” and they all looked to see the monster punching and slicing the corpse, and it looked like it was losing interest.

“Alright,” Jonas took a deep breath. “Everyone knows the plan. I’ll distract it and dance around to its flank, making it reveal its backside to you guys. Ralph, you jump on its back while the rest of you grab onto its arms so that it can’t fight,” he turned his head to look at Howard. “You hit him with the fire on one side,” he turned to look at Jaden. “You impale him on the other side.”

“Got it,” Jaden nodded. They formed two groups, and Jonas stepped forward.

“Terry Coleman!” Jonas shouted, and the Maldread froze as it heard the taunting. It slowly turned its head, and its sickly pair of green eyes locked with Jonas.

The creature opened its mouth, and a high-pitch growl came out. It was a clear warning sound from an apex predator who wasn’t in the mood to fight. “Don’t give me that shit!” Jonas yelled, and he began stomping his foot in a provoking manner. “Get over here, back-stabbing piece of shit!”

The Maldread could sense the ill intent, and it rose from Garth's corpse while never once taking its eyes off Jonas. Still, it didn’t charge. “I said get over here, now!” Jonas shouted.

The Maldread could no longer take insult to its position as the apex predator, and with a loud cry of anger, it charged toward him and pounced across the stone floor like some sort of grotesque animal.

Jonas knew that this was his last and best chance at survival. ‘I can do this,’ he began envisioning it in his mind. ‘I’ll dodge his attack, turn him around, and then we’ll kill him,’ his confidence began to rise. He filled his body with Pride, and just as the creature reached him, he readied himself.

Thank you to my Gold Patron, PandaLady12

New Chapter Format Announcment!

Hello to all my Patrons! I just want to say thank you for all the love and support you've shown Tower of Hell. We're approaching the end of Book One, and it's been one hell of a ride! I planned on changing my chapter format when I started book two; however, my new job is very demanding of my time, and I don't have as much time to write and edit as I once did, which means that I'm going to be changing to my new chapter format as of next week. This means I won't be releasing a chapter on Sunday, and your next chapter will be next weekend.

Instead of three chapters with a minimum word count of 2k each week, I'll be releasing one chapter with 4k words every Sunday. This will be much better for my time and I feel like I can release better quality work. I'm sorry if this disappoints you, in the future, I hope to write full-time and give you lots of chapters!

I love you all, and I hope you have a great weekend!

Tower of Hell: Caged and Confused, Book 1, Chapter 116

The creature that crawled out from the door was something from a nightmare. Its appearance was so shocking and vile that it sent shivers down the spines of Little Wrath City’s greatest Sinners. Goosebumps crept across their skin as a feeling of untamed dread filled their souls.

A gurgled cry that sounded similar to that of a dying baby came from its terrifying mouth. The Maldread opened its mandible-like jaws that could easily swallow a human head and revealed to the horror-struck fighters a set of bloody, six-inch teeth that resembled rows of sharp needles.

It was nearly ten feet tall, walked on creepy inverted knees, and had massive arms like a silver-backed gorilla with knuckles that dragged across the floor. Its hands and feet each sprouted six-inch claws that were black as onyx and looked sharp enough to cut through stone.

Its face was alien, but its skin set the creature apart from anything they had seen. The Maldread looked like a grotesquely peeled human being until it had nothing but a thin layer of bloody skin, covered head to foot in black scabs, yellow pus, and thick coagulated blood clinging to its body like a layer of filth.

The Maldread opened its flap-like jaw and cried like a baby as it slowly hulked across the room, walking in a strange, rhythmic motion. It sniffed playfully in the air and looked curiously at all the new playthings it had come across. The nightmarish creature began to step forward, and as it did, the fighters felt like their feet were glued to the floor as they stared hopelessly at it approaching.

A loud crunching sound distracted the creature, and it looked down at its feet, only to see that it had accidentally stepped on a slave's unconscious head: killing him instantly. A long-barbed tongue like a poisonous snake rolled out of its mouth, and it curiously scooped up a chunk of bloody skull in its long red fingers, bringing it close enough for a sniff.

Jonas nearly vomited as he watched the creature eat human brains, and the loud crunching noise from the pieces of the skull didn’t help. The Maldread purred in ecstasy as it bent down and began scooping up more gore and shoveling it into its horrible mouth like a hungry animal that hadn’t eaten in days—Jonas noticed it had dried blood on its face and claws.

The moment the creature took its bulging eyes off them, the fighters finally found a tiny flame of courage that allowed them to slowly back away. Nobody cared about freedom, nor did they care about making money off of slave fights, and the only thing the entire room could think about was getting as far away from the creature as possible. Perhaps putting their backs against the wall and pretending to be moss was the only thing that could bring them comfort.

The creature picked up the headless corpse of the slave like it weighed nothing, and it sank its long needle-like teeth into the neck, pulling out chunks of flesh as it happily fed. Don Marino had woken up only to stumble into a nightmare; however, he and his fellow Carl were the closest to the exit door. Some fighters backed away toward the eastern wall, while some backed toward the western wall. There wasn't a single person who wanted to be on a straight-line path toward that creature.

As the Maldread made its way to the dead slave's torso, it sniffed curiously, and its claws dug their way into the rib cage like hot knives cutting through butter and latched onto a warm, non-beating heart. It used its long barbed tongue to wrap around the fist-sized treat and pulled it into its mouth.

Don and Carl Prince tip-toed toward the exit door, and the hefty gang leader reached his hand toward the handle. He found the door was locked and gulped as he looked over and saw the pin pad mounted on the side of the wall. Don turned his head to see if Howard could tell him the code—perhaps hold up hand signals, but became horror-struck as he realized that the massive slimy creature was staring at him because he had drawn its attention by moving too much.

Its scream ruptured the eardrums of all those unfortunate enough to have been nearby, and Don watched in horror as it leaped onto all fours and began bolting across the room like some grotesque lion.

“Howard!” Carl screamed. “What's the code?” But Howard Hurts wasn't dumb enough to speak, shout, or do anything that could draw the Maldread's attention.

The creature leaped twenty feet and cleared the room in a blink of an eye, and it landed with a thud right in front of the two terrified gangsters, who could no longer feel their fingers or feet. Don Marino could only feel warm piss pouring down his leg as he trembled before the hungry gaze of the Maldread.

Maybe it was the sheer absurdity of the human soul, or perhaps he had just acted out of instinct, but Don's Sin Scars began to glow brighter than they had ever glowed in his entire life, and then he punched the creature across the face because it had leaned too close to him.

The creature looked flabbergasted for a moment, as something like a pebble had hit its face, and Don looked horrified as he realized that his punch had barely made the creature flinch.

The Maldread didn’t scream or cry but grabbed him by the throat, and its razor-sharp claws slit his jugular, and blood began to gush out like a fountain. Then it picked up the three-hundred-pound man as if he weighed nothing.

“Help!” Don tried to gurgle, but blood was pouring out of his nose, mouth, and eyes, and the last thing he ever saw was the darkness of the Maldread’s mouth as it slowly brought his head inside.

A sloppy crunchy noise filled Carl's ears, and he was the first to see the headless corpse of Don Marino. The stretched flesh was nerve-wracking as the Maldread tried to separate the head from the torso. Blood splattered all over the gangster, and he fell on his ass as hot tears began to leak out of his eyes.

The creature finished crunching Don’s head, ripped his heart from his chest, ate it, lowered the giant torso, and tossed it like trash on the ground.

The fighters had been doing nothing but trying to meld with the wall as the creature committed a brutal murder. Jonas watched as Yuki slowly pressed her back against the stone wall, and he quietly got to his feet and leaned against her for support.

“What do we do?” He whispered as quietly as he could, and thankfully the creature was too preoccupied with murdering Carl Prince, and it wasn't interested in the tiniest whispers from across the room.

The handsome, black gang leader's screams camouflaged their conversation, and the creature had decided to try eating from a different spot, so Carl was held by his shoulders as the Maldread bit a gigantic chunk off his stomach.

Carl’s eyes rolled back into his head as his intestines were removed and playfully swung around, sending blood and gore splattering across the room, and the creature wrapped itself with Carl's innards like jewelry.

“One of us distracts it,” said Yuki while nodding toward the broken door that led back into the gang. “ The creature follows,” she paused and waited for the creature to tear into Carl’s head. “The rest of us leave through the exit,” Jonas was impressed with how fast she came up with a plan, but he couldn’t help but wonder about which one of them would serve as the distraction.

Which one of them would be crazy enough to sacrifice themselves? Who would be fast enough to outrun the creature, make it through the halls of the Hurts gang, and buy enough time for the rest of them to escape?

