Achieving Heaven Through Hell Part 1: A Peaceful Afterlife

Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Detox

The hotel was elegant in a way. The decorating, while not quite to his tastes, was at least consistent in its philosophy and use of color. It looked like something out of an Edgar Allen Poe story, with tall, dark hallways and Gothic murals peppering the walls. The severity of the style held an undeniable air of grandeur and elegance, reinforced by the red and black color scheme endemic to Hell. Indeed, rather than seeming dirty or illicit, the colors made it seem...ominous? Foreboding?

Kira decided then that he actually quite liked it.

"And through here is the second floor rec-room. It has a foos-ball table and a billiard table, though the pool table is out of order at the moment. Angel took the billiard balls for 'reasons' and I don't think we'll be wanting them back, so I ordered new ones. They'll be in next week. Do you play pool, Mr. Kira?"

Kira looked down at the hostess of this strange establishment. She was rather short for a denizen, reaching about mid-chest on him, and thin but in a way that didn't convey any frailness, but athletic, like a ballet dancer. She seemed very human, a look that Kira realized he'd missed since coming here. Doll-like and elegant, with flowing blonde hair, porcelain-white skin, and charming little red dots on her cheeks.

Then there were her hands.

Long delicate fingers. Cute, delicate knuckles. Clean, trimmed, pedicured nails done up with shiny black nail polish contrasting exquisitely with her smooth alabaster skin. He'd almost given himself away the instant he'd seen them. In all Hell there were no finer hands, not since he was alive had he encountered such delicate subtle beauty. He longed feel those hands in his own. To have them caress his face, to draw those dainty fingers into his mouth and play with them with his tongue. The mere thought made his heart race, set his teeth on edge, his claws once again pushed out from the tips of his fingers.

"Mr. Kira?" She repeated, turning to look at him.

Kira tried his best to look nonchalant, glancing over at the rec-room. "I've been known to sink a few pockets. I find the mathematical aspect of it soothing. Numbers in motion."

She smiled and nudged him with her elbow. "You'll have to show me some moves, I'm absolutely terrible!"

Kira thought about wrapping her hands around the shaft of a cue-stick, her fingers caressing a billiard.

"Well, here's your room!" She said, gesturing at a door.

They entered and Kira gawped. It was opulent by Hell's standards, and outrageous compared to what he had become accustomed to. A twenty-by twenty room with a double-king sized bed set in a Gothic-style canopy of carved ebony and red gossamer curtains. Across the room was a stylized Victorian-era red leather lounger with a black tassel skirt. In the corner of the room was a handsome hand-carved desk with a scallop-bell lamp on top. All as neat and clean as any Five-Star Hotel on Earth. Where had this place been all these years?!

"And through that door is your private bathroom. It has a large-sized walk-in shower with a rainfall showerhead and adjustable steam nozzles. Toiletries and all that stuff are under the sink. If you're missing anything don't hesitate to let us know!"

"Thank you very much," Kira ran a finger across the desktop, nodding in quiet approval at the lack of dust. "You've done a marvelous job of cleaning, this place is spotless. I think I'll be very happy here."

"Oh!" She squeaked, reaching out and placing her hand over his, squeezing it. Her hands were as soft and delicate as they looked. "Thank you! It makes me so happy to hear you say that!"