Money is the Root of All Evil

"What do you mean they're dead?! I had thirteen souls worth of assets invested in them!"

"Our company's algorithm listed them as a low-risk client, but these things still happen."

…

"I'll fucking kill you, I'll burn this fucking building to the ground-"

"Security! Security!"

…

"You think you can fuck with me?! I know you have my money, give me my fucking money you fish-fuckingzggzgzgzgggz."

"Thank you, Craig, please throw them out front. I'll remind Francine to increase the budget for your tazers."

…

Montgomery Edward Marquet, was having a shitty day. Some might proffer that since this was hell, a shitty day by Earth standards would in fact be quite a great day down there.

Montgomery didn't think he'd agree. First, because he was a Hellborn and had therefore no reference point for a shitty day on Earth, and second, because it truly was a shitty day.

Yesterday, was extermination day, which in itself was already a reason for him to be feeling down despite being a Hellborn. However, more importantly, a couple of big name Overlords had died, meaning that clients were up the firm, and by extension his ass, about their investments.

Hiding out in the bathroom until he had to face his next client, Montgomery stared into the mirror and his reflection stared back.

A small bandage laid across his forehead from where a bullet had grazed him from a client who was particularly emphatic about their displeasure. He'd been given an hour off work to get it bandaged before he was ordered to come back in.

His black and purple hair, which actually were the frills of an Envy demon, was swept back in what a Sinner had once called a Wolf-of-Wall-Street manner. The black shading around his eyes was a touch thinner than the average Envy demon, though it flared out on the outer edges in a distinctly ostentatious manner, reminiscent of the few pharaoh Sinners still alive.

Something that he claimed to despise, but a small part of him loved the touch of pizzazz to his otherwise lackluster appearance.

He was 5'8" on a good day since his frills would stand higher up, so today he was 5'7". He was a healthy weight with a good amount of strength in his frame and a small bit of fat in his stomach. He wouldn't be winning any wrestling matches with hellhounds, but compared to the average he was fairly in shape with his arms sitting just short of what a person might call broad-shouldered.

Though, that really didn't help things much when it came to being a financial advisor in Hell. There, all that really mattered was how well you could get demons to give you their hard earned or hard looted cash.

His clothes consisted of a deep purple button up with a grey vest. Meanwhile his lower half was of matching gray pants and deep brown leather shoes. Finally, his right eye was partially covered by a brass rimmed and purple tinted monocle, though it did little to cover the scar running across his eyelid and an inch down his cheek.

"It's just another day." The Envy demon lied to himself as he splashed a bit of water on his face and took a deep breath. He wiped off the water from his face with a towel and made sure to straighten the errant wrinkles in his clothing and frills on his head.

Walking back over to his office, Montgomery ignored his boss' shouting, "Mon! I go through all the trouble of getting you one of the new clients and you decide to jerk off in the bathroom for half-an-hour?"

"I was in there for five minutes, Francine." Montgomery, or Mon as everyone called him, pointed to his pocket watch sitting on a golden chain leading into his suit pocket.

Stepping into his office, Mon sat down at his desk and idly adjusted the way that his nameplate, 'Mon E. Marquet' sat on his desk as he pressed the intercom button and spoke, "Riley, can you let the next client in please?"

"Yes, Mr. Marquet." A boyish voice answered, belonging to some imp intern.

There's a knock at his door a moment later and a young imp opened it as a woman stepped past him and into Mon's office.

Mon suddenly understood why his boss had such a stick up her ass about this particular client.

Verosika Mayday looked every bit as she did on tv as she chewed a piece of bubblegum as she idly looked around Mon's office.

Quickly standing up, Mon walked around the desk and pulled out a chair for her with a smile, "Ms. Mayday, a pleasure to meet you. Please, have a seat."

Mon held out his hand to shake, and despite her aloof looks so far, Verosika met him halfway and gave him a firm handshake.

Mon was about to start heading back around the other side of his desk to sit down, but stopped when he realized the boy from earlier was still standing awestruck in the doorway.

Rolling his eyes, Mon walked over and shut the door before walking back over to his desk and sitting down, "My apologies Ms. Mayday, some people aren't quite used to the stature of clients that we typically see to, people such as yourself."

