Chapter 2: The First Day

When I regained consciousness, I was lying on the ground in a darkened room.

The reptile takes a moment to look up from his writing and gaze at the room that currently surrounds him. It is as stony as ever.

After staying in a place like this for centuries, one tends to become accustomed to the accommodations. Thus, it becomes difficult to imagine how one would have reacted to being exposed to such a place for the first time.

As he focuses his attention on the room around him, he is able to recall the details again. The air carries the general scent of sulfur, and despite the stalactites that would normally suggest the presence of moisture, it feels rather dry to the body. The stones, while seemingly ordinary, exude a great deal of heat. A small amount of light as well, he suspects. He can't recall ever seeing his own shadow in his entire time here.

He is well aware that many would consider these conditions irritating. Hellish, even. He doesn't know if he has ever had that problem. It remains more comfortable than the conditions of the desert, after all.

His problem has always been the ceilings.

The lizard slowly sat up, assessing the situation around himself. He was no longer in pain and no longer bled. That was worth noting. Either he had been unconscious for a long time or his opponents were trained in medicine.

He was surrounded on all sides. A large variety of creatures of various types, colors and heights were mingling with each other within the expansive room. None of them seemed to come up to higher than his eye level when he was in a sitting position. Despite the lack of similarity between most of the inhabitants, he kept feeling like he stood out more than the others. Many of the ones nearest his position were paying very close attention to him.

An individual who witnessed these creatures for the first time might have been terrified. There were creatures of flesh, of stone, of bone, and of most imaginable substances found on this planet. Many were hideous, some resembled a mixture of varying surface species, and a number could have passed for the surface dwellers easily. Most looked capable of posing a threat.

But he failed to be taken aback now. He had his opportunity earlier. These were the same creatures he had been ordering around only a short time ago, weren't they?

"Your name."

This was odd, the reptile considered. Everyone who was staring at him acted like they had never seen him before in their life. He hadn't missed any of them when he employed the control device, had he? Was this one of the device's natural effects? Perhaps he should have asked his superiors about the long-term effects of the device when he had...

"I said, tell me your name."

Someone was speaking to him. He gazed around the floor until he found what appeared to be a horned goat that stood on two hooves. It was holding a document in one hand and was gesturing at him with a writing implement in the other hand. Its expression was that of casual annoyance.

If nothing else, he thought, go for consistency. / You do not understand /, he once again pronounced in his own race's language.

The goat paused for a moment in confusion. "Galamoth?" it ventured.

The reptile looked at him impassively, then repeated his foreign comment. The goat nodded in response and wrote something down.

Galamoth, the reptile thinks to himself as he looks at what he has written. He has never seen that word in writing before today, has he? His language has more intricacies of the tongue than that spelling implies, but it was not a bad approximation at the time. Better than whatever Dracula spat out earlier.

But it was because of Dracula's error that he kept using it, wasn't it? And now, he considers, he can't imagine anyone calling him anything else.

That's odd, he realizes. He has just started writing his autobiography today, and he hadn't even filled a page before he pointed out that Galamoth wasn't his name.

He shakes his head. He can't even believe it when he's the one who wrote it in the first place. Everyone calls him Galamoth. He calls himself Galamoth. He has never used his real name since he arrived here. Not even with her.

It's just as well. He'd hate to see how these demons would have attempted to spell it.

"You are not in our records."

Galamoth froze. Dracula had said something like that earlier. Do these creatures happen to know every name that has ever existed? Would they know him under another name? Should he have corrected Dracula when he had the chance?

"Well? Explain yourself."

Galamoth raised his hand to the ceiling. "Dracula sends me."

The goat shook its head. "Lord Thanatos brought you here. Now answer!"

Galamoth grumbled to himself. This was not going well. He had never been told what to do in this situation. If this continued, he would have to tell someone what he actually was. And then they'd forcibly remove his head and various inner organs and place them somewhere as a visual reminder of what happens when you attempt to overthrow a leader.

The goat still expected a response. Okay, he thought. Start small. "I am new. I do not know my reason here."

The other individual rolled its eyes. "Great. Another imbecile. Let me put it another way. What do you do?"

Galamoth did not know the meaning of that word, but it sounded like an insult. "I am here for my fight with the son of..."