If it had been before Howard melted him with True Sin explosions, Jonas would have done it himself. Not only was he the fastest person there, but he was also the only one crazy enough to try it. Unfortunately, Howard had nearly burned his legs off, and he could barely hold himself upright, let alone make a run for it.

Yuki bit her lip. Jonas saw that she wanted to offer herself as the sacrifice; however, she was terrified to speak the words into existence.

“It’s okay,” Jonas whispered, and her eyes turned red as she felt shame.

Howard had almost reached the wall closest to Jonas, and his experience was evident because he moved skillfully: stepping only as the creature made loud noises.

“Distraction,” his back hit the wall next to Jonas, and he pointed towards the exit door. He had the same plan as Yuki.

“Who?” Jonas asked. Though, he knew that Howard Hurts wasn't going to volunteer himself.

“Slave,” he whispered and pointed toward one random slave glued against the wall across the room.

“No,” Jonas rolled his eyes. “Too slow.”

“Fight it?” Howard asked, and for a moment, Jonas considered. A massive, ten-foot creature with inhuman physical capabilities; a desire for carnage, razor-sharp teeth, and claws that could playfully slice through human flesh—versus a dozen of Little Wrath City’s greatest warriors?

Even if he was the most narcissistic Crusader in the history of Hell, Jonas couldn’t feel a shred of confidence in that plan, but those two options were all they had. Either someone distracted the creature long enough for the rest of them to escape, or they joined together and fought it to the death. Neither option seemed very successful, and they didn’t have the time or ability to communicate the plan with the others across the room.

“Fire,” Jonas said quietly. “How many fireballs are left?”

“One,” Howard said.

“Lies,” Jonas shot back.

“Two,” Howard conceded, and Jonas couldn’t believe the arrogance of his enemy. How could he possibly have thoughts of saving his strength for Jonas when the harbinger of death was forty feet away chewing playfully on corpses?

“Best chance,” Jonas said. “Don’t miss.”

“Fuck,” Howard swore, and just as Jonas was considering signaling to those across the room, he had a sudden inspiration.

“Dagger?” His mind thought back to that long, golden-hilted knife used to carve his chest.

“Yes,” Howard slid his hand into his suit and pulled out the golden blade.

“Give,” Jonas held out his hand, but Howard silently snorted at him.

“No.”

“Fine. Get fire ready,” Howard began charging up a blazing fire in his right hand.

“Fire, attack, stab,” Jonas confirmed the plan with Howard, and the gang leader nodded his head. The young Crusader grabbed the attention of those across the room by waving his hand.

First, Jonas gestured to the ball of fire in Howard’s hand, and then he pointed to the creature while holding up two fingers. Ahmed nodded and began whispering the meaning to Simon and Johnson, who then whispered it to their neighbor like a terrible game of telephone.

Ahmed once again locked eyes with Jonas, and this time Jonas held up a fist and pointed towards the creature that still had its back turned to them. The last gesture Jonas gave Ahmed in their awkward game of charades was pointing to the golden dagger, then to his head, and finally toward the creature. Once again, Ahmed nodded and quickly transmitted the rest of the plan to the terrified fighters next to him.

“Can’t miss,” Howard said. “Need distraction still.”

“Fuck,” Jonas slowly pulled himself away from Yuki and tried to trot toward the center of the room, but she nearly yanked his arm out of its socket as she pulled him back.

“No,” she looked like she might head butt him out of anger. “You’re hurt.”

“Stupid girl,” Howard was seething. “Need a distraction.”

“I’ll go,” she whispered, but Jonas nearly broke her wrist from squeezing it so hard.

“Hell no,” seeing the two lover’s game of who would sacrifice themselves nearly made Howard throw over his flame and explode them both to bits. Maybe some sick God of Luck was bestowing them with fortune, or perhaps a God of Misery just wanted to see them struggle some more because the distraction they craved fell on their laps. A slave who had been unconscious in the middle of the room had stirred and groaned loudly.

“Did we win?” His voice echoed off the walls, and he made a strange expression toward Jonas because he noticed them all with their backs against the wall. The slave stupidly rubbed his eyes and turned his head toward the exit door. Something was staring at him, and he thought he was still dreaming.

The Maldread screamed like a baby, and he shrieked with it. The beast leaped across the room and landed on top of him with a sickening pounce.

Its clawed feet sliced right through his body and nearly cut him in half. He moaned and tried to push the creature away, but it swiped its claws across his throat, and Jonas watched horribly as that dummy slave began to choke to death on blood. His suffering didn’t last long because the creature ate his head whole, and the sounds of his screaming died out immediately, but his sacrifice wasn’t in vain.

The Maldread crouched over the corpse and had its back to Howard. With one last hateful glare at each other, he and Jonas nodded in agreement, and then Howard stepped forward, gently tip-toeing his way to the feasting monster.

“Hey, bitch!” Howard yelled, and just as the creature turned its head to find the source of the noise, a fiery explosion hit its face.

Thank you to my Gold Patron, PandaLady12

Tower of Hell: Caged and Confused, Book 1, Chapter 115

Jonas thought he could dodge it, but that Sin Sorcery that Howard had conjured was much faster and contained more velocity than the young Crusader had anticipated. He threw his body to the side, but that didn’t stop the explosive-like ball of flames from striking his shoulder. It contained so much force that it knocked Jonas off his feet and sent him flying backward until he hit the stone ground with a sickening thud.

As fresh blood poured from a wound on his head and stars appeared in his eyes, Jonas assumed that being next to an exploding missile might be a comparable pain to what he was feeling at that moment. He let out a moan of pain as his skin continued to melt because his shirt was on fire.

Jonas twisted on the spot and began rolling, and the damp, mossy floors were wet enough to help extinguish the flames, but as he stood up and pulled his smoldering shirt off, Jonas looked in horror at his skin. His entire shoulder was red, blistery, and bleeding, and it looked like half of his body had just been hit by an incendiary grenade.

“Jonas!” Yuki yelled, but just as she turned her head to look, Thomas made his move, preventing her from going to help.

Jonas was gritting his teeth as his eyes began to water, and he had trouble breathing through his nose because the smell of burning flesh and hair made him dizzy.

“You took it like an undefeated champ,” Howard laughed as he raised the second ball of flames up and down, playfully showing his control over it, “You see this, Jonas? This beautiful ball of flames is True Sin.”

“So, your Original Sin is fire, and you learned to conjure those balls of flames?” Jonas looked miserable, and his eyes were watering. Still, he was interested in seeing the advanced powers of another Sinner, as he had only witnessed Old Louie's ability to heal.

"Very astute, Jonas. I have a few more tricks up my sleeve, but this is the power I created and discovered on my own. It's something you could have reached with more time, but unfortunately, I'm killing you today. You have a great talent for Sin, and you can fight, but you're too much of a headache, and it will only get worse if I allow you to grow. I'm going to kill you today, and there's nothing you can do about it," there was a coldness in Howard's eyes that Jonas knew to be the look of someone ready for murder, and he felt a bit of fear when the complete picture of Howard's ruthlessness hit him.

"You're not the only person in this city that knows True Sin, Howard," Jonas exhaled a deep breath. 'Let it rain blood from my wounds, let it heal me,' and he remembered the bit of Sin Sorcery he had performed in his fight against Bannji. His Sin Scars glowed, and blood began to pool from the wounds on his shoulder. The red crimson coated his smoldering wounds, and Jonas felt instant relief. It was like he had spread miracle medicine across his body. It wasn't just the burns that had been soothed and partially mended, but all the broken bones, cuts, and abrasions he had received earlier were healing at the speed of the naked eye.

Howard had no idea what was happening. To him, it looked like Jonas had started bleeding profusely and was seconds from death. However, once the blood dried, Howard noticed that the wounds on Jonas' torso were in the process of healing. His eyes widened, and his mouth fell agape.

"Oh, Jonas. You've hidden well, haven't you?"

"I'm more surprised you hadn't noticed yet. I've been using Sin Sorcery during my matches. Haven't you been watching from your elite VIP box?" Jonas was surprised when he saw Howard give him a pitying look.

"You think me and the other gang leaders watch the fights? Poor Jonas," Howard grinned. "We play poker and get our dicks sucked by prostitutes. None of us watch the fights, Jesus Christ. We don't give a fuck who wins or loses because it's a game to us."

At first, Jonas felt a bit sick and offended. However, he thought about what Howard said as it made him realize something.