Verosika frowned slightly and took off her shades to give Mon a slow look, "Are you going to do this ass-kissing Olympics the whole time?"

Mon sighed slightly and dropped the act, his face becoming flat, "Being a sycophant is company policy I'm afraid, but I can try and tone it down if you'd prefer."

Verosika nodded with a shrug, clearly wanting to get this chore over and done with, "Just call me Verosika."

"Thank you, Verosika, I'm Montgomery Edwards Marquet, but you can call me Mon, what brings you into Mammon's Money Managers today?" Mon began as he pulled up a new client document on his computer.

Verosika groaned and rubbed the bridge of her nose, "Two months ago, my ex-boyfriend went and pissed away all my accounts to pay for shitty horse-riding lessons. I've been able to pay off the overdraft fees and other bullshit, but I don't want anything like that happening again."

Mon nodded imperceptibly slowly at that before speaking rhetorically, "I have a feeling you'd prefer I didn't do anything with sympathy and just got straight into the business of it, yes?"

"I'd rather put my hands in a blender." Verosika answered dourly.

"Alright, well, there's a couple of ways we can do things like that. Number one, we can require a phone confirmation for any purchases with a credit or debit card, which is something that you can do here or at whatever bank you use." Mon began, giving a pause after every option.

"Yeah, do that one." Verosika nodded as she tossed her phone onto the table.

"Number two, we can diversify some of your wealth into accounts that are not so easily liquidated and can help grow your portfolio." Mon continued.

Verosika rose a brow at that, "Wouldn't that make it hard for me to spend it too?"

"Yes, but this would typically be for any money beyond what you would reasonably need in a standard bank account. All this money could be invested into stocks, certificates of deposit, bonds, mutual funds, and souls." Mon explained, with an odd level of passion for the topic.

"I thought Hellborn couldn't own souls." Verosika with a frown of confusion.

"Yes, Hellborn indeed can't physically own souls, but you can still invest in them through our services since we have specific loans for purchasing souls." Mon clarified, only for her to appear even more lost.

"Here, allow me to give you an example. If there is some Sinner in Pride who believes that they are the next big overlord and can prove that to our asset inspectors, then we will give them a loan of cash that they can then use to buy souls in order to gain power. This is done with the hope that they will then be strong enough to gain souls through their own means and pay off the loan with interest." Mon gestured occasionally with his hands as he spoke.5

"Technically, you never truly own any souls, but through proxy members of our firm they are held in your name." Mon finished with a nearly invisible smile before transitioning, "Like any other investment, we have portfolios on each up-and-coming overlord so you can decide where you'd like your money to go. Would you like to take a look?"

Verosika shook her head, "Uh, no, I'm good. You can pick one out, right?"

"Yes, that's part of our services, did you have any preferences?" Mon asked as he scribbled down some notes.

"Anyone that isn't a complete fucking moron. Maybe someone in entertainment. I guess I'll do a couple of the other things you mentioned as well." Verosika answered with a shrug as she picked up her phone from Mon's desk after he set up the new security measures on it.

"Great, once you determine how much money you wish to set aside, or we can set that up for you, I'll go ahead and start doing that part." Mon said calmer, since things seemed to have gone well, "Should I assume that you'll be having a sudden influx of cash in the near future when planning out your portfolio?"

"Oh, you've been watching my tour schedule then, huh?" Verosika said with no small amount of pride as she opened up a flask and sipped out an iridescent golden liquid.

Mon shook his head slightly embarrassed, but not showing it very much, "No, I don't have much time to dabble in such research."

Verosika laughed slightly at that before asking him, "What the fuck are you talking about then?"

"I mean with respect to the lawsuit." Mon explained glibly.

"What lawsuit?" Verosika asked annoyedly as her tongue flickered across one of her incisors.

"The lawsuit to get just compensation from your ex-boyfriend." Mon offered with a wave of his hand as he began reaching under his desk for various files on stock options for her to take a look at.

Verosika stopped still at that, and looked at him slowly, "I can do that?"

Mon stopped his movements and turned to her, still slightly slunched over in his chair, "Were you not planning on doing so?"

