Hell is Swell [bxb]

Chapter Twenty~ Soul

CHAPTER TWENTY- Breaking Shit, Having Feelings

POV: Soul

Xavion parked outside of a concrete building, one with boarded windows covered in screws and various planks of wood. The front door had red stains on it—which were, in my mind, 100% blood.

In the barren, hellish landscape, it looked like it fit right in.

"So, you've brought me here to kill me again?" I demanded, crossing my arms stiffly.

He rolled his eyes and shut off his car, flinging his door open. "Just come on."

I followed reluctantly, but only because I'd honestly rather be anywhere than in a car. I still don't trust those things. Xavion walked to the building without looking back for me. I trailed after him.

We entered the building, which looked just as shady inside as it did outside. The walls were a stained, yellow hue and there were half-ripped couches in the waiting area. A bored demon was standing at what looked like a front desk that had a hole punched through it.

Even though I hated him, I found myself stepping closer to Xavion.

He walked up to the demon, and slammed some money on the counter. "We'd like a room, please."

"Um..." I cut in from behind him. "Do we?" I muttered, my eyes darting around at the suspicious red-brown stains and flickering lights.

The demon at the desk ignored me, reading through some half-torn papers. "Okay," they said, their voice high-pitched and nasally. "We should have an open room." They opened a counter and pulled out a key before leading us down a hallway.

The further we walked, the louder it got.

Screaming. The sounds of banging, and hammering. Glass shattering. Gutteral cries.

The hallway itself was a horror show—dim fluorescents that wavered overhead, pictures that seemed to track you with their eyes, and a sign that read "let it out!" in big, blocky letters. Doors lined the hallway, like Grant and Xavion's old apartment building, but some doors were missing their number plates, and a few of them were even hanging off their hinges.

The demon led us to a random door and opened it with the key. "You get an hour," they said. "As always, you can break anything. Just not the door—I'm tired of having to say that. Don't break our door. We will make you pay extra. Any injury is not our fault, that's on you. Wear the safety glasses, and you won't get glass shards in your eyes. If you try to sue us over it, you will lose. Any questions?"

"Ye—"

"No, thank you." Xavion cut me off, making me bristle.

The demon dropped the key in Xavion's awaiting hand and set off, leaving us alone. Xavion walked into our room, and I followed—still annoyed.

Some of my annoyance was taken over by confusion as I walked in. There were selves with delicate-looking vases and dining ware. There were also a few boards and cabinets on the floor with miscellaneous holes in them. There was also a wall of weaponry—mallets, axes, a chainsaw.

"So you are going to kill me?"

"No—" he sighed. "It's a break room. You come here to break shit and let out rage. I think it may help with," he waved over my body, "that."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"I'll demonstrate," he said with a shrug. He walked over to the glass wall and picked up a wine glass. "Now, I'm going to think about Lucifer and my dad and—" he growled slightly as he threw it, and it shattered all over the scratched-up wooden flooring. He gathered himself in a breath and spun back towards me. "Works wonders."