Hellohellohello, this is the lovely Kyru updating again, after *checks* approximately a year and a half of not doing so! Splee! What inspired me to do so was one person adding this to their Story Alert, and one person adding it to their Favorite Story list! So a special thank you to Sayomi Mayako and neverlife! *waves and throws confetti at them* Anway, shall we continue?

Chapter 4: A Confrontation with Julius Caesar

"So, where are we going, Gregory?" Voldy asked as the floated down the hall.

"You're meeting with your sect master to discuss your acts of penance. Consider it your initiation into Hell." Gregory replied, keeping his eyes to the path in front of them.

Great, Voldy thought. Just where I want to be.

Gregory glanced at him. "Surely you concede you deserve it."

Voldy wasn't even surprised at Gregory's response to his thought. Nothing really surprised him anymore. "I'll never concede! Never!!"

"Woah, what's with the sudden passion?" Gregory said, cocking an eyebrow.

"I don't like to admit when I'm wrong," Voldy mumbled.

"Nobody does. But I'm not saying that to cheer you up, just so you know. I'm just doing it so you don't think you're special."

"But I am special! I'm Lord Voldemort!" Voldy whined. He stopped himself suddenly. He was not going to adopt annoying habits in death.

"Oh, you don't you have to worry about that. You've already adopted annoying habits." Gregory answered.

"Really; they seem to have rubbed off on you," Voldy growled.

They bickered all the way down the hall, but stopped when they got to a large marble door labeled "Sect Captain". There was no window to the inside, so you couldn't see what was going on. Voldy didn't like that. He liked to know everything, and if that meant only using doors that had panes of glass in them just so you could see who was other side, so be it. (He had been teased for this philosophy in the orphanage, got the nickname "Peeping Tom" because of it, and learned not to speak of his opinions so openly.) He hesitated.

Gregory hovered by the knob and folded his arms over his tiny chest impatiently. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

"I... I can't open that door."

"Why?"

"It's against one of my personal philosophies."

"And what is that?"

"I'd... rather not say."

Gregory rolled his eyes. "I can't wait for the next eternity. If you insist." He turned the knob.

It was a lavishly decorated chamber, but of course in the Roman style. Lounging on the couch was a big bear of a man wearing a toga on his body, sandals on his feet, and a scowl on his face. "Did I command you to enter?" he boomed.

Voldy, who was not easily intimidated, was intimidated. He hissed to Gregory, "Great, you ticked him off. Is this Julius Caesar?"

"Your sect master, yes."

"Didn't you tell me I didn't want to come across him?"

Gregory smirked. "Yes, but I didn't mention that you have to. Enjoy your meeting," With that, he floated out the door, which slammed ominously behind him.

Voldy turned to face Caesar, who had now gotten to his feet. For an annoying thing, he had wished Gregory had stayed with him in the presence of this man.

"No matter. We must discuss your penance. For each sin in your life, you must complete tasks for the Devil. This includes pressing his clothes, writing his memos, fetching him miscellaneous objects that he can't be bothered to get himself--"

"Wait... no torture? No burning for all eternity? No being thrown into the fires of, well, Hell?" Voldy interrupted.

Caesar glared at him, irritated at being cut off. "This is a business, specter, not a jail. The Devil is the proverbial CEO, and you and all the other misfits are his workers. Actually, more like slaves. The divine entities that are not of the Earth have important things to do, too. The humans are horribly misguided. There is no play in Heaven, no torture in Hell. There is only work. Aside from Limbo, they were mostly about that; nothing happens there," he added as an afterthought.

"A... business? Like... like Muggle companies?"

"What... we are not these muddles you speak of. Yes, a business. Work must be done, negotiations made. The Devil can't be bothered to do all the little tasks the humans do themselves when they are home from work. There is always work for the Devil; it is on a much larger scale than human careers. That's why the likes of you do it for him."

It was too much to get his head around. All this time he thought that he would be tortured... and now, he is told he is to work?

"Here," Caesar said, handing him a leaflet. "This is your penance schedule for the next week. You'll have today to get accustomed, but tomorrow you will work. I expect to see you at your work station at eight o'clock sharp tomorrow morning. My regiment has a reputation for being prompt."

"Yes, er, thank you," Voldy said confusedly. He took the leaflet and backed out the door, or at least, he tried to; he forgot that it had closed when Gregory went out. After making a fool of himself when he slammed his backside into the hard marble, he grabbed the knob and lurched out.

Gregory was waiting for him in the hall. "Meeting go well? Did he try to recruit you into his army?"

"Er, no, but he said a lot of confusing things and called his sect his "regiment","

Gregory sighed. "He does that. Well, seeing as you seem to be prone to being confused, let me clarify whatever he said. Go on, then."

"First of all, what do you mean by 'sect master'?" Voldy asked as they floated back down the hall.

"Each spirit that goes into Hell is split up into divisions, called sects, depending on what kind of sins they committed in life. A sect master is a spirit (or, in the cases of the higher up sects, demon of Hell), usually a prominent person in their life, that went down to Hell and was so well-known for their sins that they became the head of their sect. Julius Caesar's sect is known for its bloody violence, obsession with power, and usually the deaths of large numbers of people on their hands. Fitting, isn't it?"

"Actually, yes," Voldy said, pleased that he had made such a name for himself even in death. There we go; the evil thoughts are coming back. "So the sects are like... are like divisions of companies?"

"Companies?" Gregory raised his eyebrows at the analogy.

"Well, Caesar said that Heaven and Hell weren't really what the Muggles made them to be; they're more like businesses, aren't they?"

"Actually, yes," Gregory echoed Voldy, pleased for once that he was starting to make his own connections. "Speaking of which, what's your penance schedule look like?"

Voldy looked for the first time at the leaflet he held in his hand. It had "Penance Schedule" in bold type at the top, and below that, an organized list of jobs for the coming week. "My first job is to "Stamp Memos" at 8:00 tomorrow."

"Ah. Yes. Make sure you're on time and presentable. This is a business, after all, and the Devil prides himself in immaculate work. It's a competition between Heaven and Hell. Basically fighting over Earth. In my opinion," Gregory lowered his voice, "if they've been fighting this long, shouldn't they take it as the unachievable and just truce over a couple of drinks? I mean, nobody really told them that Earth was the prize they were fighting over; their jobs are only to take care of the dead that come off of Earth, so why...?"

Gregory continued to ramble on, but Voldy wasn't really listening. He was looking down at his penance schedule. It was a crisp piece of paper; white with serious black font, 12 point, traditional Times New Roman. Whoever ordered this to be printed meant business. Voldy admired someone who had complete control over the mass he was commanding.

With the prospect of no torture after all, he was beginning to think he might like Hell.

A/N:)) Well! I liked writing this chapter. Expect another one soon! Reviews = love!