"I didn't know I could." Verosika said with raw confusion.

"Oh, well, I suppose that's fair." Mon considered after a moment, "I see the reason for the assumption since it's usually only the higher ranking demons in court, but yes you can sue him for this, which should be easier if the criminal proceedings go well."

"Criminal… You mean like jail." Verosika said with shock.

"Prison technically, but I'm realizing now that you probably haven't even reported this thing yet." Mon said as he took a breath and ran through some thoughts in his mind, "Alright, why don't you take this from the top."

"Uh, yeah, sure whatever. My ex suddenly bailed on me and stole my car and my wallet and spent all my money on stupid fucking horse-riding lessons. We'd been pretty serious for a while there, so I stupidly gave that jackass permission to use my savings on stuff." Verosika explained, her tone slightly less sour than when they began their conversation, but still bittered.

Mon began taking notes, "Okay, I have a number of questions, but first things first. It may not be advertised that well, but even us lower-ranking Hellborn can take crimes to court, or else things would've fallen into disarray centuries ago. It's bitch-and-a-half harder for us than the Goetia's or even someone who is sponsored by one of the Sins, but it's possible. I have questions about how no one has told you this before, but that's not important at the moment."

Verosika looked like she had questions, but Mon was on a roll now and continued speaking, "You'd have two separate trials ever since Lucifer and the other Sins adopted some of the more modern legal proceedings from Earth. One would be civil which would deal with you suing for the damages that he caused, while the other would be criminal and could result in time served. You can decide which one you'd like to do first, as based on the decision the latter could then have a better chance of harsher punishment or a greater compensation-"

"Hold! Just, fucking wait a sec!" Verosika suddenly shouted as she held up her hands.

"Oh, uh, my apologies, Ms. May-" Mon began before being cut-off once more.

"Verosika, just say Verosika." Verosika corrected him as she looked at the paper he'd been writing notes on before seemingly giving up when she didn't understand it, "Just, give me a sec to think."

"Of course, Verosika." Mon acquiesced as he sorted a couple of documents back into place.

Verosika hummed for a second before nodding to herself and pointing to him, "How much do you cost?"

"Pardon?" Mon leaned forward to hear her better.

"I want to hire you, how much do you cost?" Verosika repeated firmly.

"Well, uh, I'm flattered truly, but financial advisors like myself typically cork on a percentage commission format for personal clients…" Mon trailed off with a frown, "You are not thinking of using me for legal representation are you?"

"If you're asking if I'm making you my lawyer, I am." Verosika answered as she stood up and began packing her things away, "Lawyer, money guy, and manager maybe as well. You have my number, so just send me the price and I'll give you the address."

"I'm not an actual lawyer, I just had some free time to read about it." Mon tried to explain, only for Verosika to shrug at that, "Alright then, keep reading I guess, I don't fucking know."

"Wait, why are you offering this so suddenly, I barely know you." Mon tried to argue, but Verosika didn't seem to care.

"We're in Hell, people are assholes, but you seem like slightly less of a piece of shit than everyone else. And, you told me how I could get back at my ex, so, yeah." Verosika seemed to be hesitating on something else to say before shaking her head and sending him a smirk as she opened the door.

The door closed behind her as Mon sat down at his desk in shock. He was twenty-eight and had been working here for the past six years after graduating from one of the few colleges that existed in Hell.

His job, by Earth's standards was pretty shitty when it came to pay and hours, but by Hell's status was middle of the road. Yet, he knew that he'd probably end up stabbing his boss with her fucking stilettos if he had to stay here for decades on end. Besides, maybe travel would be able to help him with his other goal.

Slowly, Mon grabbed a framed photograph from his desk and slid it closer to him. There, a familiar boy was being held aloft between two similar looking Hellborn, "You two said follow my dreams, I guess music was one of them too, huh?"

Unlocking his phone, Mon sent a text to the number pulled up on his computer screen. He didn't really think Verosika would actually remember based on how buzzed she was, but he decided to put down his dream-value offer for the joke of it: [5% management fee, $45 wage, automatically adjusted for inflation every 2 years.]

Mon went to set his phone back down, but stopped when he immediately got a reply in the form of an address.