"That's not what I asked", the goat said in an exasperated tone. "We have a section for people who are known for what they did before, and let me tell you, you don't want to be in there. Try again. What do you do?"

Realization dawned on Galamoth. The question was easier than he had expected. In a loud voice, he responded. "I train in the battle. I use magic very well, and I am much more large and strong than all you."

Despite his elongated snout, Galamoth has no trouble holding his head in his hand and muttering. Why did he ever think it was a good idea to write this part of the story? Surely no one would have noticed if he had started his story at a point when he didn't sound like a complete moron whenever he opened his mouth...

He picks up the pen again and proceeds to make himself look worse.

The goat merely nodded at me and started writing something down on his document. I didn't get a chance to take a look at the sheet before he glared at me and filed it away. Then he straightened himself up and said about the last thing I expected him to say at the time.

"Well then, Galamoth, you are now officially a demon. Welcome to our little corner of hell. For your sake, I hope you manage to fit in. Move along."

I missed his joke entirely at the time. It didn't matter. I learned what he meant less than ten seconds later as I stood up to walk away. In the process of looking around at the "demons", to use the goat's term, I had failed to notice that I was several feet taller than the ceiling level. The demons laughed. I couldn't blame them, but I gave them a threatening glare nonetheless.

Galamoth sighs again. But this time, the sigh does not come from the embarrassment of making a bad first impression. Instead, it stems from the discomfort of many hundreds of years of having to walk with a slouched posture.

As I stormed away, holding my head in pain, I took comfort in two facts. First, the demons were making an effort to clear out of my way. It was likely that this was less about respect than it was about making sure they didn't get trampled underfoot, but I appreciated not having to worry about such things.

And second, they didn't realize just how good my hearing really is. I could parse their whispered asides easily.

"Is he a dinosaur?"

"I don't know. He doesn't have a tail."

"Is that all you need to be to get in now?"

"I guess being extinct is enough. They let those dodos in."

"He's about as smart as one!"

"I wouldn't joke about him. He looks like he could crush you easily."

"At least he has one thing going for him."

Galamoth shakes his head. On second thought, this was not very comforting at all. I really wished I could have spoken their language as well as I could understand it.

Having seen nothing to indicate that he was expected to do anything, Galamoth started to gravitate toward some of the other demons in the room. Other demons? He thought about that briefly. He was to be considered one of them now, wasn't he? That was what Dracula had in mind, anyway. It could be considered an insult to his talents, or perhaps faith in his pledge.

His initial target was a group of metallic-looking demons that were slightly taller than his waist. They seemed comfortable enough; they were the closest to his height and they reminded him of the automata that had accompanied him on his journey to the planet.

He stopped in front of a pair of them and waited for either one to acknowledge his presence. Neither reacted. He stared at them uncomfortably for a few moments before he started to wonder if they were even living creatures.

"Hey, you. You don't want to hang out with the golems."

He looked around at the ground, trying to find the demon that had addressed him. The demons had yet to recongregate in the wake of the path that he had traveled.

"Idiot. Turn your head to the right."

He followed the voice's instructions to find a remarkably small red demon perched on top of his right shoulder. At its height, he was probably capable of holding it tightly between two fingers. After its greeting, the idea had some appeal.

It smiled at him. "Hey there. I see you're new here. Want me to show you around?"

Any anger on Galamoth's face disappeared quickly. "I will like that", he responded. "Why do you offer?"

"Well, it's a lot better than you stumbling aimlessly all over the place."

He chose to ignore that comment. "Who are you?"

"Meh, they don't give me a name. They call me an imp. Only the one-of-a-kind demons get an actual name, I guess. You got lucky there... Galamoth?"

Galamoth nodded in affirmation.

"Hey, don't do that. Just talk. It's hard enough staying perched here. You're too large to get a decent grip, you know?"

Galamoth frowned. It was easy for the imp to tell him to talk more. It spoke the language fluently, if casually.

He decided to raise the question. "Why is there no demon tall as me?"

"There are, but they usually hang out on the other side. This side's the ones Death keeps for Dracula. They have some standards."

This imp was proving more informative than Galamoth expected. "They do not like tall demons?"

"Dracula lives out in his castle, and it's not all that great for someone of your height, you know? They'd rather have demons that fit, I guess. I'm surprised they let you in here. You musta done something to catch their attention."