"I think you're such an amateur at Sin that you didn't realize your fighter was using it right under your nose. I'd expect that when you're a nobody with no master. You'll never take the Sin Assessment, and you'll never take the Hell Challenge. You're a fucking loser in a suit, and after hundreds of years in Hell, all you have to show for it is a house in the sewers and some tiki torches coming out of your hands."

"Enough," Howard didn't look perturbed by Jonas' words, but his eye violently twitched because of how angry he was. Howard Hurts wasn't spoken down to by slaves, ever. "Time to die, Jonas. A little bit of blood isn't going to stop that," Jonas watched as Howard wound his shoulder, and he prepared to dodge the attack.

The fireball exploded like a cannonball and instantly crossed the distance between them. Jonas tried to dive out of the way, but it seemed as if Howard had predicted the direction he would move, and the flame hit Jonas straight in the bare chest. It exploded on impact and sent him crashing against the wall. He gasped for air and felt his eyes roll back into his head.

Jonas slumped against the stone wall, and smoke rose from his body. The impact had indented his chest, and most of the flesh had melted: revealing a disgusting slimy layer of skin and muscle. He couldn’t breathe properly because his lungs felt like they were collapsing, and the burning fumes from his skin made the insides of his nostrils burn.

“I’d like to see how your healing abilities stack up against my Flames of Wrath,” when he reached the foot of Jonas, who had propped himself against the wall, he crouched down and began examining the wounds.

“Impressive,” Howard mumbled as his finger painfully dragged against the burning mess that was Jonas’ chest, “Your skin is trying to heal, but my fire isn’t like ordinary flames made from burning gasses. Wrath fuels my flame, and my leftover Sin is still burning through your body, and your Pride can't heal it.”

“Shut up for a second,” Jonas’ voice was just louder than a whisper. “I can’t focus on healing when you're gabbing in my ear.”

“Let me help you then,” Howard smiled, and he pressed his hands against Jonas’ chest. The young Crusader felt brutal pain, like Howard was branding him with hot metal. Jonas writhed and screamed as he fell to the floor. “I can do much more than just throw fire," Howard stretched his hands out and grasped Jonas’ calves, who screamed out in pain because it felt like a Hellhound was biting his leg. It was more than just a burning pain: it was like some painful force was invading every cell of his body while terrorizing the natural order of things. “How about that pretty face,” Howard laughed as his hands slowly crept up Jonas’ body, but just as he was about to press down, something hard hit him in the back of the head. An iron baton bounced off his skull and knocked him over, and Jonas heard Johnson's voice.

“Headshot!” He smiled because his talents as a former marksman had managed to save Jonas for just a moment. Howard blinked as he tried to ignore the bleeding pain from the back of his skull, and his vision was still cloudy, but he slowly recovered while a searing rage filled his body as he stared daggers at Johnson, who was grinning at him from across the room.

“I’m going to melt your fucking face off, slave.  “Wait here, Jonas, while I go murder your friends,” Howard got up, cracked his neck, and marched toward Johnson.

“Fuck,” Jonas whispered as he lay on the cold stone floor and watched as Johnson ran for his life. He could barely breathe, let alone move, and it was by some miracle that he hadn’t passed out from the pain. Maybe God just wanted him to suffer or perhaps witness the deaths of his friends while freedom was so close. ‘Let it rain blood, heal me! These burns won't stop me,' once again, blood seeped from his wounds, and Jonas exhaled a moan as the crimson liquid soothed his skin. “Yuki,” Jonas tried to call out, but his voice wasn’t loud enough.

“Howard, help!” Thomas looked worse for wear as he had finally exhausted everything he had. He was backstepping as he tried to block three different attacks, but Yuki put everything she had into a roundhouse kick that struck him across the chin and sent him crashing against the floor. It didn't knock Thomas unconscious, but it had taken most of his remaining energy.

Howard arrived just as Yuki was preparing to deal the finishing blow, and the two began a quick exchange of attacks as he tried to keep her, Jaden, and Pete from circling and getting to Thomas.

The assistance had been enough, and Thomas clambered to his feet as blood poured from his nose and swollen face.

A strangled cry shocked them all out of their stupor, and everyone watched the massive figure of Ralph on top of Garth while Ahmed, Simon, Bannji, Theo, and two other slaves pinned down his arms and legs.

The greatest cage fighter in all of Little Wrath City had met his match against the combined efforts of so many people, and even someone of his caliber was unable to endure such circumstances. Garth’s eyes began to bulge as he felt the massive arm of Ralph wrap tightly around his neck, and he angrily struggled as hard as he could while his Sin Scars glowed as brightly as ever. His vision began to dim, and his head drooped against the floor.

“Get off of him!” Howard screamed. “Thomas, go help Garth,” Yuki made a move, but Howard jumped in her way, and his presence was intimidating enough to stop them all in their tracks.

Ralph let go of his opponent, and although he wanted to choke the life out of Garth, he knew that Thomas would instantly kill the weaker slaves like Theo if he didn’t get up to help. Ahmed still looked quite banged up, but he had new life from the few minutes of rest he had taken earlier.

“And then there were two,” Yuki snarled at Howard. “Still sticking by your statement that you're enough to stop us all?” Howard’s expression turned a bit ugly as he prepared to attack. “Come on, Howard. Use your flames. You can still use them, right?” It seemed as if she had struck a chord, and Howard licked his lips.

“You’re right. I can,” Howard said. “I have enough juice left for a few more.”

“But then you’ll be all out of Sin, right? “I knew something was off when you started torturing Jonas with your hands. That power you used must be costly.”

“You were always one of our most talented fighters,” Howard nodded approvingly, but it seemed like he was buying time. Suddenly, he felt someone press against his back, and turning his head, Howard could see that Thomas was facing half a dozen bloody slaves.

“Fucking cunts,” Thomas snarled as he stood back to back with his boss. Jonas' forces had entirely outnumbered them.

“Looks like we’re in a pickle, Tommy,” Howard chuckled.

The room had gone very silent while a dozen people surrounded a battered Thomas and a tired-looking Howard, who both stood in the center of the room.

It was an extremely morale-boosting scene, and as Ahmed took his place in the encirclement, he shared looks with the rest of his fighters.

“Are you okay, Jonas?” He called out.

“Oh, fucking great,” Jonas’ voice was much louder than before because he was concentrating on healing his burning wounds. Seeing that his good friend was still alive and kicking, Ahmed knew it was time.

“Howard, just let us leave. We both know you can’t stop us.”

“How many will I kill before you bring us down? Even like this, I’m confident I can kill over half of you.”

“And how about with us?” An unfamiliar voice called out, and everyone turned their heads to see bloody figures stumbling toward the encirclement. It was Michael Davis and Rodney White.

“Listen,” Mike said while holding his hands up in a gesture of peace. “Originally, I thought you guys had no chance, but I’m willing to help as long as you have no complaints.”

“We’re slaves, just like you,” said Rodney. “I want out of this place too.”

“Fine,” said Yuk. “Any objections?”

“None," said Ahmed. "You’re fucked, Howard,” he smiled while watching Rodney and Michael join the encirclement.

However, those two fighters weren't the only ones to wake up from their beatdowns. Don Marino, Carl Prince, and Billy Von Trip finally pulled themselves together while Garth began to stir in his sleep. The victorious grins on the slaves' faces faltered a bit.

It looked like another round of brawling was about to begin, and Howard felt much more confident because there were five on his side, and it was only a matter of time before his number one fighter woke up.

Just as the fighting was about to start, a loud boom echoed off the large door that led back to the gang, and it was so loud that it caused all the fighters to turn their heads in surprise. Another boom rattled the door, and Jonas knew the door wasn't locked and wondered why the person on the other side of the door didn’t simply open it.

“What the fuck?” Howard looked confused as he stared at the banging door, and although the rest of the weaker Sinners couldn’t feel anything amiss, his instincts were screaming in protest.

The person on the other side hit the door so hard it broke off its hinges. It wasn't a person that had been banging on the door because something unbelievable ducked its head and entered the room.

"Maldread," Howard's face turned white, and his terrified voice was just above a whisper.

Thank you to my Gold Patron, PandaLady12

Tower of Hell: Caged and Confused, Book 1, Chapter 114

Ralph was holding his own against Michael Davis, and the big man had yet to be knocked unconscious like the dummy slaves and low-ranking fighters. However, just as there was a significant size difference between the two, there was also a difference in Sin; Michael was a much more experienced and adept Sinner. The conclusion of their fight had yet to come, and there was still time for Ralph to overcome his adversary.