"Huh." Mon eloquently stated as he heard his boss throw a hissy fit at one of the interns.

…

Arriving at the address after taking the elevator down from Pride to Lust, Mon frowned when he realized he was standing at a bus stop. Sighing with despondence, Mon neutrally remarked, "Oh, what a fantastic prank."

Mon was about to start the journey back to Pride when the sound of screeching tires stopped him.

Turning around, Mon came face-to-face with the open doors of a tour boss with Verosika's name emblazoned across the side of it.

"What up, Mon!" Verosika called out as she stood at the top of the stairwell of the bus.

"I didn't realize you were taking me on tour with you." Mon stated with a slight twinge of panic, "I have my work materials with me, but nothing else I'd nee-"

Verosika yanked him up onto the bus at which point Mon realized that she was far more inebriated than she was the day prior, "Verosika, I have some of the financials for you to look at."

"Later." Verosika said with a smile as she pulled him further into the bus, revealing couches lining the walls alongside a wet bar, and all the occupants, "Party people, let me introduce you to our new attendee! This is Mon, and he is going to help me sue my shithead ex so I can get all his money and have him get FUCKED in prison!"

Mon went to speak, but stopped as everyone else on the bus shouted with joy. Stopping for a moment, Mon allowed himself a moment to steady his mind as he felt himself get pulled about. Part of his psyche was screaming at him to take charge, but the larger part knew better than to risk the possible benefits of this situation.

Verosika quickly went around the room introducing him to everyone, "This is Josh and Ace, they're dating, but open if you are interested."

Verosika gestured to the two tallest incubi in the room. They were sitting at the bar sipping cocktails and sent him a wave.

Then she came to a group of three succubae, one with a mocha afro, another with a loose blonde bun, and one that was barely five feet tall, "And this is Coco, Apple, and Milky. Coco and Apple are dating and open, but they are a bit more selective, and Milky here is single."

The trio smiled at him while Milky gave him a 'come-hither' gesture, "Mon? Anyone ever mention your name sounds like-"

"Yes." Mon firmly answered with a slight downturn of his lips.

Soon after, Verosika thankfully pulled him a bit further along until they came to an especially skinny pair of an incubus and succubus. The former sat with a black hair styled straight out of the 2000s and the latter leaned against a wall with long sweeping hair with a grayish-blue tinge to it, "These are the twins Kat and Kiki, no they are not fucking, and I'd warn you not to make jokes about it as well."

Kat offered him a fist-bump while Kiki reached forward as if to shake his hand. However, upon grabbing it, she turned it over and gently kissed his wrist.

Mon's stoic features remained true, though a slight bluish tinge appeared on his greyish-green skin.

Verosika finally brought him to the back of the bus, where a large hellhound was lying asleep on a pullout mattress.

"Vortex!" Verosika called out with a drunken shout, "Up and at 'em!"

The hellhound blinked his eyes open to see Mon and Verosika standing there, "Shit, sorry boss, was out late making sure the security was set-up at our next venue."

The man stood up and Mon felt the whole bus shift as he leaned back and stretched before smiling down at him and offering a hand, "Vortex, but everyone calls me Tex, you must be the accountant that Verosika was telling me about."

Mon sighed and accepted the hand, "I suppose I am, apparently I've been promoted to quite a number of roles."

"Yeah, boss-lady likes to get us involved in every part of the gig." Vortex said with a fond smile as they shook hands.

"Yep, which is why you two are going to talk! I need my bodyguard here, not two rings down in Sloth. So, you two are going to share the load on that junk." Verosika declared as she marched up to the front of the bus as it began moving.

"You good man?" Vortex suddenly spoke, causing Mon to turn and face him, "She can be a bit intense when she drinks, but thankfully it was a celebratory one last night."

"I see, thank you for the heads-up." Mon offered as Vortex lifted the pull-out mattress back into a couch and sat down on it. "Though," Mon continued, "it appeared that she had been drinking the day before as well."

"Uh… Yeah," Vortex admitted, "She's technically supposed to still be in rehab, but she was able to talk her way out. I don't know the details cause she didn't tell me, though I did hear that this tour was part of it."

