Schools in Hell were not exactly organized and there was no proper administration to handle a dysfunctional mess of an education system. For all of its problems, some persevered through sheer rage and wallpaper. The demonic denizens of this realm were not entirely thrilled about sending children to schools but it was an absolute necessity for them to be an active part of a chaotic society. Plus, it was annoying for parents to have their ill-gotten paychecks be turned into drawing paper.

Imps did take up many roles; however, some of the slack had to be picked up by sinners. Yet, they were not often the best inspiration of an imp since it was rare to find instructors that were not child molesters or abusive adults enjoying the power they wielded over kids. There was a desire to improve this system and Mrs. Mayberry hoped she could be a shining example of this not only to the kids in her classrooms but also to their parents.

A tall and regal lady stood behind her desk and watched as a few select students solved their simple mathematics on the chalkboard. It was a way to inspire the other children to participate while also encouraging the unconcerned to pay attention. After all, it was embarrassing when they did not pay attention in class and ended up trying to work up the problems. The sinner stole a glance at the board to see her students finish solving the problems before they returned to their seats.

Mrs. Mayberry began to inspect their answers and at their accuracy. She turned towards the whole class with a smile on her face. "Good work on the problems, children. Take these examples to heart because they will be on the homework when you go home."

A small imp girl was sitting in the corner of the room had raised her hand.

"Ritza, what's the question?"

Adjusting her blue dress she was able to garner a response. "Mrs. Mayberry, why don't you do things like all the other teachers. They don't give us homework at all."

"Well dear," She began, hoping to formulate a decent response to a being born in Hell. Then she walked back and forth from one side of the room to another, "Unlike most teachers in this school, I care deeply for your minds as much as possible and try to help you become good individuals when you grow up."

A boy in the third row of desks on the right side of the room had left his remark. "My pa says that being good people is for Heaven worshipers."

The sinner realized she had to choose her words carefully next time. They were demons after all with all the expectations placed on their shoulders. "Maybe I was wrong about that? Well, I want you to become better people. How does that sound?"

"How is that supposed to help us?"

"Think of the future, kids," She answered gracefully as she walked towards the windows on the right side of the room and adjusted the few plants near her workspace, "One day you will have jobs or do something that requires your minds. This is what the homework will do if you study and work hard."

The room's peaceful atmosphere changed when the glass behind her was shattered and a bullet zipped past her head. Instinct took over the teacher as she ducked down fell to the floor before gunshots rang out and peppered the ceiling.

Her eyes looked over to the frightened children as she called them to safety. "Duck and cover, everyone!"

Imp children had heard her and began to hide underneath their desks while the shooting continued. She was absolutely angry by what was happening and that intense feeling of rage took over as Mayberry crawled to her desk and look at what her desk entailed. A sawed-off double-barreled shotgun was hanging underneath and as she reached for it with one hand, her other hand rummaged through the drawers for boxes full of shells.

The shooter was still unrelenting with their fire but she intended to equalize the situation for their offense while loading the shells into place. At the same time, the sinner looked back to the imp children in her classroom and decided to maintain a calm demeanor under pressure. It was something they were going to face in the future at some point.

When the lady was finished, she cocked her weapon and rose from behind the wall, looking down from the second floor at the assailant who interrupted her lesson. A sinner had parked his car on the school's lawn, firing his pistol from the driver's seat. "You bitch! If you didn't have to check up on me while I was catching some tail, neither of us would be in Hell."

Of all the people she had to spend an eternity with, her ex-husband was no longer the one Mayberry wanted to share her life with. Ever since their anniversary and his infidelity, she could not reconcile herself with the man she gave her heart and soul for. What was left was bitterness and hatred as she fired one of her barrels into the hood of his car. "Fuck off, Gerald! Why don't you look around for that gal of yours?! She'll reveal that wild side of hers."

"You sent a bunch of assassins after her!"

"She was a psycho cultist!"

The teacher fired off another barrel, this time, the pellets were inching closer to Gerald's blue fur and forcing him to drive off school property.

Once the shooting was over, Mayberry walked over to her desk and sat down in her chair. None of the children deserved to see that; however, it happened and there was little she could do about it. Her eyes glanced over to theirs and saw the concern on their expressions but she smiled as a means of assurance. The bell rang and she knew they would be leaving at this moment. Perhaps she could shift some of the burdens off their shoulders after witnessing a glimpse into her life. "I know what I said about homework is important but it's due next week. Have a fun weekend."

Hearing this news had lifted their spirits as they grabbed their backpacks and made their way towards the door. They said their farewells and returned a few smiles towards their teacher but it was worth seeing them happy. When she learned that being a sinner did not allow her to have children, this was the closest she'll ever get to a family. After the last imp had left the classroom, she leaned back in her chair, exhausted from the confrontation with an old lover.

