Chapter Text
You woke up with a start, realizing you were standing just in time to avoid falling on your wobbly legs. Your memory wasn’t quite there yet - where were you? How did you wake up standing? What happened before you fell asleep - or did you pass out? Questions whirled through your mind, and you couldn’t answer a single one of them. If anything, you only started to get more questions the longer you stood there.
Everything was bathed in shades of red, and the noise was loud. Everywhere you looked, the streets were full of humanoid creatures, none of them actually human. The storefronts were… odd. Businesses called things like Devi’s Diner, Cemetery Finds, and The Family Fuck Zone. That last one was definitely the most concerning, but honestly, nothing here made any sense. Looking up to find the source of the red light, you let out a gasp.
The sky itself was red, and rather than a sun, you could see a white orb that looked like it was covered in feathers.
It looked like what people might have thought heaven would look like.
And as you glanced around more, an anxious tingling running down your skin as goosebumps rose, you had an unfortunate realization.
This was hell.
And on the heels of your first realization came a second:
You were dead.
A whine rose from the back of your throat, the beginnings of a breakdown shuddering through your frame as your vision grew blurry with tears. But before you could let it go, before you could sob and scream and rail at the world that let you die, that put you in hell - something fell at your feet.
You looked down, and promptly screamed, this time in genuine fear, and turned around, booking it away from the bloody arm that had been thrown directly in front of you, and ran like your life - er, afterlife - depended on it. (It probably did.)
Running so quickly, everything around you was a blur, and you barely took in the faces of the monsters around you. Some were furry, some sharp, some literally just objects, like a huge dagger for a head with eyes and a mouth slapped on. And in the reflection of the storefront windows you passed by, you glanced at yourself, trying to get an idea of what you had turned into.
The next storefront held a massive selection of TV screens, and your feet stopped moving without your intention. On every screen was the same man. A TV for a head, with a sharp grin, sharper claws, and a freshly-pressed suit. As he spoke, speakers in front of the store let his voice ring out clearly. Stopping fully, you stood on the sidewalk, facing the screens. The man was talking, his smooth, deep voice distracting you from the screams and sounds of destruction and arguing from the other denizens of the realm.
You found yourself transfixed, and you took a step closer. And another.
“So if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get the newest VoxTek phone today! You won’t find anything better in all of Hell,” the man on screen said confidently, winking. “Remember, VoxTek has the best of the best of every new technology, and if you want to stay up to date, you need our products. You can trust me with your tech.” As he spoke, your attention narrowed to his left eye, as it grew bigger, captivating circles spreading out from the center.
Your head grew foggy, and the only words you registered were “Trust me.” Deep in your heart, in your very soul, suddenly, you did.
The channel changed, and you jolted in place, shaking your head. You had no idea what just happened, but it felt like you lost time. Turning away from the storefront, you took a step down the sidewalk. But you couldn’t resist one last uneasy glance at the TVs, which were showing - oh, that was porn. That was just straight up porn, live on TV, right in front of you, with a four-armed arachnid who was admittedly very attractive, and approximately eight other humanoids, all very large, and very, ah… well-endowed.
Blushing fiercely, you twisted your head forward again, striding determinedly away. You needed to figure out what was happening, how to keep yourself safe, how to ensure that it wasn’t your arm landing next to someone else next.
It didn’t take long to realize that you were pretty much entirely on your own here. Every interaction you surreptitiously spied on, every person you watched make an offer to another, was steeped in deceit and treachery. There was no holding the door open for someone else. No friendly waves, or happy conversation. No offering to walk an old lady down the street… not that you saw any old ladies. No genuine trust between anyone down here, it seemed.
If you wanted to survive, you would have to figure it all out yourself. Pretend that you were just continuing your life back on earth. Get a job, get a home, stick to yourself until you understood how to carve out as good of a life as you could here. Hopefully they didn’t need a social security number in hell. Or a good resume with a cover letter. You definitely did not have either, and you’d be hard-pressed to find a job back on earth without them.