"I suppose that this can't be any worse than my previous manager's cocaine habit." Mon considered casually.

Vortex laughed and patted him on the back, "You're funny man, we're going to get along great."

Mon rose an unimpressed brow, "I don't know what was so amusing, but I won't turn down an offer of someone being a halfway decent coworker at this job."

Vortex merely laughed again as he patted the couch next to him and begin speaking, "Alright, well, it sounds like the boss didn't give you much of a breakdown on what exactly is going on, so if you got any questions, shoot."

Mon nodded tiredly as he sat down onto the couch and leaned back into it, "I presume that Verosika is going on tour then, correct?"

"Yep, one concert in every ring, and then one on Earth." Vortex let him know as he rolled his shoulders.

"Earth?" Mon asked in surprise.

"Yep, Verosika is making waves all over Hell and even got Asmodeus' attention. Now she's one of the Hellborns that he sends up to Earth to spread lust or do other business for him." Vortex said, a bit of pride leaking into his voice.

Mon, sat shell-shocked at that reveal. He'd be going to Earth… After all these years, he'd actually see Earth in person.

"Here," Vortex said as he tossed a shirt over to him, "It's one of the tour shirts we'll be selling, it's got all of the dates on the back."

"Am I about to be informed that merchandise sales are under my purview as well?" Mon asked dryly.

Vortex chuckled once more, "Nah, that's part of the twin's responsibility. Here, uh, let me give you the rundown, man. Josh and Coco do most of the social media for the group: Advertising concerts, keeping up with trends, drummin'-up hype, talking with record labels, that sort of thing. Ace and Milky do most of the roadie work, though I pitch in from time to time with the heavier stuff, but they're the only ones that actually know that equipment that well."

Vortex took a drink from a canteen as he pointed to the twins, "I already told you about the twins, but they do a lot of the merchandising and fashion for the group. Speaking of which, you should probably talk to them soon about updating your outfit. Don't get me wrong, I dig your digs, but they definitely aren't rock-tour ready, you feel?"

Mon sighed, just rolling with the punches at this point, but said firmly, "Nothing more revealing than a short-sleeve shirt."

"No problem, man, the twins can work their magic on anyone. I don't know why you want to cover up so much, you aren't a bad looking dude, but that's your story, not mine." Vortex, Mon was quickly realizing, was quite the chatter-box.

"Then, we got Apple, who does most of the clean-up on songs to be released for albums and steps in for some of the high parts in songs when Boss is voice is fucked up." Vortex hummed for a moment, thinking, "Oh, and I guess there's also me, I do a lot of the set-up and security for concerts. That reminds me, can you sing?"

"I beg your pardon?" Mon was really starting to lose his patience with all the surprises coming of this job.

"Right, I mean, boss-lady does most of the songs, but she'll have us step in for background vocals occasionally when she feels like a song needs it. I mean, most of us play instruments as well for helping her with her songs, but the main one is singing." Vortex explained as he pointed to a guitar case in a corner with wolf fangs decaled on it.

Mon was about to deny an answer, but stopped when Vortex' head turned to point to the guitar case. With that motion, Vortex' left eye came into view, an eye that was a pure milky white and shadowed by a scar crossing over it.

"Piano." Mon answered after a few moments, "But I do not sing."

Vortex went to respond, but stopped and placed one leg over the other, "You good man, you seem a little, tensed."

"This is certainly far more chaotic than I was expecting it to be." Mon answered with slight terseness.

"Yeah, it's a rollercoaster, but you'll get used to it. Took me a little bit too, but I was kind of sheltered you know." Vortex said with the confidence of someone who had long overcome some embarrassment related to it.

"I… I actually do know." Mon agreed, letting himself take a breather, "My parents…" Mon trailed off and gave Vortex a dubious look, "How the fuck did you do that?"

Even though Mon hadn't said what he was referring to, Vortex clearly knew what he was talking about, he laughed and proudly answered, "I've always been good at getting people to open up. My old man said it's because I talk so much that everyone else tries talking too so that I shut up."

Mon consciously stopped himself from talking when he realized that he was about to speak again. Taking a moment, he formulated a response, "We should probably go over the first concert venue and organizing all of that, right?"