All she wanted to do was cry.

Dark was the night as Artyom drove his department-issued vehicle on the road. He was not alone on this ride as his father-in-law and former superior sat right next to him throughout the journey. They had been looking for a restaurant that was not as busy or closed on a Friday but life seemed to inconvenience them. The young man hoped the night was still young enough for them to spend it together since it had been a year after their deaths.

He remembered what happened to them, brought by train, they had entered Heaven to be judged. The Department of Purgatory had made a firm decision on their fates - one would be sent to Hell and the other in Heaven. Yet, the Russian had no desire to watch the Spartan Commander suffer. For all the sins he bore, a young man was willing to trade his eternal award for damnation. Somehow that act of faith and loyalty had resulted in a contract stipulating that Colonel Miller would have his place in paradise if he would perform the work on his behalf. Unfortunately, they would only meet once a year.

When the car had exited off a highway, the old officer pointed his finger towards a sign in the distance - a breakfast diner. "It's been a long time since either of us had anything interesting. Want to check it out?"

"Sure," The young man answered as they navigated through the streets of a small town to get there, "How have things been while you were away?"

"Fine. I finally got to meet with my wife. She was surprised and somewhat disappointed in me; however, she truly missed me."

It was a heartwarming thought about the two meetings. He remembered how tenuous the relationship was under his ex-wife's perspective.

"So, how is work at Purgatory?" The Miller asked, turning his head towards the drive, "You haven't even mentioned a speck of what that work is like."

What could he say? He was relatively new to the rest of the employees there and the job's details weren't impressive. Everything was simply dedicated to the processing of souls to Heaven or Hell. "Interesting to say the least. We're just processing souls through the afterlife but plenty of reading of people you'll never meet."

"Really? I had hoped the department would give you a harsh workload for sins as bad as mine. Maybe you were given such a lucky break that you don't have to do as much?"

Artyom drove his car into the parking lot and was able to find a spot close enough for the building. They paused their conversation and walked over to the front door.

Upon entering the restaurant, much of the building's theme was set in a retro-like science-fiction alternate history. The walls were plastered with propaganda posters about how evil the communists were or keeping an eye out for corporate espionage. At the same time, models of robots were hung from the ceiling and strange energy weapons were encased in the wall.

The only person who seemed to be present was a blonde girl in a blue and yellow jumpsuit, waiting behind the counter. She let out a warm smile before reaching under her workplace for two menus. "We didn't think we would get customers at this hour. How many this evening?"

Colonel Miller raised two fingers before they made the server ask them to follow her to their table. It wasn't a surprise when the two were the only customers present as they found a booth where both men sat across from each other.

"I must ask, what will both of you drink for today?"

The former soldiers turned their heads and spoke in unison. "Water."

"Sure, I can get that for you while you two decide on your orders."

She walked away from the men and left alone enough to bring their thoughts out. The senior man spoke as he looked at his menu. "Pancakes sounds nice. What are you going to get?"

"Corned beef hash," Artyom answered as he looked another glance at the food, "Then chocolate pancakes."

"Do even you have the stomach for that?"

He smiled at the widened eyes of his superior. "When you work for long hours on a floor like mine, you need all the energy you can get a read on someone's soul."

"Oh, I see," He understood, "Does this mean that you're going to be working after this?"

"Yes."

It was the unfortunate truth and a price the Russian was willing to pay to save his father-in-law. Hopefully, it wouldn't be long before he would complete the contract he made with the Department of Purgatory.

The woman returned to their table with drinks in her hands and placed them onto the table. After the orders were asked for, she went back to the kitchen with the menus retrieved.

Soon the commander voiced his thoughts about the young man in front of him. "I remember there was a slight mention that you used to have a mother in the Metro and that she was eaten alive by rats. Part of me is curious but have you ever considered meeting with her ever since we died?"

When his mother was brought up, he paused for a moment and did everything he could to repress his emotions from getting out of hand. That possibility had never entered his mind and part of him was ashamed that he forgot about the existence of his mother. However, it was not his fault since the work at the department was always at the forefront of his thoughts. Now that the subject was brought up, The former Polis Ranger could have a chance at seeing his mother again and his status as an employee could look into the database.

"Artyom?"

He looked to the bearded man and relaxed in his seat. "Sorry about that. It's just that it never occurred to me until now."

"Well, you could always look for her once this night is over," Replied the old officer, "Even though we have an eternity to ourselves, you should visit her. I think she would be happy to know about the man in front of me."

"Is that a compliment, sir?"

The commander crossed his arms. "Consider it a slight encouragement."