It took a few days, but you found a job even you could do, with what little knowledge you had of the world you’d been dropped into, quite unceremoniously. Incredibly, warehouse jobs still existed in hell. You might not have been the strongest person working there, but your organizational abilities impressed the supervisor enough to earn you a permanent position. And the pay was enough for you to afford a tiny studio apartment nearby. Receiving a paycheck every day helped to get you the place quickly, and when you gave it a moment of thought, it made sense that monthly paydays wouldn’t work as well down here. After all, you could barely guarantee you’d be alive a few days later, much less a few weeks.
Your studio wasn’t much to look at. Barely big enough to fit a full-size mattress that had been discounted at the local mattress store (which, just like on earth, was definitely just a front for money laundering), a loveseat for a couch, and a TV. A big TV. The biggest you could reasonably fit.
For no reason in particular, of course. At least, not any reason you were willing to admit out loud, or even to yourself. Except for late at night, when the lights were off, and the teal, red, and white flashes from the screen lit your face, as you watched every recent special from VoxTek that included Vox himself.
You’d quickly found out what the man on TV’s name was. After all, it was nearly impossible to avoid him or his company here. Every billboard, every public TV, every possible place for advertisement, included multiple different ads for various VoxTek products. Most of them were of Vox himself, a sinner who had been in Hell since the 1950’s on Earth. Researching him was easy; even finding early segments from as far back as when he had worked alongside Alastor. It wasn’t clear what had made that alliance end, but Vox had only made himself more successful since then. Building a company from the ground up, making deals, proving his power, gathering the powerful Valentino and Velvette to become part of his team, until the Vees were synonymous with power. Until they had all but taken over Pride Ring, every sinner carrying a VoxTek phone, the more well-off ones getting every single VoxTek product until their home was full of it. Smart TVs, smart fridges, smart watches, washers, dryers, toasters - you name it, VoxTek produced it.
With any luck, you’d make enough money to fill your home with those products, too. It made you feel safe, to see Vox everywhere you looked.
You didn’t think too hard about why.
You also didn’t think too hard about how you always seemed to lose time whenever you saw Vox onscreen. Whether it was on your way home from work - you had to learn to keep your eyes on your feet on your way to work, after being late twice in a row - or at home on your loveseat. It should have concerned you. Vox’s smooth, sharp voice would slice straight through your thoughts as he stole all your attention. He would say to trust him, to trust VoxTek, and the next time you blinked, minutes would have gone by.
Once, it was two hours.
But rather than worry about the lost time, or try to pull away when you saw Vox, his gaze always drew you in. Made you feel right. Safe. Like you didn’t have to think. All you had to do was listen, trust, obey. Vox wouldn’t steer you wrong, and you felt that certainty deep in your soul. So every time you had to shake your head, feeling like you’d just woken up from a subdued dream, you relaxed, rather than tensing. You leaned into the memory of Vox’s soothing, commanding voice wrapping itself around you. And you waited patiently for the next time you would hear it.
Within a matter of weeks, you had devoured an astonishing amount of Vox content. As it turned out, spending every single moment of your free time researching him paid off quite well. The ins and outs of VoxTek, the companies that worked alongside and under it, official sponsorships, their business model, and Vox’s own personal history were all stored safely in your mind now. You found it was easy to remember anything that involved Vox. Like you were made for it.
Or had been altered, just slightly, for it. For him.
Warehouse work remained as steady as ever, and since you never went anywhere other than work, home, and a small fusion restaurant nearby, you had managed to avoid any nasty altercations with other demons. Sure, there was plenty of concerning action at work, but all of the big strong sinners mostly fought with each other, not with you. Anytime boxes started getting thrown - and, more often than you liked, body parts - you quickly made yourself scarce, crouching down behind shelves and pulling out your VoxTek phone to make sure you were up to date on Vox’s news segments. The man himself was rarely there, as Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench generally handled the everyday events, but Vox would show up anytime something big happened. Or any time he wanted to brag about a huge new deal.
