The landing was softer than Tara had been expecting for how long she had spent falling. Quite literally plummeting into the unknown.

She was surrounded by spongy dirt, its texture somehow both thick and light at the same time. There was only one direction she could move in and that was forwards, heading towards a dim glow at the end of the tunnel she had been deposited in. As she had no choice, she followed it, barely short enough not to scrape her scalp on the low ceiling.

In the room the tunnel opened into, a group of people jerked around upon her entrance. Their eyes burned into her with an assortment of curiosity, bewilderment and horror. The colours of their irises spread across a spectrum that contained only black, white and red. But that was the least shocking trait that Tara was faced with. Horns, curling or twisting out of foreheads, wings of varying sizes and all damaged in some way, and the bones in their faces were built in the correct formation but severely distended as though they had scraped through an entire contouring palette for just one look.

No one moved. No one spoke. The lack of reaction did nothing to reduce the fear bubbling under her skin.

“H-hello?” Tara stepped further into the room, straightening properly now that she did not fear bumping her head. It was circular, the earthen walls embedded with torches that flickered with orange light.

No one responded.

She spoke louder. “I’m looking for Azazel. Do you know him?” Surely, she reasoned, he can’t have passed through here long before her. Did the passing of time alter in Hell? Tara really needed to grill her friends more about the underworld they came from.

Heads tilted, looking amongst themselves and murmuring words in a language Tara could barely register as noise, let alone understand as meaning anything.

She tried again, this time just saying Shawn and Ava’s demonic names in the hopes someone, anyone, would recognise them. “Zibiah? Azazel?”

Stepping out from behind a table littered with papers torn, rumpled, and curling at the corners, was a feminine figure who seemed to glide upon long slender legs. Their horns rose up out of their head, long and thin, adding an extra foot of sharp black height to their already tall form.

Tara flinched back when they threw a hand forward and grabbed her by the back of her sweater collar.

“H-hey-”

Their grip was unshakeable as they dragged her towards one of the many doors leading out of the room. Tara pressed her sneakers into the ground, desperately fighting to hold her ground.

“I need your help! Azazel is my friend! Zibiah is my partner! I don’t know Imogen’s real name but she’s my friend, too!”

The door was kicked open brusquely and Tara shoved through with just as much force. By the time Tara had spun on her heel to make another attempt at pleading with the tall person who had finally released her, the door was shut. She gave the handle a rattle but all she got in return was a clanking noise. She took a flustered step backwards, taking in her surroundings. The door she had just been thrown out of was set into a mound of mud that did not look nearly tall or wide enough to house the room that she had just left.

How could they not even give her a chance to explain? She needed help; she couldn’t navigate this place herself. This place. This place that logically she knew was Hell, but her body had yet to register the horror of this fact.

With a slow pivot, what she had first been expecting to be the great outdoors that she had been shoved out into, was in fact a dark cavern that expanded beyond what her human eyes could see. The ceiling appeared to be balanced upon pillars of jagged rock growing out of the ground. On the nearest one, Tara could just about see some symbols carved into it. It was somehow simultaneously overwhelmingly huge and empty, but also claustrophobic with the lack of light and low ceiling. Without needing to travel to the very edge of the space, she could tell instinctively that she was trapped in. It made every breath feel just a little more strained than her panic was already making them.

Eyes shimmered from behind pillars, from underneath motionless cloaks blending into the darkness, and from half-open doors that had materialised out of craggy pockets in the walls. One or two began to approach, their eyes scraping over her from under their many layers of clothing. A shiver prickled at Tara’s spine, all the way up to the back of her ears. They were getting uncomfortable close, only a few feet between her and some of the most daring investigators. With a lack of horns, wings or skin with a blue hue, she could understand why she would draw attention. She had no option to deflect their gaze though, she was also the most brightly dressed person in the vicinity in her lavender sweater and white frilled smock dress. Although she was now sporting a multitude of muddy stains from her trip down the hell chute.

The collection of curious onlookers grew, surrounding her like a swarm. She couldn’t tell if it was intentional or if they were genuinely so intrigued by her that they couldn’t help but approach and congeal into one another, creating a wall between her and open air.

