Vicious Cycle

Rowan felt much better after talking with Crowley. His little handsy action was excellent, leaving her wanting more, but now wasn't the time for sex. She had work to do and she felt energized. The best part was having an idea on how to deal with Metatron.

Rowan had crossed into the entrance, down the escalator to Helheim, took an elevator, giving Bjarni a wave and a smile, since she leaned over her desk to see how she was doing. She entered the elevator, pressed the number three button and the doors closed.

When it lowered and stopped, doors opening, she looked at that darkness with a smile.

No stress. At least not yet.

Rowan took her amethyst earrings out of her ear, taking the sharp backing and dug it into her palm, cutting her skin open. As the blood began to drip through a clenched fist, she extended her hand, letting the blood fall on the floor of the vast cavern. The darkness began to dissipate, creating stone floors and walls, not as nice as the two first levels, but nice enough. There was a blue sky above with a warm brilliant sun. It seemed nice to have that, making the souls feel like they weren't underneath the earth, because they pretty much were, even if she could confuse them by saying it was another dimension.

The lobby of elevators was to the right exactly like the first two levels. There were corridors and archways and more blood went into shifting it so that when the souls entered, their room would shift right in front of them. It was highly mysterious to the human mind, but nothing was impossible in the afterlife.

So, the third level was more or less the same and the souls might also enjoy the perks of the upper levels. However, details for later.

Rowan turned to the wall of the elevator lobby, thinking of a name for the third level. The first level of Helheim, named Glory, was for selfless souls while the second level, named Heart, was for those with good intentions, trying their best to be selfless. The third level should be for those that want to be selfless and try, but fall somewhat short of meeting those expectations. It wasn't to say that those souls weren't deserving of good things. They would simply be the difference between the upper and lower levels of Helheim.

The third level would be where she drew the line.

And the perfect name would be Chance. The souls would get the chance to know that wanting to do well for others was what separated you from those that did selfish things.

The wall began to simmer, as charred lines began to spread, spelling out the word Chance. There were designs of birds and butterflies surrounding the word, making it look pretty.

As Rowan turned to look at her work, she was feeling much better. She wasn't stressing about the details because it was more or less falling into place. She wasn't even sure she still needed to talk to Crowley about sorting the souls. It seemed like she was doing pretty good at figuring it out as she went.

Rowan stepped to the first elevator and waited for the downs to open, to take her down to the fourth level. She felt good enough for another level, even though her Draugar suggested that she should only do one level at a time. She stepped into the elevator, taking her down to the fourth level. When the doors opened, she had to repeat everything.

She cut her palm with her earring, dripping blood on the dark floor of the cavern, envisioning stone walls and floor like the third floor. She wanted corridors and archways to the left with the same elevator lobby to the right. She dripped more blood to make the labyrinth shift to bring the correct room to the soul. It was exactly the same as the third level, except this time, no name was going on the bare wall of the elevator lobby.

This was where the lower part of Helheim would start. This would be the gray zone, where the souls may not have wanted to do well by others. An example of that could be someone who simply watched as another could have used their help, but they did nothing. Of course, it depends on the situation; someone sees a woman drop her groceries and don't bother to help her may end up in the fourth level while someone who sees a person getting beaten behind a building might go lower than the fourth level. However, the details could be figured out later if they didn't fall into place.

Things were going pretty good anyway.

So, Rowan decided that the fourth level would be named Cold, as there was a difference between the third and fourth level; Chance would be the souls that wanted to do good whereas Cold might not. Hence why she wasn't going to write Cold on the bare wall of the lobby; she didn't want to tip off the souls to the importance of the number of levels, not unless she really wanted them to know, like the seventh level which was totally going to be Groundhog Day.

Rowan finished up the fourth level and turned to the elevator. She wasn't stressed or overwhelmed, until a horrifying idea hit her.

What if the soul's family is in upper or lower levels? They'd be separated? How could they be with their family and be happy if they were separated?

The stress began to crash over her again like the waves at the beach. Rowan braced herself against the walls of the elevator, pressed the M button to return to the office to take a break. Maybe she should have listened to her Draugar and strictly do only one level at a time.

She took deep breaths and reminded herself that if, for example, a soul was in the fourth level and their family was in the first or second levels, they would have to show Rowan a bit of progress compared to their life on earth. Maybe show a bit of regret or what not. Once again, Rowan's favorite phrase: details for later.

When the elevator reached the main floor, Rowan stepped out, feeling better, but definitely wore out. The stress wasn't as bad as the previous time, but she could feel it linger like a sickening buzz after drinking a bottle of whiskey.