"I guess", Galamoth said dismissively. "What do we do?"

"Not a whole lot, at least till someone tells us to do stuff. Some guys have jobs here. There's an arena for fighting, but I don't think they'll let you in without something to wager. Some just chat all the time. Guys like me, we head up to the surface."

Galamoth's head perked up in response. "You can leave?"

The imp grinned. "Yeah. I'm one of those guys who like to torment folks. But the demons aren't all that great for that. See, you need to bother the humans for the most fun."

"Humans?"

"The guys up top. I thought you'd know them better than you know us."

Galamoth took note of this. He had studied many aspects of the surface population earlier. Now he had a name to associate with the group, as well as evidence that the two populations were connected in more ways than had first seemed apparent.

Galamoth's eyes lit up more than usual. "Show me the way."

"No problem. Just head forward a few steps, turn left, and try not to step on anyone along the way."

Galamoth grumbled as quietly as he could manage. He was getting tired of being considered clumsy. Certainly, he had never stepped on any of these demons when he was ordering them to war.

Still, he had to smile once he noticed the passages for the first time. While the main room was more than large enough to hold the full compliment of available demons, there were a number of hallways that branched from the main room. Each led to a different area of the underworld. This way, the imp explained, material goods could be stored, meetings could be organized and demons could occasionally seek privacy from the others.

After passing through one such passage, which was thankfully not narrow enough to pose any problem for Galamoth, the pair came to what appeared to be an empty room with two golems standing in the center. A quick check revealed nothing of note in the room.

The imp looked around. "Hey, what's the deal, guys? Where's the portal?"

One of the golems responded in a slow and ponderous voice. "Strict orders. He is not permitted to leave."

"What?"

"This is the decision of Dracula and Thanatos. Unless they specifically issue orders to allow him to do so, he is forbidden from leaving hell at any time."

Galamoth had no trouble coming up with a list of good reasons for this to be the case. He would be entirely too noticeable on the surface. He was too unfamiliar with the area to be trusted there. He would be considered a risk, as he had attempted to attack the planet less than a day before. They wanted him in peak condition when they called for him. They wanted to punish him for hurting them and the other demons. With all that in mind, he decided that it wasn't worth protesting the issue.

"Well, that bites", the imp snarled. "Now what am I gonna do today?"

In one quick motion, Galamoth plucked it off his shoulder and held it in front of his face. "You go to the surface. I stay here."

The imp frowned. "Yeah, but what are you gonna do?"

"I gonna do nothing. They want this."

"But that's not... eh, suit yourself."

Galamoth nodded. "You can find me later. I am not hard to find."

The imp grinned. "I see you have a sense of humor after all. See ya then."

If he wasn't so concerned with the ramifications of this new knowledge, Galamoth might have acknowledged the compliment. Instead, he simply returned to the main room, pausing only to turn and glare at the golems one last time on the way out.

I spent the next several hours sitting in the large room, doing nothing but attempting to retain my composure. The other demons did not seem to mind this.

This was not turning out to be a good day. I was trapped in a claustrophobic cavern from which there was no escape, surrounded by demons who would largely have nothing to do with me, with no idea of what I was expected to do or how long it would be before anything would happen. Even the ones who had sent me here were nowhere to be found.

I had not done enough research on human religion before my attack. If I had, I might have noticed that popular opinion suggested that hell was largely considered to be deliberately torturous for anyone held within. At the time, I would have agreed with the sentiment.

A scuffle broke out between several demons across the room. Some of the demons gathered to watch. This was not the arena the imp had mentioned, and I couldn't tell if there was a conflict or if this was a form of entertainment.

As one of the participants attempted to bring down the other by biting at his neck, I suddenly came to the realization that I had not eaten anything since I had arrived.

There is always a way to make the day worse.

Galamoth pauses briefly in his writing to reread the previous few paragraphs. Something seems to be bothering him about the sequence of events. But after a few moments and a brief shrug, he returns to his writing.

I turned to look at a demon that was walking past. "Do they give us food?"

"Huh?" he responded.

"Food. Do we get food?"

The demon gave me a dismissive "no" and continued on his way.

This did not sit well with me. If I wasn't given a meal, how was I supposed to last long enough to be of any use to the ones who sent me here?