“E-excuse me!” She yelped, shuffling on the spot to keep them all in her field of vision. “I’m- I’m looking for my friend-”

A hand grazed her arm and she stumbled back with a gasp.

“P-please don’t touch me-”

The wall of demonic beings squeezed inwards, all reaching for her and drinking her in with their black, red and white eyes.

“Stop! Stop that!”

Shawn burst through the crowd with a furious expression. At least, her rescuer resembled Shawn. A very angry Shawn. If Shawn developed a pale blue complexion and horns that curl back on themselves to point behind him. The pointed ends of his brows were still there, even in demon form.

“What the hell happened?” he snapped.

Tara stammered, “S-something grabbed my foot!” Partially true. “It pulled me through the floor, and I landed here.” Definitely true. “It wasn’t my fault!” Absolutely not true. She was trembling, struggling to get her words out through her shock at how quickly she had been surrounded.

Shawn barked at the group, dispersing them instantly with his strange words. One figure remained, standing a step back from Shawn and apparently unperturbed by his aggressive display.

“Did you approach the tear?” Shawn asked gruffly.

“The- the what?”

“The tear, the opening, it’s a rip between the tiers that layer over each other. Layers of Hell at the bottom, a single layer of Earth in the middle and a ton of Heaven layers above.”

“Yes, the cake analogy, I remember now,” she said.

“Tara!” He growled into his hands, scrubbing at his face in what was either frustration or worry, Tara could not tell. It was not like Shawn to be anything but bright and cheerful.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I wasn’t trying to- I would never want to cause more problems, I-”

“Tara, you are in so much danger right now. You cannot even imagine it.” Shawn spoke gravely, taking her shoulders in his hands and staring into her eyes. “And every second that you’re here you are endangering anyone who comes into contact with you.”

She breathed, “I really am sorry.”

Shawn sighed. “I know, kid. And you’re fucking lucky that you landed in an escape bunker, I watched you get dragged out.”

“I thought it would just take me to the same place as you, I thought they would know yo-”

“Portals aren’t predictable, Tara. You can’t guarantee the same trip twice.”

“I’m sorry… again. Will they tell anyone about me?”

“No. Unwritten rule in the underground organisations - you keep your mouth shut and you stay out of other people’s way. We are all trying to escape, or at the very least survive, and no one is going to fuck up anyone else’s chances by lingering in others’ business. I’m surprised they didn’t just boot you back through the portal, they wouldn’t want anything to do with human nonsense.”

“They did remove me from the premises pretty quickly.”

The person behind him stood patiently through their conversation although his obsidian eyes slid over the area around them whenever Tara snuck a glance at him. She didn’t want to dwell on what he was looking out for. His skin was a deep indigo, the kind of rich colour her mother would faun over for a gown.

Shawn stepped back to speak with them. The rolling words of their language slurred together. Tara could barely catch a word in what was obviously an introduction or explanation, but she was fairly certain she heard her name.

Shawn turned back to her. “This is Malakbel; he’s fallen.”

“He’s an angel?” Tara breathed, scanning Malakbel with almost rude curiosity as she searched for signs of… well, she wasn’t really sure. Holiness? Cherub-like cuteness? Anything that would give him the ability to fly? Malakbel was not cute, his features were straight and stoic, his face long. He did not have wings that Tara could see. His tall frame was covered only with a leather-looking vest and very well-fitted trousers of the same material. She didn’t want to think about what animals roamed hell, let alone demons and angels skinning them to make clothes. Perhaps the underworld had its own version of faux-fur and faux-leather. She hoped so.

“Yes, but he got cast down.”

“Is it impolite for me to ask why?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, sorry.”

Malakbel tilted his head and his long tendrils of black hair slid over his form like a waterfall caught in slow-motion. There was something mesmerising about him, a peaceful patter of cleansing rain that landed on her face when she looked at him. Her limbs felt heavier, not just fatigue any more, a release of tension. She could not remember why she had been so tense to start with. Her clothes were waterlogged, pulling her down.

Shawn was speaking. Not to her. In that strange language that never seemed to have pauses between words or sentences. Just a continuous stream of noise.