Jim had been driving on the road for twelve hours straight, living on nothing more than coffee and Viper Dew. He had been specially selected to drive a very important shipment towards the armory of the Seraphim Guards. Now he would have gotten there a day earlier if his contract didn't involve an armored convoy to escort him to his destination. The Alabaman had wondered why the authorities would go through the effort to secure a shipment if it was in Heaven. What threat could they all expect to deal with if there was nobody to attack it? It was tempting to bring this up to the captain of the convoy; however, it wasn't worth the trouble.

Two armored APCs were ahead of him with the turrets moving and scanning the surrounding area as their vehicle commanders stood out in their hatches, just like dogs poking their heads outside the windows. They began to exit the highway and approach a town along the way to the armory just as they planned back at their 'keep' when they brought him there. Then Jim looked to his military radio when he heard the static. "Okay people, we'll be settling down for tonight before we continue. 2nd and 3rd platoon is going to take first watch."

Hearing the captain's voice was a relief. His body was begging him to use the bathroom at this moment. The convoy entered the town in force tonight and the people who were on the sidewalks had expressed their surprise when they saw the soldiers of Heaven passing by. Cars ahead of the party were quick to move aside and make way for this presence of force. Soon the group had entered a parking lot of a motel and settled down by stopping their vehicles around the truck's immense size.

When Jim shifted his vehicle into park, his eyes looked around for a place to eat. On his right was the motel where he would sleep but he turned his head to the left side of the truck and found a diner across the street. He was sure that they had a restroom and some grub worth trying out. Nothing could go wrong with pancakes. He opened the door and jumped down, greeting the various soldiers who would protect the personnel and their cargo from any would-be eyes before running across the street.

He arrived at the door and opened it up to find a cute girl standing behind a counter. Like a gentleman, he tipped his baseball cap to the server before she asked. "Is it going to be you, sir?"

"Ya'll have a bathroom?" He asked, "I promise to get some food but I need it now."

"Sure, I can wait."

The Alabaman jogged across the room towards the restrooms and as he entered the men's section, the feeling of freedom was almost at hand when he walked over to a toilet. Suddenly, the ground began to shake and the lights turned off.

Something was wrong and Artyom felt it in the air. He looked across his seat to see Colonel Miller become just as confused as he was. Yet, it was hard to explain as the young man looked at the table and noticed the plates and silverware shake uncontrollably before the diner's lights were suddenly shut down. Then a roaring shriek flew over them as the two men went out of their way to leave the building.

Across the street was a parking lot with several parked APCs surrounding a large truck. Their personnel was alerted by the noise as the armed soldiers appeared to be more attentive by spreading out and shouting for the civilians to get out of the way. One of the men was wearing a blue beret while his men wore helmets, who managed to notice a Russian and his father-in-law, "You two, go back inside and stay there. It's not safe out here."

Baleful blue energies screamed from above and splintered into a circular trajectory. Two men watched in horror as they descended towards the unsuspecting men and exploded violently. The soldiers who were caught within the radius had found themselves in a moment of horror while their bodies slowly disintegrated. It began with their skin turning into dust while the poor souls cried out for help, only to collapse, leaving behind ashes and bones with scorchmarks scattered upon the grass and concrete pavement.

He looked up to see what had caused this whole mess in the first place. A strange red light loomed over the parking lot as the remaining soldiers looked up and fired away. Bullets rang out through the night as APCs drove away from the truck just to have the elevation to raise their barrels. Soon this glowing apparition ceased firing and floated in the air, watching over those who fought back.

Artyom and Miller were quick to run back inside, just as the leader of the group rejoined his men amidst the ambush. Soldiers and vehicles alike fired at their assailants as the Russian looked over his shoulder to see the crimson light plummet to the ground. The shockwave created an impact where it had landed but also created a massive force that shook the entire town.

Once inside the diner, they watched a large emanating figure rise from the crater in a red suit of armor and a pair of wings at its back. In one hand was a mighty broadsword as the other remained free. The soldiers of that convoy had recovered from the impact, only to return fire upon this alien entity. Yet, it did nothing as the vehicles drove back to the scene and increase the volume of fire onto this monster.

The Russian duo was caught off-guard when they heard the female server speak with trembling fear. "What is going on?"

He turned around to find the woman shaken by the even while a bald man in a white apron had stood beside her and helped her around. The crowd increased as the driver from the truck appeared skittish in the darkness. "What's uh happening?"

"An ambush," Answered Colonel Miller as he pointed towards the scene, "The question is, who is attacking?"

It disappeared and became a blur that switched between its targets in swift succession. The sword struck down those who still had any hope of resistance, slicing through the men like a hot knife through butter. Oftentimes, a squad would find itself locked in close combat where a man would be tossed aside like a ragdoll. One of these bodies found itself tossed in the direction of the diner, a soldier who was unable to get up on his own.

Artyom watched the helpless soldier crawl towards the diner while his comrades screamed in absolute terror at the threat they faced. It was unnerving to stand by and watch the slaughter, causing him to clench his fists knowing that it was against every fiber of his soul to do so. Yet, he needed to be smart about this.