A short distance away, Jaden Jackson could barely open his eyes as Rodney White repeatedly punched his face. Although the young Thief was young, talented, and willful, he was way too inexperienced to take on someone of Rodney's caliber. The old him would have considered falling over and faking sleep, but the present-day version of himself was hungry for victory and greedy for freedom. His handsome face was bleeding profusely, and as the crimson liquid poured from his body and onto the stone floor, the only thing he could think about was how disappointing it was that he hadn’t had more time to come into his talent: to grow just like Jonas had done.

“Young blood!” He heard Pete's voice. “Help is on the way!”

“Young Brother!” Another voice called out, and Jaden didn't recognize it. “Bone Crusher is here to assist!”

‘Who?’ Jaden had no idea who Bone Crusher was, but his opponent did. Rodney White froze, looked behind himself, and his face became horror-struck as an unlikely duo of Pete Ingram and Bannji Balewa charged toward him.

Rodney 'Killshot' White wasn’t confident in his ability to beat the both of them, but he slid his foot into a stance, and Wrath spread through his body as he readied himself for an all-out brawl. However, he felt someone grab his leg and looked down to see a half-conscious Jaden using his last bit of willpower to hold onto his leg. Rodney panicked, lifted his head, and watched Pete spear-tackle him onto the ground. He tried to defend himself, but it was hard to do because Bannji had started kicking him in the head. Rodney White saw stars, his vision turned bloody, and then he was knocked unconscious.

“Are you good, Jaden?” Pete helped the young fighter up.

“Of course, OG,” the young Thief was sore, half-conscious, and could barely keep his balance. “Who's the African dude?”

“Bannji’s with us now,” Pete smiled. “This ain’t over yet.”

“Gotta help Ralph,” Jaden mumbled, and Pete caught a glimpse of his best friend. “Oh, we could help Ralph, but he doesn’t need it,” Jaden tried his best to squint through his swollen eyes.

Ralph turned the tides against an opponent who had outclassed him at every step, and Jaden could see the outline of his giant figure giving Michael Davis the beatdown of his lifetime. Ralph picked him up by his throat and choked the life out of him, sometimes banging his head against the stone floor. Michael was spluttering and drooling, and his eyes began to roll back as he approached death.

“He’s a slave, don't forget,” Pete said as he walked over to Ralph. “The choice is yours,” Ralph turned his head, and his face was bloodthirsty and mean-looking. His Sin Scars were glowing like neon lights, and Pete knew that if he hadn’t said anything: Michael would be dead.

“Just a slave,” Ralph growled, and he picked up his opponent and tossed him against the stone wall, where he cracked his head and slid to the ground.

“Woo, you are a big boy,” Bannji couldn’t believe the sheer size of Ralph as he looked him up and down.

“We ain’t got time to admire Ralph,” Pete readjusted his eye patch as he examined the remaining fights with a grimace.

Jonas was barely holding on against Howard Hurts, Ahmed kept Garth at bay, and Yuki was on her last legs against Thomas Vale. From Howard's reinforcements: Carl Prince, Don Marino, and Billy Von Trip finished off the slaves and blue-collared fighters who had tried to bring them down—there were bodies littered around them, some unconscious and some dead.

“Young Brother," Bannji patted Jaden on the shoulder. "You and I will give Billy Von Trip a hell of a fight. “Only if you still have some energy left. He's one of the weakest gang leaders, and I think I can take him with a little help.”

“Fuck yeah,” Jaden could barely see straight, but he found the power to stand up on his own two feet and face his new opponent.

“Ralph and I will go after that skinhead-looking mother fucker, Don Marino," Pete watched as the big gang boss smashed two slaves’ heads against each other and fell backward like dominoes. "We'll try and get them down before that other gang leader can finish off the rest of the slaves."

“Fight!” Ralph boomed, and the four of them charged toward their new targets.

It seemed that the deciding factor of the battle would be how long Jonas, Yuki, and Ahmed could hold out against their respective opponent while the rest of their crew tried to take out the three remaining gang leaders: Don Marino, Carl Prince, and Billy Von Trip.

However, it wasn't long before a riot leader lost their fight and broke the fragile balance they had been maintaining for so long.

Ahmed was on his knees, and Garth held his hair in one hand while continuously punching his face. Garth showed no mercy for his opponent as he beat his face in, and he laughed as he felt facial bones fracture beneath his knuckles.

Jonas turned his head for a split second and saw the horrifying spectacle, and it kicked his protective instincts into overdrive. He tried ignoring Howard Hurts because he wanted to run to help Ahmed, but trying to get past the strongest person in Little Wrath City was an impossible task. Howard Hurts looked fine besides his messy hair, and a bit of Jonas' blood speckled his gray suit.

“Focus, Jonas,” Howard saw Garth was about to kill Ahmed and got in his young opponent's path to prevent him from leaving to help. Then he launched a roundhouse kick that hit Jonas’ forearms so hard the force blasted him backward in the opposite direction of where Ahmed was.

“Everyone!” Jonas screamed as he got up from the stone floor. His body was beaten and bloody. “You need to help Ahmed!” he pointed across the room. “Simon, Johnson, Theo, everyone!” His voice cracked with anxiety. “Save Ahmed!”

"Go!" Ralph yelled at Pete, Theo, and two other slaves. "Go help Ahmed. I've got this."

There weren’t many fighters to spare because most had been knocked unconscious or killed. However, Bannji and Jaden were fighting Billy Von Trip to a standstill, and a handful of blue-collar gladiators were fighting Carl, which left Ralph to hold off Don Marino on his own.

“I’m surprised because they listen to you so well,” Howard nodded his head approvingly, “You'd make a good gang leader.”

“Maybe I’ll try it once I get out of here,” Jonas spat blood onto the stone floor.

“So confident,” Howard took a quick look around. “Sure, you outnumber us right now, but as long as me, Thomas and Garth are still up, you have no chance in hell.”

“Doesn't matter,” Jonas smiled a bloody smile. “I haven't even gone all out yet. I can fight you all day, and eventually, our numbers will win,” he wasn't just boasting: Jonas hadn't used any of his True Sin abilities yet; he had held Howard Hurts at bay using martial arts alone.

Why hadn't Jonas tried using his powers of Sin to win the fight? He hadn't had much inspiration because he had been on his toes the entire duel, getting punched and kicked around the room without much time to consider a strategy. However, now that Howard had graciously given him a breather, Jonas' imagination was spinning with ideas, some old and some new.

Pride flooded his heart as he imagined himself beating Howard Hurts, and he knew that if he lost the duel, everything he worked so hard for would collapse all around him. The pressure of losing wasn't too great for Jonas, and he never felt more confident in his abilities than he did at that moment.

Perhaps his confidence had leaked over to his crew because it wasn't long before the tides had turned for the better. Bannji and Jaden had knocked Billy Von Trip unconscious and joined forces with a few fighters to bring Carl Prince down. Moments later, a small crowd of gladiators swarmed Don Marino while beating him senselessly.

“All the gang leaders are down!” A loud voice broke through the fighting. It made Jonas and Howard turn their heads to look. It was such a shocking development that even Yuki and Thomas had stopped their duel as they looked to see what had happened.

‘Since when is Bannji helping us escape?’ Jonas smiled at the new development. “See that, Howard? Can you afford to look down on us now?” He turned his head around to check on Ahmed. It seemed that Garth was starting to breathe a bit ragged because two slaves were hanging off his shoulders. Along with those two slaves, Theo dangled from his neck while Johnson and Simon used it to their advantage. They weren't going to hold Garth back for long, but it gave Ahmed enough time to sit on the sidelines while trying to recover.

“They only have three left!” Yuki shouted. “This is the moment we’ve been waiting for!”

“Ralph and Bannji!” You guys attack Garth!” he shouted, “Pete, Jaden, you guys help Yuki!” Those four fighters followed his directions without complaint, even though they were beaten, bleeding, and looked very miserable.

“Howard,” Jonas felt his heart racing with excitement. “It’s time to call it quits. Just let us go.”

“I didn’t think it would come to this,” Howard looked meaningfully toward Jonas, and although it seemed like he was considering Jonas’ proposal, his cold expression told a different story. “Do you understand what it means when you are at the level I’ve reached?” His hands stretched out to his sides, and his flame-like Sin Scars began to glow. “It’s hard to get angry when I’m fighting someone I know is weaker. I also find it difficult to be wrathful even though you’ve embarrassed me and caused problems for my organization.”

“Talk is cheap, Howard,” Jonas chuckled. “As long as we hold you and Thomas off, eventually Garth will go down, and it will be a dozen of us against the two of you.”

“Numbers don’t matter, Jonas,” Howard shook his head. “I wouldn’t be worried even if the last man left,” a small smile crept up on his handsome face. “Who needs an army when you can do this?” Suddenly, as if from thin air, large flames began to rise from the palms of Howard’s hands, and those nearest to him looked on in shock as something from their greatest dreams had just materialized.