As I looked back at the fight, I suddenly realized what was going on. A large supply of demons of various types and sizes. Freedom to act as we choose, within certain constraints. And between the fights and the presence of an arena, evidence of a survival mentality among the inhabitants.

That had to be it. I was going to have to kill and eat the other demons to survive. There could be no other explanation.

No one noticed anything unusual when Galamoth stood up and started walking around the room, carefully eyeing any demons that happened to be in the vicinity.

His attention, clouded by thoughts of delicious meat, turned to a group of small but extremely jumpy demons with hunched backs who were gathered together. They would take little effort to grab, would fit easily in his mouth, and looked more meaty than bony. Some of them carried knives; Galamoth decided to disregard those. Eventually he singled out one that was unarmed and that had strayed further from the group than the others. His target was in sight.

He slowly moved toward the group, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible. Some of them watched him as he approached, so he changed his strategy and deliberately walked past the entire group. This worked; they returned their attentions to each other once he had started to move away.

Now.

In one quick motion, he spun around, crouched to his knees, and swept his arm at ground level to seize the unsuspecting demon. Before it could react, Galamoth had shoved it directly into his maw and was chewing rapidly.

Then the shriek started.

Galamoth hadn't counted on this. He had hoped that the demon's death would have been quiet and largely unnoticed. Instead, the screams of pain continued to emanate from his closed jaws. Blood flowed freely, but its flesh was proving very difficult to tear apart, even with his naturally sharp teeth. Eventually Galamoth abandoned his effort and simply swallowed the demon.

The scream didn't stop. Aside from this annoyingly persistent sound, the room had become rather quiet. Across the room, many of the demons were watching him carefully. He was able to make out a few comments about how he was going to be in serious trouble shortly.

He was in a small amount of trouble now. The knife-wielding hunchbacks had started to gather around him, and many of them were squeaking angrily and stabbing at him repeatedly. He was starting to bleed, but the stabs were small and the pain was easily ignored.

Fine. If they wanted a conflict, he would give them one. He reached down, seized one of the knife wielders, and prepared to make him the next part of his meal. As he opened his jaws, the first victim's cries became louder again.

Then something heavy struck Galamoth in the back of the head, and he collapsed to the ground.

Galamoth grimaces as he continues to write. This was not his finest moment.

Some of the golems, apparently metallic in nature, gathered around me. Working together, they were able to turn me face up and pin my arms and legs to the ground. I attempted to struggle, but they were too heavy for me to move. A decent strategy, I had to admit. I probably could have taken down any one of the golems in a direct fight.

This was quickly followed by the sudden appearance of another individual. I recognized this one quickly; it was the floating, skull-headed demon in the cloak that I had seen in Dracula's presence earlier. Despite the lack of expression on his skull, his voice was livid. "What is the situation?"

Several demons shouted out at once. Apparently I had devoured a 'fleaman'. It was becoming increasingly obvious that I should not have done so.

He turned to face me, revealing that his eyes were glowing red. "What do you think you are doing?"

"I am hungry", I responded truthfully.

He flew directly up to my face. "No. You are not. If you value your existence, you will not move a muscle and do exactly as I say."

It was almost a reflex for me to nod at this time, but I decided against it. It wasn't worth testing my options at the moment.

"Open your mouth", he ordered.

I did so, and the shriek became louder again. From the corner of my eye, I could see another fleaman with a long cord attached to his waist approaching me. He scrambled onto my chest quickly and moved closed to my neck. Then, with an amount of agility rather surprising for someone his size, he leapt in the air and landed directly in my mouth. The cord continued to rest upon my chest.

The cloaked figure continued to give orders. "Swallow." Despite my thought that it was that very action that led to my current predicament, I obeyed.

I felt the fleaman moving inside my body, and quickly realized that he was attempting to grab the other one. Eventually the rope stopped moving, and one of the golems stepped onto my arm in order to reach it.

Once he had it in hand, I felt a jerking motion inside my chest. The golem must have felt it too, because he began to pull on the rope, and I could feel both bodies move back up my chest until they had reached my throat.

"Regurgitate", the cloaked figure commanded.

I did not know what that word meant.

He produced his blade from earlier. "Now."

The golem continued to pull on the rope, and the two fleamen were still pushing against my throat. It took me only a few more seconds to realize what he wanted me to do. Afterward, the fleamen, one tired and one covered in blood, were finally pulled free of my jaws with no further difficulties. Eventually the bloody one calmed down and stopped his annoying wail, to everyone's relief.