Vortex took the change of subject for what it was and nodded, "Yeah man, sure thing. First one is going to be in Dreamsville city in Sloth, but we got about a week before we make that trip. We're heading back to the studio for now."

"Why are we in a tour bus then?" Mon asked, feeling like he already knew the answer.

"Boss got it as a gift from a friend when they heard about the whole ex thing, so she's been using it for whatever excuse she can. Not like the rest of us are complaining though." Vortex bumped Mon on the shoulder with a joking smile, causing Mon's monocle to fall from his eye and hang by his lapel.

'This was a mistake.' Mon realized internally.

"This is gonna be GREAT!" Verosika shouted as she downed another flask of Beelzejuice.

…

…

…

A hunched figure stole through the alleyways of Pride, a stolen sheet covering their form as they gazed around.

"What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck?" The soul repeated his hushed mantra as he continued his journey. Occasionally he had to duck down behind a bin whenever someone or something passed by. Especially when one of the flying ones swooped through the city, their black masks glowing with a sickeningly bright white light.

'Use your techniques, use your techniques.' The soul advised himself internally, 'Breath in for five… … … Hold for five … … … Exhale for five … … …'

An explosion rocked a nearby block and the soul ducked for cover once again as the sound of screams filled the air, 'Think back, think clearly, you just fell from the fucking sky and lived. What could possibly-"

The soul gave out a grunt of surprise as the air left his lungs and he impacted a solid surface. He had thought he'd been ducking into shadows, but suddenly he'd made contact with something.

Looking up slowly, the soul felt himself on the verge of fainting as a glowing green face pierced through the darkness and an incredibly tall individual was revealed. A black cloak covered the figure leading up to the eerie green glowing face and black stove hat.

The soul froze in petrified horror and stuttered out a response, "Uh..uhhhh…hhuh… I'm v-very sorry for bumping into you, Sir. I-I'll be on my way."

The soul turned slowly, keeping an eye over his shoulder as he did his best to leave without moving to quickly.

"Halt thy proceedings, familiar strang'r, quite the paradox thou art." The man ordered with a haunting to his voice.

The soul stopped in terror and turned back to face the cloaked figure as they slowly leaned down and peered forward into his eyes.

The stooped figure was only a few inches from his face as he spoke, "Thou art quite peculiar in thy visage. Liketh to a wint'rs frost, thou art new yet mirr'r'd by seasons past. Has't we traded w'rds bef're? I wilt confesseth yond despite mine own predilection f'r steadfast mem'ry thy nameth escapes me this hour."

"Are you quoting Shakespeare?" The soul couldn't help but ask.

"Nay, I am inquiring if 't be true thou art known to me 'r if 't be true I am known to thee." The entity explained as he slinked through shadows and circled around the shorter soul.

"I don't know you, Sir. Look, uhm, I think I might be lost, could you point me to Miami, and I'll be on my way." The soul inched away whenever the man came close. Deep down, he knew that Miami was not in the cards, but part of him still asked.

"How intriguing, what chance, what f'rtunate misf'rtune! a green arrival in the bowels of the inf'rnal, thou art ev'r m're ent'rtaining to the eye of mine own mind." The man's ghoul-like voice filled the alleyway, a sense of humor could be felt in his tone.

"Okay, uhm, how about we start from the top, I'm Graham, and you are… Sorry, I mean: And thou art?" The soul tried desperately to keep on the man's good side.

"Zestial." The man claimed as he dramatically shifted about, "Tis f'rtuitous fate f'r our souls to crosseth paths this m'rn, and an auspicious opp'rtunity f'r m'rrow. Cometh shareth pleasantries with me once the lands has't ingratiat'd themselves to thee, I feeleth the urge to mimic the eff'rts of the less'r to showcase true greatness, coequal if 't be true just f'r passion's sake. A token of wisdom, the denizens of this landeth doth not useth the nameth christen'd to those folk by the creat'r, thee'd doth well to doth the same. But f'r anon, welcometh to the inf'rno."

With that the man slinked back into the shadows as a tendril of darkness suddenly latched onto Graham and spun him around before releasing him. When he finally could stand straight, the Brcye noticed that he was now garbed anew.