“When you’re a Sinner of my caliber,” Howard laughed while channeling all his Wrath toward his hands. He kept feeding the flames until they reached the proportions of a soccer ball.

Of course, Howard Hurts was one of the few people in all of Little Wrath City capable of True Sin. Jonas hadn't considered that his opponent would summon red hot flames, but he did expect Howard to use True Sin at some point.

“Jesus Christ!” Jonas took a step back as the flames had grown so hot he could feel them from six feet away, but apparently, the heat didn't bother Howard, and he seemed to have some immunity.

Jonas' instincts were screaming not to be touched by those flames, and his Sin told him that even one of those balls of fire could cause death. The real fight had just begun, and Jonas needed to decide how to counter Howard's Sin.

The gang leader wound his body like a baseball pitcher and threw one of the balls of flames toward Jonas.

Thank you to my Gold Patron, PandaLady12

Tower of Hell: Caged and Confused, Book 1, Chapter 113

Yuki spared no thought for her dead enemy as she stepped over his mangled body and searched the crowd for Jonas. It seemed the riot had become less chaotic, and the many fighters, gangsters, and slaves began dispersing into smaller duels.

She finally caught sight of a young man with golden blonde hair, and her expression turned into a frown when she noticed that he was bleeding profusely, and it was clear from his body language that his fight with Howard Hurts was not going well.

His unfortunate appearance made her feel like joining him, and she wanted to offer her protection, but she willed herself to stay away because she knew Jonas wouldn't be at his best with someone trying to help him win his battle.

Yuki turned her head and saw that a few of Jonas’ friends were fighting the gladiators that belonged to the other gangs. Ralph was going at it with Michael Davis, and it seemed like he was winning, but Pete, who was fighting Rodney White, and Jaden, who was fighting against Bannji Balewa, looked to be on their last legs as their much stronger opponents beat, bashed, and kicked the life out of them. She took a deep breath and sprinted toward the friends Jonas held dear to his heart—help was on the way.

A tremendous battle was occurring on the opposite side of the room. Garth was standing with his fists balled as he launched attacks toward three opponents who had teamed up against him. He stood firm, glorious, and unbeaten.

Ahmed, Simon, and Johnson were giving everything they had to put up a fight against the big, bearded gladiator, but Garth was true to his name as the number one cage fighter in all of Little Wrath City. Although Ahmed could put up a decent fight, it seemed like the two amigos: Simon and Johnson, had run their course, and although they tried their best to act in a supporting role, their lack of strength became apparent because they bled profusely and held on by nothing but their sheer will for freedom.

“Morons!” Garth laughed as he took Simon by the scruff of his neck and pounded his face. With one great toss, he threw the rat-faced man right into Johnson, and the two went crashing into the stone wall. “Ahmed, I’m so disappointed in you right now. You tried to team up with goddamn dummy slaves to beat me. That's embarrassing, isn't it?”

Ahmed was bleeding from head to foot, and his dark, ashen hair swung wildly behind him. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say he stood no chance at beating Garth, but that didn’t seem to phase him. Ahmed was more bothered by the idea that either Johnson or Simon would receive a killing blow in their attempts to help him. His dark eyes watched as the two tried to climb to their feet, but he held up a hand to stop their charge because he had seen enough.

“Simon, Erik,” his voice was quiet, and blood leaked down his forehead. “Go help the others.”

“Ahmed!” Simon looked bewildered, and he had to try and reason with him. Perhaps he was the only one besides Jonas that could even try. “We can do it together. We fought every fucking day for this moment!”

“I know,” Ahmed smiled. “And I’m damn proud of you for that, but this is a fight between us top-fives, and considering that neither of you is a top-five, you need to let things be.”

“Ahmed!”

“Simon!” Johnson spat blood as he clapped his brother on the shoulder. “You heard the old man. He doesn’t want us here,” Johnson nodded at Ahmed. “We can only help where help is wanted, so don’t embarrass yourself by looking down on our friend,” his words broke Simon from his stupor as he looked indecisively toward both Ahmed and Garth.

“I know,” his inner Sloth was causing him to be indecisive, and he worried about the consequences of his actions. He took a deep breath and made his decision. “Fine! You better beat him, Ahmed. We're all depending on you."

“And I’m depending on you,” Ahmed smiled brightly. “Go!”

It seemed to take all his willpower, but Simon gave in to Johnson’s pestering, and the two ran after their other friends.

“All done?” Garth chuckled, “I was waiting for the big kiss, like the movies.”

“Well, if that’s what you want,” Ahmed lifted his chin. “You could kiss my ass,” Garth nodded approvingly towards the old desert warrior.

“You’ve changed, Ahmed. You’ve got much more spunk,” Garth raised his fists and prepared to start round two.

“You think so? Perhaps, someone has been rubbing off on me,” his mind filled with the shit-eating grin of the only person he could ever call his student. On second thought, perhaps Ahmed was the student. The old warrior took a deep breath and then charged toward Garth.

The peak of all the battles had yet to arrive. Ahmed was fighting Garth, Jonas was fighting Howard, and the rest of the fighters and slaves had ganged up against Thomas Vale and the reinforcements from the other gangs. In the corner of the room, Pete was half-standing, bleeding, and trying to strike reason into his opponent: Bannji Balewa.

Pete knew in his heart that he wasn’t a match for a fighter who had once beaten Xiao Lin, but every punch he took from Bannji made him seethe in anger because the black panther inside his chest was roaring in protest.

“So that’s it then,” he huffed as he used the back of his hand to wipe the blood pouring from his broken nose. “The white man says, 'jump,' and you fucking jump?” Bannji stopped in his tracks and made a strange expression toward his opponent.

“Brother, I don’t know what you're on, but this is not a fight of words, but a fight of fists,” Pete could tell that the African fighter hadn’t been in hell for too long because his accent was still strong.

“What would you know about fighting?” Pete scoffed. “You ain’t ever fought a day in your life.”

“What does this mean?” Bannji looked confused. “Brother, I must have put too much power in my hits. You’ve forgotten that I’m a gladiator.”

“You’re a fucking slave, and our goddamn ancestors would be ashamed of you,” Pete spat blood on the ground. “You think our motherfucking leaders died so that you could stop slaves from escaping?”

“Brother,” Bannji made an awkward expression. “I’m from Rwanda. It wasn’t the white man that killed me: it was the fucking Hutus.”

“You're a Tutsi?” Pete's mouth fell agape.

“For life,” Bannji made a strange gesture with his arms and crossed them in the shape of a letter T.

“My bad brother,” Pete shook his head. “I know you saw some shit.”

“Seen the shit?” Bannji grimaced. “I watched as the Hutus came into my home, and they raped my baby girl, and they chopped her head off in front of me,” his breathing became ragged. “Then they raped my lovely wife and chopped her head off in front of me! Then they raped me and chopped my fucking head off!” His Sin Scars began to light up from across the room. “So don’t tell me I am not a fighter, don’t talk to me about the white man, and don’t tell me about the goddamn struggle! You don’t know my struggle! You don’t know my fight!”

“I know,” Pete went quiet. “I’m sorry about your wife and daughter. I had a wife too.”

“Was she raped and chopped?” Bannji asked ferociously.

“No,” Pete looked down at the floor. “She was beaten to death by men who were supposed to protect her.”

“The policeman?” Bannji asked.

“Yes,” Pete nodded. “The police killed my wife.”

“You're a black panther?”

“For life,” and Pete made a power gesture with his fist.

Bannji sighed a deep breath, and it could have been colored red with anger. It wasn’t as if the two fighters had become best friends, but it was hard to go back to beating someone to death once he empathized with them.

“Brother, why escape?” Bannji didn’t seem eager to continue the fight. “This is a losing battle, no?”

“Fuck a losing battle,” Pete growled. “Every goddamn battle I’ve ever fought was a losing battle.”

“But this is not so bad, right?” Bannji argued. “We get the food, and we get the women, we get the booze.”

“Why not have all three, and be free? I promise you, brother, freedom is the chocolate icing that makes everything taste better.”

“What is the point?” Bannji waved him off. “My baby girl is with the Angels, and my lovely wife is missing because this place is too fucking big,” Pete recalled a conversation that had once taken place between him and Jonas. It had occurred just after they had reconciled their differences, and Pete had asked his age.

“Nineteen, just a few years over the age limit,” Jonas had said.

“Age limit, for what?”

“To kick it with the Angels on the fifth floor. It doesn’t last long; eventually, you come of age, and they send you packing to the first floor,” as the memory returned to Pete’s mind, he grimaced at Bannji.