“-Zibiah-”

Tara heaved a sudden deep breath, freeing herself from the invisible puddle she had been allowing herself to sink into. She stumbled back and Malakbel snatched her by the lavender sweater, keeping her from dropping to the ground.

Ava was why she was tense. Ava being captured was why she needed to remain tense. She couldn’t let this fallen angel and his relaxation pool drag her under, she couldn’t forget why she was here.

“He-he was trying to turn my brain to goo!”

Shawn frowned and said something in the rambling language to Malakbel. The taller man shrugged innocently and offered a short reply.

“You need to go back to where you came from, he was going to put you into a trance for the journey so that you don’t see anything else that you shouldn’t or get any more distressed than you already are.”

Tara yelped, “I’m distressed because we are standing around while awful, evil things could be happening to the woman I love! I will remain distressed until we find her!”

Shawn sighed, equal parts exhausted and hopeless. “Look, we’re doing the best we can, but it looks like they managed to keep this massive surge of crackdowns under wraps for a long time. We weren’t prepared for the amount of agents they’ve unleashed on Earth in a very short space of time. All the escape organisations and agents are reeling. We’ve notified them of Ava’s capture, and they will do their best to help her when they can.” He gave her a look that was most likely intended to be comforting. A look of sincere apology and resolution to help. “They can’t organise an entire prison break for one person, I’m sorry, Tara.”

But Tara was not going back to Earth without a fight, be it with the forces of Hell or Shawn apparently. “But why do I have to go back? If the organisations can’t spare people to help I can-”

“When someone enters or exits through those portals it leaves traces, like footprints. There are numerous facilities she could have been shipped to for sentencing and punishment, too many for us to check in with. They will catch up to us eventually if you stay down here, so you must go back. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

The hopelessness pulled Tara’s heart to her feet, but that didn’t mean she could give up.“But-”

“I’m not taking buts for an answer either.”

Malakbel made a huffing sound, his dark eyes still patrolling the perimeter.

Shawn replied with a soft sigh and then murmured something.

Malakbel responded just as quietly.

“What did Malakbel say?” Tara asked, uncaring any longer if it was rude to ask.

“He said little humans should do as they’re told.”

“Tell him I thought he was cool, but I don’t any more,” said Tara childishly.

Shawn relayed the message in their slurring, sliding sounds. The long-haired man wrestled his eyes away from darting about the area around them to settle on Tara’s face and give her a look of barely concealed frustration. This time when he spoke, he directed it straight at her, even if she couldn’t understand.

Shawn translated, “he says he prefers the little human keep her focus on staying alive rather than the temperature of his temperament.”

Tara groaned quietly and picked at her sweater anxiously. She needed to do something physical. Expending mental energy didn’t save lives. Worrying didn’t solve problems. She needed to help. If she stood around any longer, doing nothing to help her lover, her skin would begin to itch with the urge to move. “How quickly will they trace me? The bad people, I mean.”

Shawn hesitated before answering. “A few hours, maybe, why?”

“Can we please just search one place? Check one facilit-”

“Tara! I am serious. For fuck’s sake.” Shawn snapped, sending a jolt of shock through Tara and a burning to her face. “Please just try to think of someone other than Ava for just a moment. You would be putting yourself in danger, you would be putting me and my h- my friend in danger. We do our best to save those we can, but no self-sacrifice. No suicide missions.”

Tara sniffed, pulling back the tears and snot as hard as she could.

“Fine,” she whispered.

His tone softened. “I know it hurts, trust me. Give me a second to say goodbye to Malakbel and we can go find the nearest unguarded tier tear.” He squeezed her shoulder and nodded Malakbel to follow him a few steps away.

Tara did her best to give them their privacy while they spoke, heads close together and words fluttering in the space left between. She especially did her best to find something to lock her eyes on to when she noticed Malakbel taking Shawn’s face in his hands, pulling him up the last couple of inches between them. The pairing of their two shades of blue skin reminded Tara of the summer sky at four in the morning, the sun approaching but not yet leaking orange or yellow tones into view. She did not directly witness the kiss, but silence fell for a few seconds. She held her gaze on an interestingly-shaped rock.

Tara jumped when Shawn brushed past her with a brusque, “Let’s go.”

Malakbel had melted into the darkness.