Your peaceful silence is interrupted by a hard face plant directly into some mud. Groaning at the ache that resides in your muscles, you shakily push yourself up. What had happened? You rested on your knees, still sitting in the mud. A grimace adorned your features as you tried to decipher what was happening. Taking a small ounce of solace in the darkness behind your closed eyes, you brought yourself back a few hours. You were just finishing up at work and you clocked out and headed to your car. On the drive home you were going through an intersection and-

Oh. Oh God. Your eyes shot open. The sky was a dark, cloudy red, people walked the streets in the distance, and you could hear the faint sound of cars honking at each other. You were going to be sick. Wiping your mud covered face, you stood up on wobbly legs. Were you bleeding? Were you alive? Were you dead? What the fuck is happening? Looking around at the dead brush you landed near, you feel bile rise up in your throat. You promptly threw up mere stomach acid onto a nearby tree stump.

Great, now your throat hurts too. You spat onto the ground and wiped your mouth with the sleeve of your shirt. The same shirt you had just been wearing to work. You trudge towards the bustling city, anxiety settling in hard. This was a whole new place, and seeing strange creatures roaming around the streets only served to increase your paranoia. Accelerating your pace, you kept walking in the same general direction, attempting to form a coherent thought. Your mind was a large jumble of panic, stress, and most prominently, confusion. You are passing apartments now.

Would it hurt to knock on one of the doors and ask where you were? You stopped nearby one and hesitantly moved to stand in front of the door. Holding your hand up, you repeated the same instruction over and over in your head, 'Knock on the door, ask where you are. Knock on the door, ask where you are. Knock on the door. Ask where you are. Knock and ask. Knock and Ask. Knock and-' your knuckles rapped on the door quietly.

No answer. You took a deep breath and tried again, this time a bit louder. Finally you heard a grumble and a shuffle of feet. After the click of a lock, the door cracked open. A tall, scaly creature peered down at you with a sneer. "I don't want whatever the fuck you're sellin'," the stranger said. You panic, "No-I mean-could you just-"

The door slams shut and the lock clicks back into place. You back away from the door, rubbing your arms. The shirt you were wearing harboured several tears and it was quite cold outside. Okay. This wasn't the end of the world, you could ask someone else! You went to the next house over and repeated your actions, only to be cursed at and have another door slammed on you. Not willing to give in so easily, you headed to another house and knocked once more.

Only to have yet another door slammed in your face.

This continued for at least an hour, and the sky was beginning to darken even further. By that time you were shivering, holding back tears, and on the verge of an intense panic attack. Not to mention the fact that some of the people resorted to physical violence to get you away from their property. This left you with more than a few bruises and a few potential scratches you had yet to check out. Finally, you arrived at a large building. It looked like a rather empty hotel, spare a select few lit windows. You couldn't help but notice how gorgeous the stained glass was compared to the surrounding buildings. Hope sparked in your chest and you shakily went to knock on the door. Three soft knocks resounded before you backed up from the door, not particularly wanting to be injured any further. The door opens to reveal a tall blonde woman who is eyeing you curiously. She has pale skin, red cheeks, and she's dressed rather formally. So, she must be the owner or perhaps a manager. Her name tag reads, 'Charlie,' in neatly scrawled letters. After looking you over briefly, a smile spreads across her face, "Hey, um, welcome to the Happy Hotel! Usually people just walk in, but um, it's okay that you didn't! Are you here to check in?"

You feel your lip quiver without even getting a word out, and those tears you were holding back threatened to spill any second now. Someone finally opened the door and kept it open, and you could barely explain your situation. You finally manage to say something, "I-um-I don't-I'm sorry to bother you, but um-can you please help me I...I don't-" you stammer, tears stinging your eyes as they roll down your cheeks, warm against the cold. "I don't know w-where I am or where-" you choke on a sob, "where to go, and-" you're starting to become an incomprehensible mess of sobs.

Without hesitation, Charlie wraps an arm around your shoulder and leads you inside, "Oh hun, come on in, I'll make some tea and we can talk about what's happened, okay?" She brings you to the lobby of the hotel, letting you sit down in a plush chair. Worry is plain on her features, but she still gives you a sympathetic smile as she hands you some tissues. "I'll be right back with that tea, for now you just try to calm down, okay?" You nod in response, trying to force down the impending panic attack.

You take several deep breaths, and within a few minutes, you were able to slow your heartbeat and dry away your tears. In order to not begin panicking again, you take a look around at the hotel lobby. By the kitchen door that Charlie had disappeared behind, there was a bar. At the bar was a grey and red anthropomorphic cat that seemed to have card suits all over his fur. He seemed to be drunk, and was sipping from a bottle quite literally labelled 'Cheap Booze'. Somehow not the strangest creature you've seen so far. The hotel was furnished with mainly red and black decorations. Portraits line the wall, most containing Charlie, and popped out against the colours of the wall. You still marvelled at the stained glass. Certainly it looked even more stunning during the day. Down the hallway leading to some rooms and a staircase, you could see a short, pink creature fervently scrubbing at a spot on the floor.

As you were speculating about the critter, Charlie returned from the kitchen and strolled over to you. She placed a tea tray on the coffee table and took a seat in the armchair beside yours. She offers you a small smile, handing you one of the cups of tea and gesturing to the sugar jar on the tray, "Help yourself if you want any," she puts a few scoops of sugar in her own tea and stirs it around. You put in a few spoonfuls and watch the grains dissolve with a few stirs. Charlie sets her cup down on the table and brings her full attention to you, unsure of how to approach the topic at hand. You sip from the cup, then lower it to your lap.

