Life isn't exactly ordinary for Julane Jones, especially since she's half-human and half-demon. When she decides to be a carrier for a human-underworld delivery service and accidentally ends up stuck in Hell, her already unusual world becomes even m...
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Hours had passed, and silence had dominated the room. The endless stream of faux clouds had had all my attention for the entire time. It was like being forced to watch the same video over and over again; I felt dead inside as lunacy gradually ate my sanity away.
A coarse cough broke my focus, and before I realized it, I was staring at Devlin. And that was when I became aware of it.
Despite his great physique, his skin was as pale as snow and was so translucent you could see his veins. He appeared to be burdened with some illness. He shook between each breath, arms crossed, and looked like he could pass out any second.
Concerned, I asked, "Are you okay there, Devil Boy?"
Putting up a tough boy façade, he nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."
I wasn't convinced. "You sure? You look like shit on my end." He ignored me and continued to cough every few seconds. That was when it dawned on me. "How long have you been here?"
His shaking came to a sudden halt. "I don't know. You lose track of time here," he responded.
Silence unfolded between us for the second time. However, unlike the previous time, it didn't last long.
"Um, since we are both going to die in here..." I tucked a stray curl back behind my ear. "... how did you, you know, end up in this place?"
He looked around him before pointing at himself. "Me?"
"No, your shadow." I narrowed my eyes. "Of course I mean you! There's not exactly another soul I can talk to in here so..."
Pulling his legs in, he rested his chin on his knees. "Sorry, I'm just shocked you would ask. No one has bothered to when they arrived here."
"Well, you can't blame them. They were probably too busy worrying about their sorry asses being cut up." I reminded him. It wasn't exactly the ideal place for casual chit-chat.
He nodded in agreement then drew his legs closer till he resembled a ball. We sat silent for about another two minutes before he blurted, "I ran away."
Curiosity had me by the ear. "Ran away from what?"
"Home," he responded. For the first time, his manly persona broke down into a petrified, little boy. "Whether you believe me or not, I am the next of kin to take over my family's business, and to be honest with you, the idea scares me to death. The training that came with it tore me to shreds; I couldn't take it. The responsibilities were too much for me and, each time I failed, the more I couldn't see myself taking up such a huge role. The whole experience only fed my anxiety and depression – both of which I have recently been diagnosed with. It was all too much, and my mental and physical health was suffering because of it. Anyway, in the process of fleeing, I ended up here." He took a breath then continued in a low whisper that was barely audible, "I know that sounds pathetic, coming from a twenty-five-year-old man, but I just couldn't do it anymore."