While your coworkers were shouting and tackling each other to the ground, making a mess of your beautifully ordered boxes, you would make moon eyes at your screen. The chaos around you faded whenever Vox’s face took up your screen, and you smiled proudly at his accomplishments, at the way he excitedly and arrogantly talked himself up. If it had all been talk and nothing else, that would be one thing, but Vox always delivered. You’d noticed, keeping track of the deals he boasted about, and how they inevitably became the most lucrative down the line.
As far as you were concerned, Vox was the whole package. Smart, charming, silly at times (his obsession with sharks was surprisingly adorable), commanding, and powerful. He knew just how to play the crowd. How to slip his way into the lives of every sinner in hell, until it became impossible for anyone to live without his products - without him.
You admired that, admired everything about Vox, with an infatuation bordering on obsession.
Nahsty, one of your coworkers, noticed. She was a falcon demon, her sharp eyes missing little, so you figured it was inevitable.
“So, what’s your Voxxy up to today, honey?” Nahsty greeted, feathers fluffing and settling as she took cover from yet another warehouse brawl behind your shelf.
“Huh?” You blinked twice, having to use more self-control than you were used to in order to pull your eyes from your screen.
Nahsty rolled her eyes, chuckling. “You’re always looking at your phone. And it’s always Vox on the screen.” Your stupefied expression didn’t change. Looking at you with a mote of pity, Nahsty slung a winged arm around your shoulders, pulling your head down just in time to avoid a flying wrench. “You’re lost on him, aren’t ya, hon’?” she rephrased, pointing at Vox where he was giving a speech on your phone.
Blushing, you fumbled the tech, trying to lock the screen. Instead, you swiped the video away, settling on the home screen. Which was a picture of Vox, grinning slyly at the viewer. Nahsty lifted a brow, and, sweating, you finally managed to lock the screen.
The lock screen was a different image of Vox, lounging in a chair with hooded eyes.
Nahsty raised her other brow. “Yeah, you got it bad, sweetie.”
So much for pretending you didn’t. Sighing in defeat, you opened your phone back up, idly scrolling through your gallery of Vox photos to avoid Nahsty’s piercing gaze. “I can’t help it,” you replied morosely. “Have you seen him?”
She snorted, patting your shoulder. “Yeah, I have, and I also know when to keep my eyes away. He can hypnotize, don’t you know that?”
That got you to look up at her. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Uh, only that the more you watch him, the more you’re going to want to? It’s like a caffeine addiction, honey, but way worse.”
As the sounds of a scuffle began to fade, you peaked your head over the shelf. One of the bigger women had another pinned to the floor, and rather than fighting, they appeared to be making out now.
You pulled your head back behind the shelf with a grimace. So much for getting any real work done today. “I know,” you mumbled, pulling your knees up to your chest. “But there’s- there’s nothing wrong with that, right?” Eyes shining with hope, you looked up at Nahsty.
She gave you a flat, unimpressed look. “Uh-huh. And there’s nothing wrong with needing a whole fuckin’ bottle of whiskey to fall asleep every night, up until there is.”
You glanced away, knowing she was right.
Nahsty gusted out a sigh, seeming to come to a decision. “Look, I used to- I mean, I spent some time at VoxTek, myself.” This earned her a wide-eyed look from you. The grimace on her face implied her time hadn’t exactly been pleasant. “It can be heady, letting them get to you. The Vees. But it’s not a good idea,” she warned, poking you in the cheek with a long claw. “It’s probably a bit too late for you though, huh. And they did say that if I found someone new…” she trailed off thoughtfully, side-eyeing you.
Was this what you thought? Was she… offering to contact the Vees for you?
A lopsided, sad grin split her face. “Yeah, I might as well. You’ll be happier for it, at least for a little.”
“You mean… you’ll…?”
Clutching your shoulder tight, she gave you a half hug. “Yeah, hon. I’ll see if I can’t do some of that bullshit networking to get you a job at the Tower.”
Hope shone in your eyes. “You would do that for me?”
She scoffed. “Oh, don’t take it as a favor, honey. This is probably gonna hurt you in the end, but fuck it, we’re all sinners here. Ask me tomorrow what I’ve got for you, alright?” She craned her long neck around your hiding place, and stood, taking your hand to pull you up with her.