He was wrapped in silken garments of a brown jerkin doublet with a white plume shirt underneath and a pair of black trousers on his lower half. More specifically though, across his heart was a pin of a spider.

It was as Graham was inspecting his clothing that he was forced to refocus on the changes to himself that he had noticed earlier but forced to the back of his mind until now.

His hands were a mix of green sprigs and wires wrapped around a visible skeleton of pipe and roots. Desperately he clawed up his sleeves to see that the transformation ended just after his elbows, though the occasional leaf or resister appeared on the skin of his shoulder. Even then, he realized his body had taken on a sickly green hue.

His legs were checked next, and he soon realized why he hadn't yet stepped on one of the many needles that littered the alleyways. His feet were of a darker root than his forearms and were littered with lavender, orange, and green bioluminescent mushrooms, though once again the new form thankfully ended just past the main joint with his knees.

Taking a breath to try and calm himself, Graham ran a hand through his hair.

He ran a hand through his hair.

He ran a hand through his hair…

A nearby puddle was moved towards as Graham stared down at his reflection. Eyes like smoldering coals stared back at him as he took in his new face.

His hair was anything but that and instead consisted of large fronds of orange- and lime-colored leaves, semiconductor wafers, and circuit boards, that draped over his head imitation of hair. Between the layers that sat in a rough mop at the moment, various small lavender and magenta flowers budded into hydrangeas.

All this paled in comparison to the two shoots of black lupin flower that emerged from his head like horns and seemed to emanate smoke and ash from their buds.

Graham subconsciously reached a hand up to touch the new horns but jumped back in fear when he surprised himself with the reflection of his own hand.

Opening the front of the jacket he'd been bestowed by Zestial, Graham spied an ominous glow coming from where his heart was, or at least where he hoped it was.

Popping open the buttons on the white shirt, Graham saw that most of his chest was translucent. Beneath the green tinted skin, his lungs, ribs, and even his heart could be seen. The lungs looked like a mix of human flesh and biomechanical hospital pumps, while his ribs were made of a familiar root and metal material.

Finally, there was his heart. An amber orb replaced the standard organ, and within it burned a putrid mix of oil, blood, and toxins that the roots seemed to feed upon.

Graham kneeled over and tried to hurl but screamed in pain instead. Soon after came a deluge of noxious smoke, fire, and tar that vomited from his mouth in an agonizing cacophony that had acidic tears spring into his eyes and sear at his face.

Wiping the few remnants from his mouth with the corner of his sleeve, Graham haphazardly rebuttoned the shirt so that he no longer had to look at it.

Desperation pulled him from the alleyway, only furthered by the sound of a gong cracking out through the city. Blood and gore filled the streets in the shape of what Graham believed looked like monsters.

'What the fuck is going on?' Graham asked himself as he finally noticed other people about. Many of them seemed to emerge from inside buildings, alleyways, or even sewers below ground.

While there was an aura of trepidation about, there was an odd acceptance to it as well as most of the other monsters around him seemed to just go on with their lives. Graham even saw one of them start feasting on the body of another monster.

Slowly, he came up upon one of them that seemed to be the closest to a human and only had two sets of horns on their head and an ice-like texture to their hair, "E-Excuse me."

"The fuck you looking at?" The voice growled up at him.

"Could you tell me where I am?" Graham tried gently.

"Fucking meth head, you're in the inner city, jackass." The man insulted him with a contemptuous snarl.

"What city, though? What state?" Graham pressed further.

The man looked like he was about to bite off another snarky comment before his eyes widened and he began to laugh, "Bwahahaha! Ahaha! Hey Eeli, come take a look at this. This fuck just fell right after the exterminations, dude looks like he's gonna piss himself."

A nearby three headed snake-like demon turned all its heads at the call and began to laugh in a hissing manner.

Running away, Graham turned a corner before bumping into someone for the second time that day.

"Ugh, dammit, watch where you're fucking going asshole!" The lady he bumped into shouted at him as she rubbed her head.

Graham quickly got up and helped her up as well before his eyes widened in shock, "Mrs. Mayberry?"

The lady before him, covered in purple skin that continued to a set of horns, a tail, and hooves was garbed in a red blouse and torn black pencil skirt, while red wire-frame glasses sat on the bridge of her nose.