“Brother, I hate to break it to you,” Pete sighed. “If you died during the genocide, your baby girl ain’t with the angels anymore.”

“What are you talking about, Brother?” Bannji's smile became strained. “Don’t joke around. Everyone knows that kids go to the fifth floor.”

“But it doesn’t last long,” Pete quoted Jonas. “Eventually, the kids come of age, and the angels send them back to the first floor,” Bannji shook his head in disbelief.

“Brother, do not play jokes on me,” his voice was tense, but he tried to maintain the goodwill between them. “Please do not put that thought in my mind.”

“It’s the truth. I swear to God,” Pete’s one good eye was unblinking. “Once the kids turn eighteen, they get sent back to the first floor to live among us.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” Bannji’s breathing became haggard. “Say you are lying to distract me. Say that, and we can be okay,” Pete could only grimace as he witnessed firsthand the emotions that a distraught father could have.

“Bannji,” said Pete. “I swear on my wife’s soul that I’m telling the truth. I swear on everything I stand for as a man, a husband, and a black panther,” but Bannji looked tearful as he began to plead.

“Brother, don’t tell me my baby girl is all alone in this world,” and tears began to fall down his cheeks. “Brother, please don’t tell me that while I’ve been down here… she's been up there fighting for her life.”

“I’m sorry, Bannji,” Pete felt empty inside as he watched a man of Bannji’s caliber cry.

“What have I done?” Bannji punched himself against the head. “Why did you tell me this?” His muffled crying became erratic as he imagined all the horrible things his daughter had gone through while he was eating, fucking, and fighting down in Little Wrath City.

“Bannji!” Pete saw a glimmer of hope. “It’s not too late!”

“No, it is too late,” Bannji was on his knees and buried his face with his hands. “We died many years ago. She has already been here too long, Brother,” he removed his hands from his face, and Pete witnessed Bannji's expression of pure desperation. “I am not good at math. Please help me, Brother,” Pete seemed to understand what he was asking and nodded.

“Tell me, Bannji. When did she die, and how old she was.”

“She died in ninety-four,” he choked. “She was three years old,” Pete began running the numbers in his mind.

“Your daughter is twenty-eight or twenty-nine years old. “She’s been on the first floor of Hell for over a decade.”

“No!” Bannji sobbed. “Why do they do this? Why did the angels kick her out?”

“Brother, I don’t make the rules,” Pete said. “My people never did. We either live by those rules or fight to change them.”

“She could be like me!” Bannji had just come to the realization. "She could be a slave, just like me!”

“And she could be trying to escape, just like me,” Pete knew it was his chance to bring Bannji over to their side, and he had to seize the opportunity. “And just like you, someone could be trying to stop her,” his words contained so much power that Bannji shivered.

“Tell me, Brother,” Bannji’s voice went quiet. “Is it too late for me?”

“You tell me, brother!” Pete shouted, and it shocked Bannji out of his tears. “Did you search every goddamn nook and cranny looking for her? Did you try to find her mother?” Each word pierced Bannji's heart like bullets. “Is it too late for you to get off your goddamn knees to get up and fight for your daughter—to do your goddamn duty as a father and protect her?”

“I don’t know!” Bannji shouted. “If I search for her, how do I find her?”

“Why don’t you ask for some fucking help?”

“Please,” Bannji looked desperate. “Please, Brother. Help me find my baby girl,” he was practically begging. “Please help me find her.”

“Of course, I’ll goddamn help you!” Pete slapped his chest. “But I can’t do shit while we’re stuck in this goddamn sewer! I can’t do shit while I’m a fucking slave! Can you?”

“No,” Bannji began to wipe the tears from his face. “I can’t do shit when I’m a slave. You're right,” he slowly got to his feet.

“There’s only one motherfucking opportunity to make things right, and it’s through that goddamn door over there.”

“Then,” Bannji took a deep breath as his Sin Scars began to glow with new vigor. “We go through that goddamn door, my Brother. I will help you get through that door.”

Thank you to my Gold Patron, PandaLady12

Tower of Hell: Caged and Confused, Book 1, Chapter 112

The force of collision that came from Jonas’ attack and Howard's block was so powerful and filled with so much Sin: it sent them both flying backward, and as Jonas skidded to a halt on the stone floor, he watched as dozens of fighters flew past and charged toward the elites.

“Throw the iron rods!” Jonas yelled. He foresaw the moment when his forces clashed with the enemy and knew it wouldn't go well for his men. “Aim to kill!” Jonas gripped the stolen iron baton from the waistline of his pants, wheeled his arm back, and threw it as hard as he could directly at the face of Don Marino. It hit him square in the forehead, and his body fell backward from the impact. The rest of the gang leaders and their fighters watched in horror as thirty or so batons came flying toward them like a hail of arrows.

Jonas wasn’t sure where the inspiration had come from but was happy he had it. When the first wave of fighters reached the elites, the batons had broken their guard and allowed the slaves and blue-collar fighters to swarm their targets and get a few good hits before the enemy retaliated.

As he charged into the mayhem, Jonas dodged a body that Howard had thrown his way, slid underneath the legs of Thomas Vale, and punched upward: striking him right in the groin. Jonas didn't look back, but if he did, he would have seen Thomas grabbing his crotch while fighters overshadowed him and took him out of view.

It didn’t take long to find Howard because he threw another person at Jonas, who followed the source, and he saw five low-ranking fighters trying to take the President down to no avail. Within a few moves, those fighters were knocked unconscious, and an unlucky one had his neck snapped like a twig. The fighter's eyes rolled, and he hit the floor dead like a rock. Howard Hurts smirked, kicked one of the fallen slaves in the head, and turned to face Jonas.

“Leave Howard to me!” Jonas screamed as he watched two more fighters try to approach. Howard breaking that slave's neck was a terrible scene, and it turned Jonas' stomach. Those fighters nodded, quickly turned tail, and began fighting with their fellows against Michael Davis, who was swarmed and looked irritated because a small-time gladiator had wrapped his neck and was choking him.

Jonas stepped forward and attacked without hesitation, while Howard met Jonas' attack with a block, but that block quickly transformed into a vicious counterattack that hit the young fighter straight into the face. From the brief exchange, Jonas knew Howard Hurts was the strongest opponent he had ever faced.

The fact the President was nearly a True Sinner became apparent as they exchanged blows, and Howard introduced Jonas to their difference in power by striking him multiple times, so quickly he couldn't react.

After throwing caution to the wind and eating a vicious attack to the face, Jonas managed to close the distance between him and Howard and landed a haymaker right to the gang leader’s chin that made his head jerk violently to the side and followed it up with a kick.

Howard blocked the kick and didn't receive much damage at all. Jonas could barely breathe as his opponent hit him with a tremendous series of attacks on his face, chest, and gut. Howard’s punches were so fast and deadly that Jonas felt like he was trying to fight against an assault rifle.

Jonas couldn't afford to lose, and his thoughts were erratic as he managed to gain some distance between himself and his assailant. Although a much stronger opponent overwhelmed him, this didn’t stop his Pride from feeling more firm than ever before because everyone needed him to win: it wasn't a choice.

Jonas had spent over a year learning so many different lessons, and he had discovered a ton about Sin, and it had nearly cost him his life. As his next Pride-filled attack struck Howard across the face, he watched with joy as it sent his opponent flying. It had been a speedy, unavoidable attack.

There were very few fighters who had the time to sneak a glance at the battle between Howard and Jonas, and their eyes bulged with shock when they saw a lowly slave send Howard flying, and a boost of morale filled their bellies as they continued their battles with renewed vigor—the war had yet to be lost.

As Howard and Jonas prepared for another round of blows, intense battles took place around them. In particular, one of those fights had become bitter.

Yotama Yuki exchanged an intense series of attacks with her opponent Xiao Lin, and she wasn’t fairing very well against him, as her face was bleeding profusely from a split lip, and her left eye looked very swollen.

“Get away!” She yelled at Ralph, who had been trying to tag-team fight with her. “Help the others. I don’t need you!”

“But we'll have a better chance together, don't be ridiculous,” Ralph had watched them exchange blows numerous times and could see that Yuki was at a disadvantage. Although he didn’t know her well, Ralph knew that Yuki was irreplaceable to Jonas, and that alone was enough to risk his life for her.

“I can’t fight him with you here,” she spat blood and stared daggers at Xiao Lin, who had acted like a gentleman by allowing her to take a breather. “I’m used to fighting alone. I can handle him,” her dark eyes gazed up at the giant. “I promise.”