Uncertain, you glanced back to where your coworkers had been kissing. Only a pile of outer clothes remained, and now that you thought about it, there was a distinct banging coming from behind the office door.
Turning back to Nahsty, you held her hand in both of yours. “Thank you, Nahsty.”
“I told you, don’t thank me,” she muttered, shaking your hands off and blushing. “Just… be careful, okay?”
“I will,” you agreed immediately.
Laughing, Nahsty led the way back to your stations. “No, you won’t. But if you’re lucky, you won’t get hurt too badly.”
The next day, you headed to work with a spring in your step. A few times, you caught yourself staring at a billboard, the screens at the TV store, and you found it so hard to look away - you didn’t want to. You were going to get to work in V Tower soon, if Nahsty’s connections worked out. Maybe you’d actually get to see Vox in person, one day.
Sure enough, she greeted you with an uncomfortable smile when you entered the break room to get ready for work. “Well, it went a lot smoother than I thought,” she told you with a thumbs-up. “Velvette needed a new hire, anyway. The last one was, uh, ‘unsatisfactory,’” she said, making air quotes around the last word. “So, the place is yours!”
You clasped both of her hands with yours, bouncing excitedly. “Really? What’s the job? When can I start? Is it really in the Tower? Do you think Vox ever walks by Velvette’s department?”
“Woah, slow down there, kid,” Nahsty warned with an indulgent chuckle. “Let’s see.” She held up one finger, “The job is helping out with Velvette’s designers. Sewing, patching, ironing, boring shit like that.” Her middle finger rose. “You can start next Monday, so that your current boss has a chance to replace you.” Next, her ring finger, counting up your questions. “Yes, it’s really in the tower.” And lastly, her pinky. “I know for a fact that he walks by sometimes. Velvette’s got a whole floor near the bottom of the Tower, and Vox goes there for fittings when she’s in a mood.”
Taking in your face, Nahsty pulled back an inch. “Woah there, sparkly-eyes, you look like I just told you way better news.”
“I might see Vox sometimes!” you said wonderingly. “And I’ll be so much closer…”
“Yyyyep, you sure will. For all the good it’ll do you.” Nahsty swept her tailfeathers side to side, peering down at you. “But if you change your mind and you wanna stay here, or come back… I talked to the manager. You’re good at what you do here.” Meeting your gaze, she placed her hands on your shoulders. “I know hell ain’t the best place to be. And most of us aren’t nice. But somehow, you are, and you keep your head down and you do well. Don’t let yourself become… something you’re not, alright?”
Blinking, you returned Nahsty’s serious gaze. This was the first time anyone had shown you kindness, down in Hell. “I’ll be careful,” you replied softly. “Thank you, Nahsty.”
Shuffled feathers covered her embarrassment. “Aw, shucks, you don’t gotta be so sweet, hon.”
You grinned up at her. “Really. It means a lot to me that you care.”
“Hmph!” Nahsty crossed her wings, not meeting your eyes. “Only because you’re a good worker.” But she smiled when she said it, and you knew she was just acting tough.
The rest of the work week passed quickly, your thoughts focused on what would be coming the following Monday, your nights spent researching Velvette, design, practicing stitches and patterns, learning everything about fashion until you could talk about it in your sleep. (And you did, much to your neighbors’ disgruntlement, given the thin walls.)
When Monday morning arrived, you woke up bright and bushy-tailed, eager to prove yourself. Most of your recent paycheck had gone towards an understated yet sleek outfit, one that would help you look like you already belonged in V Tower. If you were lucky, Velvette would approve of it, too, and see your worth.
The trip to V Tower was longer than to the warehouse, but it gave your jangling nerves time to settle as the tower loomed in the distance, only growing bigger in your eyes until you were standing in front of it.
You took a big breath. You had one shot to prove yourself. To Velvette, and if it went well, one day to Vox.
You strode up to the doors, hesitating only slightly as they opened before you, and you crossed the threshold.