Chapter 1: 1812 Overture
"Out on the sea, we'd be forgiven."
The nights in the Wrath Ring were dark. The only time they ever had moonlight was during the Harvest Moon Festival. Without that, the only thing to illuminate the dusty plains were occasional hellscape fires, and the volcanoes with their magma, pouring down streams and flowing off detached land. But those were sparse; a far cry from what the postcards might imply.
In short, there was minimal natural light, and a lot of red. Different from all the green smog in the Greed Ring. It would almost be off-putting if it weren't for the strangely pleasant experience of being out here in the plains, so far from anyone else.
Driving along the cracked pavement and intermittent dirt roads, it wasn't the same as being alone. In Greed, you could be alone all the time. But there was always someone nearby, in another room, down the street, or listening in on you. Here, there was no one for miles. It was secluded—you could do anything, and no one would know.
Jackie liked that. He was a tall, young imp, wearing square glasses and a black suit with a silver pin on the collar. He was only seventeen years old, and he'd never been outside the Greed Ring in his life.
He'd heard plenty about all the other rings, stories and rumors about cheap prostitutes in Lust, or the Sinners you'd meet in Pride, but not much of it meant anything to him. But if someone had told him that he could be so secluded that he could say whatever he wanted as loud as he wanted and no one would know, he'd have come here in a heartbeat. He didn't have anything to hide, but it was nice not having to look over his shoulders all the time.
If he ever got the chance, he'd honestly consider moving out here. Live out the rest of his life in a nice quiet place like this, unbothered by everyone else's problems.
Driving in the dark was serene to him. Headlights illuminating the old roads, surrounded by dirt, dust, and the occasional cactus. Just him, his car, and this bundle of crying nuisance wrapped up in the passenger seat.
A baby. Man, he hated babies. They were loud, demanding, and did nothing but cry and spit. Worse yet, you weren't supposed to smoke around them. He figured this drive was going to be unbearable, but this little squirt hadn't actually been that bad. It cried, oh it most certainly cried. But after the first hour or so of driving, it eventually got quiet. It'd been quiet for hours now, Jackie even checked on it a couple times to make sure it wasn't dead.
Even though his job was to make sure it was dead.
He was in the final stretch of the drive now, and he could see the faint lights of buildings in the distance. Los Satanio, the only sad excuse of a city in Wrath. Dumb name, dumber people…but they did have some qualities Jackie was fond of. If the stereotypes were true anyway, he'd only ever met a few Imps native to Wrath.
"You'll probably like it here, or at least not hate it." Jackie said, keeping his eyes glued to the city lights as he spoke. He wasn't sure why he was talking, it's not like the baby could understand him, or would even remember. Yet, saying something felt better than not. "I hear Wrath is big on family, a country folk kinda thing. You might have a better shot than I did."
The baby just looked at him in that weird absent-minded yet curious way that babies stare.
"Boss said to take care of you. Not like, babysit. Usually when he says to 'take care' of someone that usually involves a body bag," Jackie glanced at the infant, "I hope you don't plan on snitching about this. I'm doing you a favor, orphan to orphan."
The baby cooed. It was purely incidental, but it felt like a response.
"Yeah, that's right. I was an orphan too. It was more of a street rat type of deal. Not like you with Crimson killing your…uhm, nevermind that."
The baby giggled slightly now, not an ounce of understanding in its eyes. Such morbid timing.
They were getting close to the city now, streetlamps coming into view and illuminating the pavement. Jackie kept an eye out for a sign, or anything indicating an orphanage.
"I am serious though, about the adoption thing. Family actually means something around here," Jackie started again.
He wasn't sure why he felt so strongly about convincing this four-month-old runt about it. If anything, he figured he was thinking out loud, and just happened to have an audience.
"There's this couple, Joe and Lin. Just married, great pair really, used to be buddies with your mother. Helped me get here on such short notice when I told 'em why."
His gut dropped a little at saying that, only made worse by the fact he was pulling up to the orphanage now.
"I guess I might've been tuggin' at some heartstrings with 'em. They've got kids of their own, already decided on a name for their next one too. Mildred or Millerd, birth sex withstandin'. The little brats are lucky to have parents like that." Jackie muttered that last sentence as he parked the car, not even bothering to turn it off.
He was waiting, half-expecting a response of some kind. He knew they couldn't understand a word he was saying but he wanted to think they were listening. The baby just drooled a little.
"Good talk," Jackie sighed.
The front doors of the orphanage, that curb and the doorbell burning in his vision. Just leave the baby at the doorstep, let it be someone else's problem. That's all he had to do. Not even difficult in the slightest.
He got out of the car, grabbing the infant in his arm and holding him over his shoulder. He took the extra effort to keep the kid out of line of sight. He'd already put in enough effort to bring them here; he didn't need to start feeling guilty about leaving it alone. It's not his problem, and he was already going out of his way to not kill them in the first place.
He quickly made his way to the front door, put the baby down right in front of the torn-up mat, and immediately turned back to his car. He made sure not to look at the baby, not even for a second. He practically sprinted back into the driver's seat, forgetting to even buckle before he drove away. It wasn't until he was well out of the city that he realized he was holding his breath.
"Fuckin' hell," he wheezed out, finally relaxing his shoulders for the first time in what felt like forever. Was he supposed to feel good about himself now? He didn't. Didn't feel worse either.
Part of him wondered if he really should have just shot the kid and thrown it in a dumpster, but he was fairly certain that would have made him feel awful. It was a mystery to him how Crimson could kill his own wife, tell someone to kill his baby, and not feel a thing. Maybe he did feel something, probably not the right thing though. He was a sociopath, probably worse.
Jackie had no idea why he needed his approval so badly.
Whatever. It wasn't really his place to be questioning Crimson anyway, he made sure to stop that line of thought as quickly as he could. Right now, he was going to enjoy the quiet drive while it lasted. He opened the glove box, pulled out a small box of cigarettes and lighter, put one in his mouth and lit it up faster than he could blink.
That made him feel better.