When I had leaped in that hellish river of a portal I had expected to end up in a supermarket with shelves of fire, disgusting and living products with silver tongues, two monsters with countless, stretching arms doing every task from the distance.

Instead, a field of lush, green grass spread before me. It felt as if I was standing on a very human countryside area. I must admit, however, that I had never seen the blades so perfectly cut, nor had I ever seen such a tender tint of sunset, let alone had I ever witnessed this amount of butterflies bobbing around me. Was this somehow paradi--

"Weld yeh look at all this green horseshit!" the demon said, and one by one, the butterflies began to burn and die, much like a piece of paper set afire and thrown in the air.

I turned to look at the demon. If I was confused before, now I was bemused, bewildered, discombobulated, absolutely dumbfounded, and utterly flabbergasted. He stood on a patch of smoldering grass besides me, wearing a colorful shirt under bib-overalls, rubber boots, and of course, a tattered straw hat, which wouldn't stop creaking and fuming.

"Yeh know wher we are?" the demon said, and looked at me. His face still shifted constantly, save for his grin which moved in a whirlwind around his visage, holding a piece of straw between his flesh-ripping teeth.

I had learned to avoid his eyes, although they popped out of nowhere sometimes and the beginnings of my nightmares would start playing in my mind.

"A fi--field?"

He came an inch away from me. Sweat trickled down my temples as I looked away, hearing what remained of my shirt burn. "Dat is right, dat is. Yeh hav great wit. This a ferm, a mortal's ferm. If you tern around yeh will see the ferm, and the chicken."

Why was he trying, and failing to speak like a farmer? I shook the thought away, and turned. There was, indeed, a farm full of haystacks and chicken running free in the distance.

"Listen to meh," the demon said, and took a deep breath. "Put this between yer teeth." He handed me a piece of straw. "To know yer chicken, you need to believe yeh raised them. How weld yeh know how tasty they are if yeh didn't raise them?

Without hesitation, I obliged, wincing as the straw burned my tongue. I failed to see his logic, but I was already too deep into this and too scared to confront him, so I nodded. "Will we raise each breed of chicken so I can decide which is tastier?"

"Feck no. That weld take too long of a time, too leng of a time. We well fecus onle on de best breeds." His head darted to the side, and it was only then, when I heard a clucking noise. "Lek at dat!"

A chicken was coming straight toward us. Her eyes were obsidian black, her steps slow, and her clucking deep, and resonating. The demon rushed toward her, and the chicken's eyes turned normal again.

The animal fled clumsily across the field. The demon in farmer's attire followed.

I watched, the corner of my lips quirking up, marking the beginnings of an irrepressible laugh. It was a bizarre thing to witness. A hunched demon with its four arms stretched in front of him, leaving charred grass on its wake, chasing a chicken, which, by the way, was faster than him.

The chase continued for five minutes. Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. And then, the chicken stumbled upon my legs.

My eyes went wide with surprise. However, as I was stretching to capture her, a shrilling, echoing yelp, like the bray of a tortured donkey made my heart skip a beat.

"Catch it!" the demon yelled, and collapsed onto the--now smoldering--ground. "Catcha dat beast."

I did so with ease, yet my heart still thumped in my throat wildly. The chicken thrashed in my arms, but I managed to hold her in place and take her to the hyperventilated demon.

The demon held out his four arms. "Gev it to meh. I well show yeh somthin'."

I did, and I instantly regretted it. What did I expect? Of course he burned it to ashes.

The demon didn't grin anymore. His lack of motion made me believe he didn't intend to kill that poor animal.

After a startled minute, he grinned again. "See? Human chicken is soft, wek and tiny. It can't resest hellfire. Why weld yeh want a chicken who can't resest hellfire?"

I narrowed my eyes, and suppressed the protest forming in my mouth. "Out of curiosity, how many breeds of chicken will we see?"

He burst into an exaggerated, prolonged laughter, choking three times before putting an end to it. "Wes the fun if I spoil it? Remember, yeh always hav to be the farmer. Pretend, at lest. Here."

He stood up, swung a hand across the air as if catching something, and smoke fumed out of thin air. When it faded, a black robe and a frighteningly sharp scythe lay on his hand. "Dress ap, city boy. The next chicken, altheugh net so lithe, is a sight to beheld."

I felt as if a gelid finger was tracing my spine at a glacial pace. What in the hell had I gotten myself into? I drew a deep breath, and held out my hand for the demon to shake. "If we are doing this, I would like to know your name. Mine is Tom Supenjel."

The demon squinted, leaned over and smelled my hand. "Yeh caught a chicken. Yeh proved yerself worthy of me name."

I braced myself.

He shook my hand, and it burned like a motherfucker. "Ramses. Just Ramses," he said. Then, he opened the imaginary faucets once again, and a black portal appeared before us. "Onto the next adventur."

I put on my robe. It fitted perfectly. I also felt incredibly mighty when I held the scythe. It was heavy, but not so much that I couldn't handle it. Ramses, on the other hand, was still chewing on his piece of straw, looking at the sunset with hands on hip.

He took a deep breath.

And off we went.