"Are you feeling a little better? I mean I'm sure you're not completely okay, but are you alright to talk?" She asks softly. You nod. No matter how distressed you were at the sudden change in surroundings, you needed answers. "You don't have to beat around the bush with answers though, okay? I can handle it, and I've already taken up so much of your time," you turn yourself to face Charlie. Her smile is nervous, strained, even, "You've barely taken any time! Plus I don't mind, I wasn't doing much anyways." She explains, likely to stall for time. "Right, well, um, to put it bluntly, you're in Hell."

Your brows raise, then furrow. You had never been very religious, if at all. The thought that Hell existed hadn't really crossed your mind, even after arriving. This place just seemed like a weird fever dream. After a few beats of silence, you speak up, "I thought Hell was supposed to be all fires and enternal torture, you know? I mean besides all the weird mutations, this place seems pretty normal." At this, Charlie lets out a laugh. Her grin softens into a smile as she regains her composure, "Yeah, a lot of people assume that before they arrive, but I don't think you've seen nearly enough of Hell to make that judgement."

She stirs her tea idly, "It's really overpopulated and frankly, pretty disgusting," she grimaces for a second before her gaze softens once more, "But I love the citizens. Which is why I opened the Hotel, to guide sinners to redemption. Although business isn't exactly booming." She laments, gaze no longer trained on you, rather she just happened to stop her eyes on you. She finally fixates on your person and smiles a little, "Do you think you'd be interested in staying?"

You purse your lips slightly, mulling over the question. You weren't even sure if redemption was possible. Plus, would Heaven be any better than Hell? If people are being sent straight to the underworld for menial things, would redemption even be worth it? Perhaps it was better up there. You don't have anywhere to go, so you kind of don't have a choice. You let out a breath of air and nod, "I'd like to try, sure."

Charlie's eyes light up, "That's awesome! Okay so we have to get your information and all that, then we can get'cha your room key!" She sets her tea down and stands, "Wait here, I'll go get the new member papers!" she hurries away. Meanwhile, you look back to the cat. He was in the exact same position, still drinking. He looks back at you, eyes narrowing, and sets down the bottle.

"The hell you want?"

"I didn't-sorry," you stammer.

"Fuck you," he returns the bottle to his mouth and looks away.

You sigh just as Charlie comes jogging back with a clipboard and a pen. She hands it to you with a grin, "Here, fill this stuff out!"

Giving it a once over, you quirk a brow at the mandatory favourite colour question and look up at her, "Why favourite colour?" Charlie grins a little wider, "You'll see! Any colour you want…as long as it's not like black or grey, because we need positive colours and those colours kinda project a negative mood," she rambles. You stare at the question for a second before shrugging and answering with your favourite colour. Then you return to the top of the sheet.

First name, middle name, last name, nickname, birthday, all that junk. You stop when you reach the date and cause of death. Hastily, you scribble the phrase 'Car crash' but think more on the date. As you are unable to remember, you look to Charlie for some kind of guidance. She leans over to look, "Oh! If you don't remember the date, it's November 13th here in Hell," she doesn't seem to glance at the cause of death, and stands back once more.

You scribble the date, then come to the final few questions. Prominent reasons for ending up in Hell, any addictions, allergies, important medical information. It was easy enough to fill out everything but this section. After all, you couldn't recall most of the information required for the questions. Who knows, you may have had an allergy or two, maybe you were addicted to caffeine, or maybe you were narcoleptic or something. You didn't know. That in and of itself was frustrating. But even more frustrating is that you don't even know what you did to end up in Hell. You look to Charlie, halfway holding out the clipboard to her, "I..don't remember the answers to these questions."

She takes it from you and looks it over, "That's okay, we can fill this stuff out later if you want." She tucks it under her arm and takes a key out of her pocket, "Come on! Let's get you into your room," Offering a half-hearted smile, you follow her upstairs. She stops at a door in the middle and unlocks it before holding open the door and allowing you to enter. It was quaint, and frankly, pretty clean for a room that was supposed to be vacant. The wallpaper was hues of your favourite colour. It brought you a bit of joy to see the ornate stripes pop out against everything else. The bed was larger than you expected, with a fluffy looking comforter resting atop. There was an empty dresser across the room, and a nightstand adjacent to the bed that had a lamp perched on it.

You turned to see Charlie grinning wildly, practically bouncing with excitement, "It's not that much, but I just know that once you get settled in, it'll really feel like home!"

A small, genuine smile adorned your face, "It's perfect, thank you, um, Charlie," you half stammer. She had never told you her name, hopefully it was okay addressing her by her first name after only reading her nametag. Charlie, however, didn't even seem to notice that she hadn't formally introduced herself, and nearly squealed with glee. "You're going to love it here!" She pushes the room key into your hand. "Let me know if you need anything, okay? And don't be afraid to ask!"

You clutch the keys, "Thanks, I'll see you in the morning?"

"You betcha! Night, Y/n!" She turns on her heel and begins bouncing down the hall before you can even reply.

"Night," you speak, barely above a whisper, and close the door softly. There was no way she heard you.

You plod to the bed and sit down, allowing an uneasy breath to escape your lungs. After setting the key down on the nightstand, you bring your knees up to your chest and rub your temples. This was all so aggravating. You were in a new place, and though you were thankful for all that's happened within the last hour and a half, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. You could scarcely even remember your life before you fell into the underworld. And now you were expected to accept that so easily.

Maybe if you just stopped thinking about anything for a while, you'd feel better. You sigh and bring your hands down to your sides, stretching out your legs. Settling back on the bed, you bring a hand up to push some hair out of your face.

But you stop midway.

Because there, clear as day underneath your skin, something was wriggling.