This is hell.
Azazel heard screams echoing in the distance.
Yes. This is definitely hell.
His eyes focused on a volcano in the distance, spewing molten lava on bodies that were trapped around it.
There is torture. I have definitely not seen anything more hellish than... well, hell.
He watched as the bodies burned to a crisp. He wondered if those same bodies would be born over and over again to feel different types of torture.
Lucifer let out a hearty laugh as he playfully slapped Azazel's bottom. He gazed into his so-called son's eyes and smiled.
"Welcome to my realm, boys," he stated, walking forward on the rocky, barren road.
Azazel jerked and reached behind himself to rub his ass. Lucifer didn't have to slap that hard.
That was unnecessary.
Luke ran forward, pointing to the lavish castle in the distance, which was a stark contrast to the run-down wooden buildings lining the road. His eyes widened with wonder and curiosity. He was finally able to witness the very pits of hell.
The hell scholar stood with his mouth wide-open, almost starstruck, as his eyes took in the scenery of the stone-walled castle, with gargoyle statues attached to long black and gray spires. The palace was lit up with a bright, red light, which made it appear as if it were lit aflame.
"I see you like my palace," Lucifer hummed as he stepped next to Luke.
Azazel looked at Lucifer with a dumbfounded expression. "If you are so proud of your palace, why did you want to rule over Britannica?"
Lucifer scratched his chin. "I can rule two worlds."
"Why don't you just stay here?" Azazel asked him.
"Terra is a fun world," Lucifer hummed slowly. "I want to observe the people of Terra. I'll come back to stay eventually."
As the two spoke, Luke had whipped out his notebook and had been scribbling a drawing to replicate the look of the scenery on paper. He wanted to immortalize the palace in the form of a drawing.
Azazel peaked at the drawing Luke had been working on and chuckled internally. He obviously wasn't the best artist, as it looked like something a grade schooler would sketch.
Perhaps he should stick to writing.
The three of them began walking down the stone path toward the castle. As they walked, Azazel noticed a sign above one of the wooden buildings. He focused his eyes on it and noticed the writing specified it was a cafe.
He raised his brow and peered inside. He saw a group of demons seated inside, sipping on various drinks, which caused him confusion.
"Ah, the best place in hell," Lucifer stated when he noted Azazel gazing at the building. "Come."
Lucifer opened the wood-crafted door and stepped inside. He slid into a seat at the counter and glared at the silver-skinned demon. The demon bowed to Lucifer.
"Three bubblers," Lucifer commanded the bartender.
"Yes, my lord." The bartender nodded. He placed the pitchers at the tap and poured out three drinks, setting them on the counter toward the trio.
Azazel sat next to the demon lord and looked down into the pitcher. The liquid he saw left much to be desired. It was thick, red, and did indeed have bubbles forming at the top.
"Try it," Lucifer ordered as he took a huge swig out of one of the pitchers. He licked his lips and made a small noise full of satisfaction as he savored the taste of the beverage.
"It looks like the contents of an overflowing outhouse," Azazel stated as he raised his brow, watching Lucifer drink the vile liquid.
Azazel hesitantly looked in the pitcher and picked up the glass. The liquid bubbled as he swirled the glass in his hand. The bubbles made Azazel nervous, as they continued to build toward the top of the glass. He didn't feel like the brew was something even a demon should think about consuming.
His stomach began to ache, and he hadn't even tasted it on his lips.
This may kill me.
"Just try it," Lucifer sighed as he took another swig.
Azazel looked to his right. He noticed Luke had already taken a drink. The Hell Scholar was slumped over his seat, clutching his abdomen tightly.
Azazel hesitated and raised the glass to his lips. He felt the bubbles tickle his upper lip as he held it to his mouth. He took a deep breath, then slowly took a sip. After the first sip, he couldn't help himself. He downed the rest of the glass with large gulps.
"This is oddly delicious," Azazel noted.
Lucifer laughed. "Of course it is, boy. It's made with human blood and a few demonic herbs."
Azazel shifted in his seat and sighed. That explained why the taste was good. It seemed demons had a thing for human blood. He wasn't about to question where the blood was extracted or how.
"What sort of herbs?"