Rowan walked into the office and sat behind her desk. Immediately, her Draugar noticed a little ping of stress in her expression, but she gave them a small smile, reassuring them that she was fine.

"I swear, after everything is done, I'm locking myself up in a room with Crowley." she said, making them grin.

The office was filled with silence, which was comforting to Rowan. It helped her stress to fall away as she relaxed. Her computer was done downloading whatever files and she got it started up. Her Draugar had already programmed it to her name and left her to password protect it. Her wallpaper was a boring purple flower and there was basically nothing on her desktop. What was she going to put on her computer? There wasn't exactly a Microsoft program of Death. And she had a Mac computer, so she didn't think Apple had any kind of Death software either. Rowan wanted to have the data of the souls on the computers and iPads, but it was to find a way of compiling the data on electronic devices.

Oh, iCloud would be good.

And the stress was back just by thinking of creating a computer software for the souls of Helheim.

Why was she so stressed out? After working on Helheim, she could feel stress increasing and she'd worry about the things she had to get done. Then, when she's rested, or comforted by those around her, she was fine. She was confident and ready to work. Then the stress returned when she was tired. It was a fucking rollercoaster!

She took deep breaths and focused on those around rather than the self-imposed pressure to figure everything out, to get everything done. She was Rowan, the Goddess formerly known as Hel, Ruler of Helheim, Keeper of the dead, Queen of the Underworld. She was like Game of Thrones' Daenerys Targaryen with all her titles; Daenerys Stormborn, the First of Her Name, Khaleesi, Mother of Dragons, Breaker of Chains, Queen of Meereen. The only difference, Rowan didn't have as many titles as Daenerys.

Oh, and Rowan missed an entire season! Shit!

And there's the stress again.

Rowan opened the computer programs, staring at them in hopes of getting inspiration to figure out a way to compile personal data all in one easy to navigate program and to get her mind of Game of Thrones.

She could imagine the reapers bringing in souls and, just by looking at them, she'll know their name and their life story like she did when she was a little girl. She'll mark it in the program as well as which level they're to go. They'll be given a ticket, saying which level to go and their room will be there for them, with their name on the plaque. And if her Draugar and her want to look up a soul, just type it in and the information will be summoned to the screen.

It would be a lot of work, especially at first, and most of it would once again be on her shoulders, but eventually she'd figure out a way to share the responsibility with her Draugar. She had given them great power long ago, but having been tortured into demons changed that. Was it possible to turn them back?

Okay, stupid question, but the cure that the Winchesters had tried on Crowley would have made him human. Her Draugar weren't exactly human; they were souls still attached to their corpses so they could walk the earth with her. That had been their gift.

No matter, she could figure that out later as well. Maybe there was something she could give them regardless of their demonic essence. They would have to have the same ability as Rowan; see the soul, know its name and its life story so they could place it according to her criteria.

And the stress returned, maybe because it wasn't so easy working with others. Sure, the responsibilities are shared, but they don't know the thoughts in your head, the decisions you want to make.

Rowan brushed it off, taking a deep breath. She was over thinking it again.

"Are you alright, Milady?" Agmundr asked and when Rowan looked up at them, they were staring at her with concern.

"Rowan." She immediately corrected. Right now, she just wanted a bit of normalcy. "I'm just over thinking." She said and they tried not to exchange glances, which wasn't helping. "Creating the levels of Helheim isn't just draining me of power, but of my…" she added, dropping her sentence because she wasn't sure how to put it into words. How did she feel, exactly? A little unstable, like she's on uneven ground. Heck, like she isn't grounded at all. "My sanity." She concluded and that didn't help her Draugar to relax. They seemed nearly panicked with the news.

"Rowan, you're not going crazy." Bjarni said, stepped out from her corner of the office and kneeling beside Rowan with a soft expression. "You're right, building Helheim takes a lot out of you. Stick to one level at a time. Everything else can wait. Baby steps." She added, making Rowan smile.

"And feel free to sneak off to Crowley any time." Raganhar said, making her let out a little laugh of relief. "Take longer than fifteen minutes too." He added, making her laugh again. She looked at them, smiling, and they knew that she was alright. Bjarni seemed relieved and left her to work, as she saw computer programs up and running.

Rowan had stared at Bjarni for a few seconds more before looking back at her computer screen. Her Draugar definitely weren't acting like demons. If anything, she could have sworn that Bjarni's black essence was dissipating, like her demonic condition was slowly reversing.

How beautifully strange.