“Don’t lose!” Ralph didn’t feel comfortable leaving her alone to face Xiao Lin, but he looked over and saw that Pete was being beaten harshly by Bannji Balewa, and with a roar, he trampled over to help his best friend.

“Finished?” Xiao Lin smiled politely. “Please, Yuki, stop all this nonsense.”

“That's Yotama-san to you!” she snarled. “Who the hell are you calling me by my name?” When he heard the disgust in her voice, his face grew ugly.

“Sorry,” he changed tactics and tried to smile. “Yotama-san, please rethink your actions. We both know that this will only fail,” his voice carried a pleading tone. It seemed he earnestly wanted her to rethink her options.

“Xiao Lin,” she said through heavy breaths. “I’m escaping today, dead or alive. Either way, I will no longer be a slave.”

“Yotama-san,” Xiao Lin bit his lip anxiously. “Why would you throw your life away for no reason? If you stop fighting me right now and help the gang put down this escape attempt, I guarantee Howard will forgive you. I promise!”

“Promise?” She scoffed. “You couldn’t keep your word to Jonas. Your promises mean dog shit, Xiao Lin,” Yuki shook her head. “I have a dream,” Xiao Lin rolled his eyes in frustration.

“A dream?” He looked exasperated. “Do dreams fill your belly, or do dreams warm your bed at night?” He didn’t understand her. “How could you throw away your life for something so silly.”

Even though blood spilled from her mouth, it didn’t take away from her beautiful smile. She recalled the moment Jonas and her had spoken about her dream. It was the first time a man had taken any interest in something other than her body. A feeling of Lust filled her soul as she recalled the moment when she had finally spoken the deepest desires of her heart, and Yuki knew at that moment the escape was more than just about being free: it was about being true to herself.

“Warm my bed at night?” She shot Xiao Lin a scathing look. “Xiao Lin, you and I will never be anything, no matter how many times you try. If the reason you're trying to convince me right now is that you're holding onto some flame,” Yuki licked the blood off her lips. “You should give it up because I’ll never belong to anyone. Not after today.”

Xiao Lin looked as if someone had struck him across the face with a brick, and there were obvious signs of embarrassment and disappointment as his expression changed from bitterness to hate.

“Why not me?” He asked quietly. “I’ve had my heart set on you since the first time we sparred together when you were just finding your way as a Sinner, and you needed my help. Is it because of my face or talent, or perhaps you don’t think I’m strong enough?” His voice was becoming louder and angrier as he began a battle with his inner Wrath. “What about me doesn’t please you—tell me!” He shouted the last bit as his body filled with raw hate mixed with a bit of envy.

Yuki’s heart nearly leaped from her chest, but she couldn’t help but notice that fate had thrown her a lifeline. She tilted her head up and looked down her nose at Xiao Lin.

“I could love an ugly man. I could just as easily love a man weaker than me or had no talent for Sin.”

“Then why?” He shouted. “Why him, and not me!”

“Why Jonas?” She raised an eyebrow. “I could never love a coward, and Jonas is the bravest man I’ve ever met.”

“He’s a fool!” Xiao Lin’s Sin Scars were flickering rapidly. “A dead waste of space. Do you understand, Yuki!” His eyes bulged. “How can a dead kid offer more than me?” Yuki could see that her taunting was working, but unfortunately, she felt guilty towards Xiao Lin and also grateful for all the help he had given her over the years. However, she knew the only way forward was to cut out that gentle girl inside herself. She needed to force that scared, abused housewife to be silent.

“Xiao Lin, be honest with yourself,” the gentleness inside her heart began to fade away, and she knew what she had to do. “Do you think I’d choose someone as mediocre looking as you over someone as hot as him?” Her voice became louder, as did her confidence. “Look at his accomplishments, his talent, his strength!” She was nearly shouting as a wide smirk spread across her face. “We both know that it’s him warming my bed at night, and he keeps it toasty,” her heart thumped as she watched Xiao Lin’s face turn red with rage, and his Sin Scars began to fade.

“You said!” He bared his teeth. “You said those things didn’t matter!”

“I lied, obviously,” she began to laugh. “I just wanted to save your feelings, but if you need to know the truth,” her expression was full of mock pity. “I can’t stand the sight of you, while the sight of Jonas makes me burn with passion. We both know that you could never satisfy me.”

“Slut!” Xiao Lin’s muscles ripened as he prepared to attack, but something stopped him. A little green monster lived deep inside his heart who wanted to hear the last of what she had to say before he tore her throat out.

“Oh, you know it,” she giggled. “When you had your ear pressed against my door, listening to the sounds of Jonas fucking me,” she let the words roll off her tongue. “Did you stroke your tiny little cock?”

Like a monster had been freed from its cage, Xiao Lin exploded, and he let out a primal scream as he charged haphazardly toward the opponent he both loved and hated. He looked every part of the perfect Berserker: angry, red, bulging, maniacal, and yet his Sin Scars were dull like a blade that couldn’t cut anything.

As the first punch reached her face, Yuki grabbed his arm, twisted her body, and flung her legs around his neck. It looked like Xiao Lin had just offered her a piggyback.

A terrifying creaking noise came from Xiao Lin as she broke his neck. Like an owl, or perhaps a terrible toddler’s broken toy, his twisted head in its socket, raging expression, open mouth, and bulging eyes only added to the grotesque sight.  The old Chinese warrior's stomach hit the floor, but he was still staring lifelessly into the eyes of the woman who had broken his heart and neck. Xiao Lin was undoubtedly dead.

Thank you to my Gold Patron, PandaLady12

Tower of Hell: Caged and Confused, Book 1, Chapter 111

Jonas headed the group, and it was a mark of how respected he was among the fighters and slaves because they followed him without panic and kept quiet. Luckily, the hallways of the Hurts gang were large enough to fit a group of their size, and they didn't have much difficulty traversing past the barracks and toward the main lobby.

As their footsteps echoed off the stone hallways, Jonas considered sending men to secure the other rooms of the Hurts gang, but he knew that it could be any minute that gang leadership returned, and he wanted to make sure he had all his forces ready for that moment. It was a bit of a gamble, but he knew there wasn't time to waste trying to take out each guard.

"Get ready," Jonas whispered to Johnson, and they stopped at the bend of the hallway that led into the main foyer, where two guards were usually on watch duty outside the exit door. Johnson nodded, and the two of them turned the corner. The guards weren't shocked at seeing them, but the noises of forty-or-so people caught their attention and made their expressions change from arrogance to confusion, then to panic.

"What are you doing, Ariel?" Jonas charged forward and swung at one of them, and Johnson leaped and kicked the other. The two guards were no match, and by the time the last of their riot turned the corner, both were down and unconscious.

"Through these doors is our way out," Jonas turned to stare at his nearest followers. "You need to be prepared to fight for your life. Are you guys ready?" He nodded toward the members of his crew.

"I'm still wondering about Ahmed, Yuki, and the others, but I guess we'll find out what happened soon enough," said Simon.

"Very soon," Jonas pushed open the metal doors that led to the entrance hall, and he finally saw the path to freedom. The room looked like a grand entrance chamber, only instead of being fancy like a castle, it smelled like swamp water, and mossy stone covered the walls, floors, and ceilings. At the end of the room was a massive metal door made from reinforced metal and an electronic keypad mounted on the side. Jonas knew that beyond that door led to Little Wrath City.

"There it is, boys," Ralph stepped forward and pointed at the door. "You smell that? That's freedom," and there were murmurs of excitement heard from behind.

"Does anyone have the password?" A blue-collar fighter asked. "None of us are breaking that door."

"No, we don't," Jonas stepped forward, turned around, and faced the crowd of fighters and slaves who had finally poured into the room. "Listen up! We've been planning this escape for months. Although there have been some setbacks, we're now feet from breaking free of this place," as his voice carried through the room, there were excited nods from the antsy members of the riot. "We don't have the password to get through that door, but we don't need it because, in less than five minutes, they'll open the door for us. Howard Hurts, Thomas Vale, and the rest of the top-fives will come through that door, and we need to be ready for one last push for freedom. It won't come easy, but with all of us, plus Ahmed and Yotama Yuki, we'll be able to handle anything."

"Hell yeah," Jaden tried to amp up the crowd. "We got over forty people, and they'll have what? Five?"

"Exactly. We got the numbers, and we only need to take them by surprise, and we're gone," Pete was the next to speak up.

"Fuck Howard Hurts, and fuck this gang!" Johnson screamed. "I'm getting the fuck out of here! Who's with me?" The crowd was bloodthirsty and excited, and their cheers boomed across the room. However, the noise died when the sound of scraping metal came from the other side of the room. Jonas' heart lurched, and he turned his head to witness the opening of the electronic door.