His hand reached into his pocket, brandishing a phone before he turned it on and called his boss. The voice was not Death's but one of his many secretaries. "Excuse me, do you have an appointment with-"

He cut her off with the urgency in his voice. "This is Artyom Alekseyevich Chyornyj, I work under the department. Trace this call right now and get Death's attention. There's a military convoy under attack in this town and we need help right now."

"Hello? Hello?"

The young man placed his phone on the table as he walked over to the door, hoping to rescue the man a few meters away from the diner.

Then he heard his father-in-law speak. "What the hell are you doing?"

"The right thing?" He answered, "I can't just stand and watch."

He reached for the doorknob and walked outside. The man on the ground was groaning in pain before Artyom dragged him by his straps, catching by surprise before calming down and swiping the trail of blood on his face.

Off in the distance, the fighting intensified as the APCs drove forward to give one final act of respite. The moment was brave; however, a single suit of armor was more than enough to tear them apart. It charged the closest one and rammed into the driver's position, smashing the hull through force of will. Another flanked it from the right but the assailant extended its sword towards it and released the same projectile that initiated the ambush. In a blink of an eye, a great explosion erupted and turned the vehicle into a burning wreck. A third managed to ram itself into the attacker's backside several times but a gauntlet reached out and gripped hard into the armor before the monster raised its sword and sliced it in two.

The last vehicle didn't even try to fight at that moment. It was as if the crew saw how much the odds were against them as they tried to flee on the road. Unfortunately for them, the perpetrator simply lunged its sword forward and ravaged the vehicle with enough power that it was barreled across the grass. All that was left was the silence that followed in the aftermath of the chaos while Artyom had finally brought the man inside.

Soon the others were quick to see the well-being of the soldier as he looked back to see the remains. Yet, the entity that was responsible for all of this had turned its head towards the diner in an ominous glare. Then it stepped forward and approached the building with each step spelling the doom for the people inside. There was one word that would describe the young Russian's feelings on the matter, "Fuck. We need to leave, now."

He closed the door and looked to the others.

"Is there a back door?"

The cook nodded his head. "Yeah, there's a way out."

"Then go," Artyom ordered before stealing a glance at his former commander, "You too, sir. It's too dangerous-"

They never had a chance. He was knocked out upon the door being kicked open as his head banged against the counter and the unhinged door lay atop of him. The Russian wanted to stay awake and do something - anything - to keep the eternal lives of the innocents from harm but his body lacked the strength to move. For a few minutes, he heard the screams of the others as the world went dark. The last one on his mind was Colonel Miller crying out in pain.

The news reached the council chambers that night and Death had the misfortunate to miss the meeting with his kin about the subject matter. His immense tardiness would not go unnoticed but he was busy trying to get people and eyes on the scene of that attack. The isolated nature of the town meant that more available assets were needed to investigate the scene. A situation like this should not have flown underneath his radar.

Death sat alone in his department's conference room, where a rectangular table sat in the middle of the room and was surrounded by chairs. It would have been a normal room if it wasn't for the glowing white stone that hung from the ceiling. Not only was it the room's only source of light but it also served another purpose. It blinked repeatedly until the Archangel took the moment to initiate the call. "Begin the meeting."

The rock began to flicker and slowly project light across the room. On the other side was a man wearing a black suit and tie. His black hair was combed while his hands remained in his pockets. Blue eyes were a sharp distinction from the rest of the room as he confronted his coworker in a hard tone. "Where were you? I had expected you to be at the emergency meeting when I called it. Why didn't you come?"

"Michael I had been busy," He answered, "My assets are searching the scene as we speak."

"Really?" The Archangel wondered as he reached for the chair in front of him and clenched his fingers into the fabric, "A truck full of weapons, meant for the Seraphim Guard, has been stolen and I pray you to have something worth telling."

The reports made plenty of references to the possibility of the methodical planning involved to pull off this kind of attack. "My department found something interesting. Some of the bodies were scorched into bones but that is not all. One of the vehicles was equipped with a recording system and we were able to catch a glimpse of the attacker or perhaps… attackers."

"There was more than one?"

"One assailant killed all of the convoy escorts; however, others showed up to take the truck. They all were wearing crimson red armor and had wings."

The Arcangel's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree but it was quite clear he knew something. "No, it cannot be. What are fallen angels doing in Heaven?"

"Aren't they beholden to the treaty?" Death asked, "Surely, Lucifer wouldn't resort to something so blatant?"

"Perhaps?" He pondered as a hand grasped his chin, thinking to himself, "Unless he intends to bring the war back on."

Guest: Hopefully, I do make it interesting.

Aren serathy: Sometimes it can make everything worse.

alessandro 110: My apologies but I didn't understand your review.