"Herbs that grow in hell?" Lucifer shrugged. "Look, I'm not a botanist. Don't ask me these things."
Azazel refilled the glass and chugged the contents. He leaned over Luke. Azazel stared down at the Hell Scholar's twisted face, which had a look of total displeasure spread across it.
My guess is he has the shits brewing. I doubt a human should be consuming this. He may shit his pants if he hasn't already.
Luke slowly lifted his head and looked toward Lucifer. His eyes were heavy and half-closed. "Is there a bathroom?"
The bartender overheard the conversation. He focused his yellow eyes on the human and pointed toward the back.
In a hurry, Luke disappeared in the direction the bartender had pointed.
Azazel shuddered as he imagined the bathrooms of hell. He wondered what sort of condition the porcelain thrones of hell would be in. In a way, he felt sorry for Luke, who would have to use a public restroom in the demonic realm. He imagined they would be worse than the restrooms in a crowded chain supermarket or fast food establishment on Earth.
"Poor man," Azazel sighed.
"He's the one who got the hell shits," Lucifer said, raising a brow. "It's his own damn fault for drinking a demon cocktail."
"A demon cocktail you ordered for him," Azazel responded, a reminder that Luke didn't choose it himself.
"I am who I am," Lucier snickered in response. "I have to stir the pot a bit. I have a reputation to uphold."
Azazel shrugged. The blonde demon made a fair point.
He consumed the rest of the pitcher as the two waited for Luke to return. Azazel felt a mild buzz in his head from the consumption of the brew.
When Luke didn't return after about an hour, Azazel looked in the direction he had headed. "I should check on him."
He wasn't about to let one of the citizens of Britannicca get lost in the fiery pits of the underworld.
Azazel rose from his seat. He walked to the back. Before he even entered, a putrid scent filled his nose. It was in his moment that he regretted having an enhanced sense of smell from becoming a demon.
Damn. This can't be good for anyone's digestive system to have a scent like this spilling from their ass.
Azazel moved to the closed door of the stall, where the Hell Scholar had vanished inside. He was almost too afraid to look. He grasped the knob with a shaky grip. The scent worsened as he turned the doorknob to check in on him.
He hesitantly pushed open the door. Azazel glanced inside to see Luke lying face-down on the floor of the bathroom, holding his stomach, the contents of his intestines oozing onto the tiled floor beneath him.
Disgusting.
Azazel cautiously stepped forward, ensuring his foot didn't step in the liquid on the floor. He reached down and shook Luke's shoulder in an attempt to rouse the man who had collapsed on the bathroom floor.
Luke didn't stir with the initial prodding, which caused Azazel to frown. He couldn't believe he was in this situation.
Azazel glanced down. He shuddered at the sight of shit spraying out of the asscrack of the scholar.
Without warning, Luke opened his eyes. He quickly sat up and shrieked, seeing Azazel standing above him.
Azazel's only response was to roll his eyes. "Disgusting. I knew coming to help was a bad idea."
Luke frowned and pointed at the doorway. Azazel looked in the direction the Hell Scholar had pointed.
"Get out!" Luke yelled, a blush across his cheeks from embarrassment.
"With pleasure," Azazel muttered as he skillfully moved away from the bathroom.
Azazel walked away from the door until he could no longer smell the horrid stench. He sighed with relief.
I knew coming to hell was a bad idea.
As Lucifer watched Azazel retreat from the bathroom, a mischievous grin decorated the blonde demon's face. Azazel couldn't read his mind, but he was sure he had found amusement in the situation. Somehow, he figured the demon knew exactly what would happen when Luke tasted the drink.
Lucifer stood from his seat and brushed past Azazel. "Leave it to me," the demon lord said as he proceeded to the room.
Azazel could hear Lucifer humiliating Luke from where he stood. He knew the embarrassment would be too much for Luke to handle. After all, he worshiped the ground Lucifer walked on.
It must be humiliating to be talked down to by the man you worship as a god.
Azazel placed his palm over his face. He wasn't looking forward to what else there was to see in the depths of hell. The little cafe was more than enough. He just wanted to go home to Emma's embrace.
Of course, Lucifer wouldn't allow that.