Graham didn't know why he even thought of her in that moment, the monster before him while looking similar on a structural level was so far from the teacher from his memory.

Yet, something deep inside his mind -no, something deeper than his mind, something in his soul was shouting at him that he knew her.

The demon, for that's what Graham realized she was, looked at him with horrified eyes, "Little Galileo?"

Graham took a breath and started speaking rapid fire, "Oh thank God I found you. Mrs. Mayberry, what the hell is going on? What's happened to me? What's happened to you?"

Diane Mayberry looked like she was still processing the sight before her, but she quickly snapped out of it and grabbed Graham's hand, "Not here, Graham, come on."

She pulled him along and Graham moved to willingly follow as she navigated them through the clustered streets of the city.

Debauchery and mayhem of all kinds were around every corner.

"Yeah, she found out I was cheating through that stupid 21-and-me testing thing." A frog-like monster complained to another monster that had spikes all over it's body.

"It's 23-and-me for the number of chromosome pairs, dipshit. Actually, 21-in-me explains a lot, I always knew there was something fucked up with you on a genetic level." The spiked one sniped back at the frog one.

Soon they reached a building that Graham supposed looked passably like an apartment building. Darting inside, it was a few flights of stairs and halls later when Mrs. Mayberry grabbed a key from her skirt pocket and quickly unlatched the door and ushered him inside.

Making her way in behind him, his former elementary school teacher shut the door and deadbolted it twice.

Looking at him, she frowned sadly and suddenly grabbed him into a hug, "Oh, Little Galileo, what are you doing here? You shouldn't be down here, I'm so… angry."

"Mrs. Mayberry, what's going on? Where are we?" Graham asked as he sank into the hug.

"Well," Diane said with a sigh, "to start I guess I should tell you it's not Mrs. Mayberry anymore, its Diane Ravens, or just Raven down here. My husband cheated on me with some two-bit whore! So, it's my maiden name from now on, you hear?"

Graham nodded along as Diane automatically fell back into her teaching voice, "I'm sorry Ms. Ravens, you are such a great person, that's horrible of him to do that."

"Yeah, well, God didn't think the same." Ms. Ravens said with a sneer, before turning to him lightly, "Sweetheart, please don't think less of me, but I committed a crime of passion, I got angry and to put it simply I ended up down here."

Suddenly Diane seemed to become even angrier than usual, "Cause that's all it fucking takes! One fucking slip-up that's not your damn fault, but this is what I fucking get!"

Graham suddenly backstepped at her anger as her tail flipped back in forth irritably.

Diane seemed to realize that she had lost her cool and tempered her anger, "That's not what's important right now, Graham, what are you doing here? You shouldn't be here, you were a good kid, we got you that scholarship, what happened?"

"Where is here? Where are we?" Graham asked, but he knew the answer, he had known it for a good bit now.

"Were in Hell, with all the rapists and nazis and fuckwads of Earth." Ms. Ravens said with a tinge of exhaustion.

Graham fell to his knees as he finally heard it said aloud, "Hell, the afterlife is real…"

Graham felt everything, he felt relief that death wasn't the end, he felt fear for what was to come, ecstasy in knowing that the terrible people of the world would actually receive justice for their crimes, guilt knowing that he deserved to be down here as well.

Yet, most of all, he felt something more.

He felt comfortable, he felt in control, he felt the call of opportunity, and he didn't know why.

"This is terrible, you shouldn't be here." Ms. Ravens repeated as she kneeled down beside him and alternated between sobs of anguish and growls of indignation.

'Why does it feel like I'm supposed to be here?' Graham asked himself as he took a breath and suddenly felt more alive than he ever had before.

AN:

I know that in canon, Verosika's tour starts in Pride and goes down through all the rings of Hell, but it didn't really make sense to me why it would be organized that way and then go to Earth. I know that the Asmodean Crystals aren't affected by where you open the portal, but it still feels more natural to me to work up the rings of Hell and then go from Pride to Earth. Especially since Pride is where all of the former residents of Earth reside.

Either way, just a heads-up on why the tour schedule is different in this story.