Howard Hurts came into view, and a large group of people trailed behind him. What Jonas first noticed about him wasn't his slicked hair or his fancy suit, but the angry expression he wore and the aura he was giving off was filled with murderous intent and powerful Sin, so much so that Jonas could feel it across the room. When he saw the entrance room filled with escaped slaves, a vein in his forehead began throbbing and was dangerously close to exploding. He marched forward to allow the rest of his party to enter the room.

A few moments passed while Howard fumed and glared at all the slaves. Among the people who had entered the room, Jonas recognized the first few: Ahmed, Yuki, Xiao Lin, and Garth. However, there were also a bunch of new faces that Jonas had never seen, and he assumed they were the Presidents and Vice Presidents of other gangs. After those other gang leaders entered, men wearing scrubs followed behind them, and Jonas recognized a few. Bannji Balewa, Michael Davis, and Rodney White were just a few opponents known by face.

With each new person entering the room, Jonas' heart sank just a bit more because it seemed like Howard had anticipated their escape attempt and had enough time to assemble a force. However, why did he look so angry, and why hadn't he made a move much sooner?

“Garth, you are such an asshole. You knew this was going on this whole time, and yet you thought it would be prudent to tell us only twenty minutes ago. Everything could have gone very badly if you hadn't come clean,” Thomas Vale stared wide-eyed at the scene, and his words made the expression on Howard's face grow even uglier while some of the men behind them wore smirks full of schadenfreude.

"I tried to tell you," Garth wore an innocent smile. "I only just remembered that something like this was going to happen. Wow, it's lucky I told you to bring the other top-fives with us to the VIP box to watch Pretty's fight. Who knows what would've happened if you two came by yourselves? It looks like their escape plan might have worked," as Garth spoke, Jonas' brain whirled to life, and he could finally see why and how everything was happening as it was.

Garth was an agent of Chaos. He hadn't wanted Jonas' escape plan to go too smoothly, so he convinced Howard to bring the rest of the top-fives to watch the fight. However, Garth also wanted the escape plan to happen without being shut down too early, so he only told Howard about it just minutes before.

Jonas wasn't sure how he felt about the change in plans. Sure, there were at least ten fighters on Howard Hurt's side: numerous top-fives and gang leaders. However, the fact that Garth hadn't snitched on them until the last minute meant their plan was still viable, and their element of surprise had paid off. Howard Hurts exhaled a breath, swallowed his anger, and finally spoke.

"Indeed, Garth pulled a little prank on me. He's just like that sometimes. What's important is that he told us, and we're here and ready to put an end to this nonsense. Thankfully, our neighbors so graciously offered their help."

"Howard, we've been friends for so long," a massive man in a stretched suit stepped forward and laughed.  He had a bald head, a pointed nose, and very mean-looking eyes that spoke volumes about his character. "I would hate to see slaves escape. It's just the worst, isn't it?"

“A man leaves his house for five minutes, and his dogs have forgotten who feeds them. I feel for you, Howard. I feel for you," a skinny man in a suit stepped forward.

“No worries, Howard. Don Marino is always willing to extend a hand to his friends,” said the massive gang leader who led the Marino gang. “It’s our luck we brought our fighters with us, or else, who knows what might have happened? Mike's going to love a chance at revenge against Jonas Ariel."

“No, no,” Howard waved him down. “Don't worry about it, Don. I'll talk with Jonas and settle this misunderstanding."

"Whoa, whoa," said the skinny gang leader from earlier. "Does the name Von Trip not mean anything around here? If anyone is going to fight Jonas again, it's going to be my guy, Bannji," it seemed to Jonas that the other gang leaders were here to humiliate Howard more than they were there to help stop the riot. Billy Von Trip smirked, and Bannji cracked his neck and glared at Jonas.

"It seems we all want a piece of Jonas," a handsome, dark-skinned man stepped forward and clapped his hands together. "Might I suggest that my fighter, Rodney White, gets the first shot? The Black Saints gang needs to redeem its honor."

Jonas began counting fighters. Howard, Thomas, Don Marino, Billy Von Trip, the leader of the Black Saints gang, Rodney White, Michael Davis, Bannji Balewa, Garth, and Xiao Lin. That was ten people at the level of a top-five fighter or higher. There were about forty on Jonas' side, which meant about four of their members to one of Howard's. The advantage in numbers wasn't great when he broke it down.

"My fighters will be more than enough to handle this. Xiao, Garth, Yuki, and Ahmed. Take Jonas down and put an end to this bullshit escape plan. Do it now."

“Got it, boss,” Garth shrugged at Jonas. “Sorry, Jonas. You tried your best, but Howard's forces outnumber your own. I like the odds on this side."

“Garth, you gave me your word that you would mind your business. Does that mean nothing?” Jonas smiled at the act of cowardice.

“I’m still keeping my word,” Garth pretended to look confused. "It’s my business to listen to my boss, and my boss says to capture you. “What more can I do? I’m a slave.”

“Xiao Lin,” Jonas knew his alliance with Xiao Lin was probably over, “My deal still stands. My master and I will teach you everything you need to know about Sin,” Howard turned his head to look at Xiao Lin with some interest; the Chinese warrior shook his head defensively.

“I don’t know what deal you think you had with me,” his expression turned cold. “Anything I need to learn about Sin, I can learn it from Howard.”

“You fucking coward,” Jonas chuckled. “So you can plot behind Howard’s back, but when things don’t go to plan, you pretend to be a good little doggy. Good boy!”

“Is this true?” Howard turned his head to glare at Xiao Lin, “You’ve been plotting this escape with Jonas?”

“Not at all,” Xiao Lin quickly bowed his head to his owner. “I humored Jonas to garner information, and right when I had enough, I planned on telling you.”

“Goddamn liar,” Jonas scoffed. “He was ready to sell you out when I told him my master was a Sinner.”

“Well, we can discuss this later. In the meantime, capture Jonas!” Howard's voice boomed across the room.

The top-five fighters of the Hurts gang stepped forward, and Jonas noticed complicated expressions on Ahmed's and Yuki's faces. For a split second, he was under the impression that they were really about to try to capture him, and his brain began whirling while trying to figure out if they had some sort of better plan for a later date, and maybe he should go along with it.

Suddenly they attacked, and Ahmed swung a kick at Garth while Yuki punched Xiao Lin as hard as she could, and they blasted both their unsuspecting targets. Jonas’ heart leaped in his chest as he realized his two friends had not let him down.

“Fight!” Jonas yelled as his body filled with Pride and his Sin Scars began to glow. “Fight now or forever be a slave!” He charged straight toward Howard Hurts.

Johnson was the first companion to follow Jonas. Simon, Pete, Ralph, and Jaden followed soon after. Simon screamed as he went running after Ahmed in the direction of Garth. Ralph went off after Yuki in the opposite direction towards Xiao Lin.

“No more slavery!” Pete screamed. “Fight the oppressors!” He and Jaden went after Jonas. Seeing so many gladiators charge toward the enemy inspired courage in the many low-ranking fighters who accompanied Jonas in his breakout. They threw caution to the wind as they filled their bodies with Sin and charged in different directions.

The dummy slaves, however, didn’t move. They seemed stuck in place, worried that their lack of strength would undoubtedly get in the way of those great Sinners who had just charged into battle, and many of them wondered whether they could just sit at the sidelines and wait for a winner.

Theo could see that his fellows were struggling with the decision, and as he stepped forward to join his friends, he turned to look at them.

“I’m just a lowly slave, like you,” he looked at their bloody and scared faces. “I know I don’t have the strength to make much of a difference, but I also know that I’d rather die for freedom than live as a slave!” He turned and chased after Jonas.

“Theo, come back, you crazy bastard!” One slave yelled after him, and he hadn't wanted to join, but Theo had been the closest thing to a friend he ever had in Hell, so he ran after him.

Two slaves were enough for the entire group to be swept by their courage. Nearly twenty of them charged like a stampede in different directions, and rage-filled screams came from their bellies as they waved iron rods haphazardly in the air.

Jonas turned his head one last time, and when he did, he couldn’t have imagined a more beautiful sight, and all the people who had decided to join him filled his chest with more Pride than he had ever felt. He turned to face Howard and smiled.

Sunday Chapter Update

Today's chapter will be late! I had to rewrite it, and it won't be finished until late tonight or tomorrow. I'm so sorry for the inconvenience. I've started a new full-time job and have fallen behind on some of my editing.

I appreciate your understanding, and I'll get you the chapter as soon as possible. Thank you all!