November 27th
Okay, so three diary entries in one day might sound kinda crazy, but seriously, so much happened!
After delivering my letter to Blitzy-kun, I tucked my diary away and brushed the dust off my clothes. Determined to make my mark in Hell, I glanced around the oppressive streets. There was no map, no guide, and no obvious path forward, but I resolved to ask around and figure out where to start.
The heat hit me like a brick wall, and the whole place reeked of sulfur and... decay? Ew. By now, I had spent enough time here to shed any illusions I might have had about its fiery grandeur; no dramatic flaming pits or fancy demons welcoming me with fanfare. I'd also stopped expecting dark welcoming committees or eerie guides, but still, the way everyone just ignored me like I didn't exist? That stung.
I approached the first soul I saw - a being with what looked like a rabbit's head fused onto a human body. "Hi, I'm new here. Do you know what I'm supposed to do now?"
The creature's beady eyes glanced at me, and then it continued walking without so much as a grunt. My lips parted in shock. I felt my face heat up as I tried again. This time with a pair of wolf-like humanoids (who looked similar to Blitzy-kun's receptionist) deep in conversation on a street corner. "Excuse me, can you tell me where I need to go?"
One of them snorted, baring sharp teeth. "Piss off," he growled, before turning back to their conversation like I wasn't even there. My cheeks burned, and I wanted to crawl into a hole.
Then I started noticing the looks people were giving me - or, I guess, the soul's were giving me. Their glances weren't curious or kind; they were disdainful, even repulsed. As I passed a tall figure with ram-like horns and a cat's tail, he wrinkled his nose. "You reek!" he sneered.
For a fleeting moment, I considered if I could return to the living world - or at least find the team at IMP who had brought me here and make them take me back. Maybe that wolf girl could explain things if I could just explain that Blitzy-kun is my master too… but my pride rebelled against the idea of crawling back to them for help. I would go back to a God of this realm, and not before. Unless Blitzy-kun came to me crawling on his knees begging for me back - then it MIGHT consider it.
After a few more minutes of walking I ducked into the dingy diner that had caught my eye earlier. It wasn't much, just a flickering neon sign and smudged windows, but it promised something familiar. I slid into a booth and looked around. The clientele were just as grotesque as those outside: a mix of animal features, twisted horns, and glowing eyes. They ate and drank with unnerving relish.
That's when I realised that if they could eat, maybe I could too. My hunger roared to life, primal and urgent, as if my body (this strange, unfamiliar, yet totally hot shell) had been waiting for me to notice. I flagged down a waitress, a tall elk-like woman with purple fur and tired eyes, but the waitress ignored me. My desperation grew as my stomach twisted in knots. When the waitress passed by again, I stepped directly into her path.
"Excuse me," I said, my voice shaking, trying not to sound desperate. "Why is everyone ignoring me?"
The waitress's gaze was sharp and unkind. "Look, you're freshly dead, right? Which means you have no money. No money, no service. Prove you've got the means to pay, and I'll take an order. Otherwise, leave."
I blinked, stunned. "Wait… money? In Hell?"
She rolled her eyes so hard I thought they'd get stuck. The waitress's lips curled into a sneer. "Yeah. Shocking, I know. Welcome to hell, sweetheart." With a dismissive flick of her hand, she brushed past me.
Humiliated and still starving, I slunk out of the diner. My hunger was an all-consuming ache now, gnawing at my insides. Could I die again from starvation? The thought freaked me out. The idea of fading into nonexistence, of completely losing even this miserable, awful scrap of existence, was like staring into an endless void. My chest tightened and my mind spun. What would it feel like? Would it hurt, or would I just vanish, like I never even mattered? The thought of disappearing, of being forgotten even here, made me want to scream. I shoved it down hard and focused on my survival.
At least what the waitress said explained the stares. I was out of place here, an obvious outsider in this horrifyingly indifferent realm.
I wandered the streets for what felt like hours, my steps echoing against the cracked pavement. The city seemed endless, a labyrinth of jagged architecture leaning at impossible angles, like they were about to collapse on top of me. Shadows clung to every corner, and unwelcoming faces with glowing red eyes blinked out from the darkness, always watching but never approaching. The air was heavy, like it was pressing down on me, and there wasn't a single pointing to a new arrivals port, no helpful brochures, and certainly no one offering guidance. Every street looked different, but in a similar redness that made it feel the same no matter what corner I rounded. It was a maze of chaos and despair and the more I walked, the more lost I felt.
Eventually, I found myself at the city's edge, where a strange, shimmering wall stretched endlessly in either direction. From a distance, it was invisible, like it wasn't even there, but as I got closer, it began to ripple and twist, the air around it bending like heat waves on asphalt. When I stood just a breath away, I could see its surface undulating like liquid, streaks of iridescent colours swirling together in a mesmerising dance - blues, purples, and greens that reminded me of oil slicks on water. It was hauntingly beautiful, but the longer I stared, the more it felt like it was staring back, as if it could see right through me. I reached out, my fingers trembling, and as soon as I touched it, a surge of energy jolted through me. It wasn't just painful - it was stunning, a mix of agony and wonder that left me gasping as I stumbled back. Above me, the dome surrounding the city flickered into view for just a moment, shimmering like a mirage, before vanishing again. Escape was impossible. So much for leaving. This city was my prison.
Exhausted, I slumped into an alley, my gaze landing on a bakery across the street. Its sign, "The Last Crumb," hung crookedly over the entrance. ute name, I guess. I watched as a shadowy figure emerged from the back, carrying a trash bag to a dumpster. The thought that crept into my mind disgusted me, but the desperation of my hunger overpowered my pride. I edged toward the dumpster, telling myself it was just a peek.
Inside, I found burned and discarded bread. The smell was acrid, but the sight of food (even ruined food) was too much. I grabbed a piece, tore off the unburned section, and devoured it. Relief flooded me as the gnawing pain in my stomach subsided. I didn't stop until every salvageable crumb was gone, leaving only ashes behind. When I finished, I felt like crying. Actually, I'll admit it - I did cry, right there by the dumpster.
By the time I pulled myself together, night had fallen. The city's eerie glow dimming into shadows and a new planetoid loomed up over the horizon that stretched far beyond the city. It was a glowing yellow orb, its surface swirling with dusty, golden light that spun in hypnotic spirals. The light danced like threads of molten silk, mesmerizing and strangely delicate, but there was something profoundly haunting about it.
I considered returning to the heart of the city, but the quieter outskirts felt safer. Gathering some discarded boxes, I tried to build a makeshift shelter. The structure collapsed almost immediately, leaving me with no choice but to layer the boxes over myself and pretend they were blankets. The cold seeped in anyway, deeper and more biting than any cold I'd felt in life. I curled into a ball, my fingers darkening to a near-azure blue as the hours dragged on until, shivering, I fell asleep.
When I woke up, the sky above was a dull, bloody red. Morning, I guess? My whole body ached, but I stood up anyway. This was my new existence - ignored, unwanted, and utterly alone in a city that had no place for me. I wasn't giving up. Not yet. I brushed myself off and grabbed my diary. There had to be a way to survive, to carve out some semblance of meaning in this cruel afterlife. I just had to find it.