The cloaked figure floated upward and away from my head. "Stand and come with me."

The golems released their grips. I stood slowly, making sure that I had enough room to do so, then followed the cloaked figure through the demonic crowd.

Galamoth sets his pen down and takes a few deep breaths. Judging by his facial expression, this is not one of his favorite stories to tell.

He rereads the passage, confirms that all the details are accurate to the best of his knowledge, considers himself lucky that his inner organs remained unharmed, and then picks up the pen again with intent to detail the next conversation.

The room at the end of the hallway was unoccupied. Galamoth surmised that the cloaked entity had led him here so that the next part wouldn't be overheard by the other demons.

As the two entered the room, the entity whirled around and glared at him again. Galamoth couldn't be sure if the effect was heightened or weakened by the lack of eyes in his skull.

"Do you know what a demon is?" His voice was as angry as earlier.

Galamoth had heard the term used many times to refer to the other entities in this "hell", and he understood that the term would be used to refer to himself as well. However, he clearly did not understand something important, so he decided it was in his best interest to shake his head.

"It continues to baffle me how you could possess so little knowledge and yet lead such an effective offense against me and my master. Listen to me, and listen well. And I know you can understand me, so do not pretend otherwise.

"You are not a living creature. None of us are. You most certainly possessed life before you started your war against us, but this is no longer true.

"You do not need to breathe. You do not get hungry or thirsty. You do not require rest. Only living beings suffer from these afflictions."

Galamoth opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off immediately.

"That was not hunger. That was a desire for food. A want, not a need. And if you wish to continue to exist, you will quickly learn to forget such things."

At this point, the entity paused, considering his words. "It is true that some demons retain an interest in such activities. However, these are merely luxuries. You will find that you have very few actual needs and that your desires are frequently unfulfilled. You must endure nonetheless."

Galamoth started to wonder how many times the demon had delivered this exact speech in the past. It sounded rehearsed.

"Most importantly, demons do not die. If we had left your meal in there, he would have suffered for eternity in your stomach. This is unacceptable. I keep a very close count on my minions, and I expect all of them to be in good condition for when I need them."

So this entity was the leader of the demons. Galamoth did not know this.

"Why do you need us?"

The entity stopped suddenly. "You do not even know who I am, do you?"

Once again, another headshake.

The entity silently stared at him with the vacuous eyes of his skull. For a few seconds, Galamoth started to feel more uncomfortable than usual. Then the entity spoke again.

"I believe I have determined your problem. In light of Dracula's orders, there is a clear solution. Come with me."

The two headed back in the direction of the main room. As they passed through the crowd of demons, they continued to watch Galamoth with worried expressions. Some commented to each other in whispered tones that he was going to be eliminated. He was starting to believe that this was the case as well.

Eventually the entity led Galamoth down another passage. He was starting to wonder how many passages branched off from the main room, but before he got too far along those lines, they arrived in a large room that was lined with wooden structures.

The cloaked entity floated directly to one of the structures and removed a package from its resting place several feet from the ground. He then returned to Galamoth's side, holding the package up so that the reptile could see it.

In large golden letters, the front of the package read "THANATOS". Galamoth remembered a golem using that name earlier to refer to a lord, as did the goat...

"You are Thanatos?" he guessed.

The entity did not avert his gaze. "You are not nearly as unintelligent as some have surmised. Still, you are clearly uneducated."

This said, he set the package down on the ground, then gripped one of the edges and lifted it. Galamoth noted that the package actually consisted of a series of pieces of thin white material with letters printed on them.

Galamoth had done a large amount of reading while he conducted research on this planet, but he was using computers to access databases of information that other civilizations had compiled. Earth, though, was not at a stage of development to have such devices. Thus, Galamoth concluded, this must be their chosen method of recording and storing the written word. The goat had used something similar earlier, after all.

Thanatos turned and headed for the exit. "I suggest that you become educated as quickly as possible."

Galamoth looked down at the text in front of him. Despite its small size, his eyes could make out the writing clearly, and one finger would suffice to turn the pieces of material over.

There were thousands of these packages in this room. He would not be finishing his task any time soon.

Still, he considered, at least he had something to do now.