Interlude 5

  échappé?

  Manager Faun’s life was a rollercoaster; things were always up and down. Fate forced the f?ling to manage one of the many offices that kept the System running, and he hated it. Adding to his stress, every time he thought he had escaped the scrutiny of Tanya the Administrator, she concocted some new reason to return, ostensibly to keep an eye on him.

  A year and a day had passed on Terra Torus since Faun first discovered the anomaly named Elijah. From Faun’s perspective, it had been a little over sixty-four years; one minute on the planet was roughly equivalent to an hour in his part of Hell.

  The manager was nervous. Two thirds of a Hell Cycle had passed; only another thirty years and there would be a mandatory audit. The higher-ups would cull any managers who’d had enough time to gain a foothold; better for them to nip any potential problems in the bud.

  To make things worse, it was about time for Administrator Tanya to make another appearance, and he was losing control of his cohort. Faun missed the young demonlings who did what he said and wouldn’t dare think for themselves; now that they had grown up, there was no end of problems.

  Someone had been undermining him at every turn. Faun assigned a team to fix a bug, only to find out there was no bug; the orders he had been given were doctored. The time wasted put his department behind on their real work and he was forced to spend three sleepless nights setting things right before anyone noticed.

  Not long after, the manager marked a new patch as complete, only to get yelled at by his superiors because the code he knew worked and had tested vigorously didn’t do a thing. Someone had tampered with his work.

  He couldn’t even get a new infernal brewer without every cup it made tasting slightly like mouldy mushrooms.

  Worst of all, Faun couldn’t pinpoint who was behind it. He had already offered up three sacrifices, who he suspected to be the mastermind, to his boss, but his work continued to be derailed. If he killed off any more underlings, people would start to become suspicious – not to mention the lack of demon power would affect their output. If he was unable to solve the current thorn in his side before Tanya—

  “There you are!” a maliciously cheerful voice exclaimed as its owner used a thick, rubber-soled boot to kick down the door that separated Faun’s modular office from the Planes of Hell.

  “Here I am?” The manager half said, half asked, pointing at himself and gulping audibly.

  “A little birdy just informed me,” Tanya began without preamble, “that you won’t be able to meet this week's deadline.” As she said this, she wrapped an arm around the shoulders of a blue, bird-like demon twice her height, dragging the unassuming creature unwillingly into the conversation.

  Wisely, the demon, whose name Faun failed to recall, kept their beak shut. It didn’t matter; silence wasn’t an option.

  “Isn’t that right, little birdy?” Tanya prompted, slapping the member of Faun’s team hard on the back and gesturing for them to speak.

  “I—Well—You see—” The demon squawked, trying and failing to keep their cool.

  Faun narrowed his eyes at the creature. “You're the one who's been causing so many problems?” he asked as the pieces clicked into place. The bird-demon was never on manager Faun’s radar; he was one of the few who was able to do their job quietly and effectively, never causing a stir or holding up the team. The revelation caused delight to fill Faun, until he remembered that Tanya had been the one to find the traitor; this was just the ammunition she needed to end him.

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  “You know, today is a wonderful day,” Tanya pronounced, showing far too many teeth. She plunged her hand effortlessly into the demon’s back, withdrawing their still-beating heart. “I finally have proof of your subordinate's disloyalty. I could kill you, right here and now, and no one would question it,” she said as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

  “But you won’t?” Faun asked nervously, catching the insinuation in her words. If it came to a fight, he would be dead before he could blink. Running now might be an option; his f? magics would likely be enough to get him out onto the Planes, but he would be hunted down sooner or later.

  “I won’t,” Tanya confirmed. Just as Faun was about to let his guard down, he noticed the malicious gleam that still shone behind her cruel eyes.

  “You want something then?” Faun asked, straightening his back and looking the Administrator squarely in the eye. Negotiation was a battlefield in which he excelled.

  “You’ve cost me so much time. I just want one tiny thing in return.”

  “And that is?”

  “For you to suffer!” With those words, Tanya’s ear-splitting grin exploded into manic laughter. Before Faun could react, a translucent, blue shield appeared, separating the f?ling and the administrator from the rest of the office.

  The crowd of demons who had gathered round to watch the ousting of their leader, eager to take his place, were startled when Tanya threw a glowing red ball through the shield. Some watched the sphere dumbly as it clinked across the floor. Some of the wiser demons began to run, but it was already too late. In less time than it takes to blink, the room was engulfed in bright blue flames.

  Faun watched on mutely as, for the second time, every member of his department except him was roasted alive. Sounds mixed together: Tanya’s insane laughter, the screams of the nearly dead, and the sizzling of flesh. The ex-manager barely noticed as something smacked him on the back of the head, plunging his mind into darkness.

  The f?ling awoke with an outburst. Kicking and screaming like a tantruming toddler. How was this possible? He had worked so hard just to stay alive. How could it have all gone so wrong?!

  Faun finally stopped thrashing about when he realised – he wasn’t dead. Not yet, at least.

  Looking around desperately, Faun found he was in a cell of some sort. It was carved from rough basalt, nearly as big as his entire office, and far too hot. Sweat dripped down from the faun’s horned head and onto the scratched and tarnished floor.

  In front of him stood a massive, wooden door, three times his height and half that again in width. It caught his attention immediately; wood was rare in the Planes. There were few trees that were strong enough to grow in the inhospitable environment of Hell, and those that did were invariably expensive – far too expensive to spend on a jail cell for the likes of him.

  That got the half-goat, half-man thinking. There weren’t any jails in Hell; that meant… Faun quickly pulled up his System window. His managerial privileges were still in place, and they allowed him to access a map. It was as he had feared.

  The doors opened wide, blinding Faun. Reeling from shock, he failed to fight against the invisible hand that pushed him out of his cell and face first onto the sand. The air was alive with the cries of bloodthirsty demons and the jeers and laughs of those who had seen Faun’s entrance.

  The f?ling blinked sand out of his eyes and looked up. He turned impossibly pale when his sight confirmed what he already knew to be true – he was in the Colosseum! Stands filled with demons of all shapes and sizes surrounded Faun, and he couldn’t help but feel small. He tried to gulp, but his mouth was too dry.

  Faun tried to tune out the noise of the crowd as his attention rested on the door opposite him. Whatever came forth would spell his end. This is what Tanya meant when she said she wanted him to suffer. Fights in the arena were never over quickly; demons liked to see as much pain as possible.

  The iron-bound door across the pit started to quiver in time with Faun’s nervous knees. It split open. The f?ling’s eyes darted around the arena, looking for anything, anything whatsoever. There were no instruments, there were no weapons, and there were no bodies. This was the first fight of the night; he didn’t stand a chance.

  A great roar momentarily silenced the crowd. Whatever beast was behind the still-opening door bashed against it, eager to start the fight. The audience cheered. Faun shook like a leaf in the wind; he was about to die!

  Plunging his head in the sand and pretending that none of this was real seemed the only sane thing to do. Just as he was about to act on that desperate thought, a ray of hope shone down upon him. A giant, three-headed dog broke out onto the arena at the same time as a notification appeared in front of Faun.

  Attention:

  Monster of the Race: Elijah X has reached Trial number: 999,990