Chapter 85: Hungry.. So Hungry 3
(Third Person POV)
Salvion wiped his hands on the stained apron he had found hanging in the corner earlier that day. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. As he listened to the last bubbling sounds from the pot, he caught sight of Charlie and Vaggie across the room.
Vaggie was pacing, her sharp eyes scanning the kitchen like a hawk, while Charlie leaned against the counter, relaxed but watchful, her silver hair catching what little light there was.
Salvion didn't know much about either of them yet, but he was certain of one thing: they were survivors, and in this place, that was all that mattered. Charlie seemed to be the more collected of the two almost regal in a way.
"Hey, Charlie, can I get a hand over here?" Salvion called out, lifting a heavy pot filled with what remained of the stew.
"Sure thing, newbie." Charlie pushed off the counter and moved to help. Her movements were smooth and efficient. Salvion noted how her eyes flicked to the door, always half-expecting trouble. He wondered what kind of life she had lived before ending up here, but in Hell, everyone seemingly had their secrets.
Vaggie, meanwhile, continued her pacing, occasionally glancing at them with a scowl. Clearly, she didn't trust him yet, but that was to be expected. Trust wasn't something you handed out freely in Hell.
As they set the pot on the counter, Salvion finally broke the silence. "So, how long have you two been doing this?"
Charlie shrugged, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Long enough. Vaggie and I have been around for a while now, trying to keep this place running. It's not easy, but we manage."
Vaggie snorted, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall. "Barely. And now we've got you to deal with." Her voice was sharp, almost accusing, as if she were waiting for Salvion to screw up.
Salvion met her gaze, refusing to flinch. "Look, I'm just trying to pull my weight. I didn't ask to be here, but since I am, I might as well make myself useful."
Vaggie's eyes narrowed. "Useful, huh? And what's in it for you, 'Salvion'?" She mockingly emphasized the name as if it were a joke. "Everyone here wants something, even if they don't admit it. So, what's your angle?"
Salvion thought about that for a moment. He hadn't really considered it before. He hadn't had an angle when he started cooking; he just wanted to survive. But now, after seeing the devils' reactions, after feeling the strange pull of this place, he realized there was more to it.
"I guess I just want to build something," he said slowly, surprising himself. "I spent my life with nothing to show for it. I have no family, friends, legacy, or memory of who I was. But here, I have a chance to make something out of myself, and if I can make things a little better, maybe that's enough."
Charlie looked at him, her expression thoughtful. Vaggie, however, wasn't convinced.
"You think you're gonna change things?" Vaggie's voice was full of disbelief, her eyes cold. "This is Hell, Salvion. Nothing changes here. The new Satans sure is shit are doing much. You either survive, or you don't, and all this talk about making things better… it's just wishful thinking."
Salvion didn't argue. He could see where she was coming from. So far, Hell wasn't precisely the place that encouraged himself and others. But that didn't mean he was going to give up. "Maybe you're right," he said, his tone even. "But that doesn't mean I won't try."
Charlie smiled faintly, though there was a hint of sadness in it. "You've got spirit, I'll give you that. But Vaggie's got a point. Hell has a way of chewing up the hopeful and spitting them out. If you want to make it here, you'll need more than good intentions. It would help if you had assets, connections, and, most importantly, power. No offense, but your demonic power reserves are low, even for a low class."
"I'm learning that," Salvion admitted, wiping sweat from his brow. "But everyone's got to start somewhere, right?"
"Yeah, well, just don't get too comfortable," Vaggie said, uncrossing her arms. "This place has rules, and if you don't figure them out quickly, you'll end up like the others. Lost. Or worse."
Salvion nodded, sensing that she wasn't just being harsh, she was warning him. Maybe there was more to Vaggie than just her tough exterior. Perhaps she had seen too many people come and go, too many souls crushed under the weight of this place. He couldn't blame her for being guarded.
"Fair enough," Salvion said, acknowledging her point. "But I'm still here, aren't I? So maybe I've got what it takes."
Vaggie didn't reply, but she didn't look away either. Instead, she studied him for a long moment, trying to gauge whether he was worth her time. Finally, she gave a curt nod.
"Fine. But don't expect me to bail you out if you mess up."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Salvion replied with a slight grin.
The tension in the room eased for a moment, and they lapsed into a comfortable silence. Charlie broke it with a soft chuckle. "You know, you're doing pretty well for a guy who just got here. Most folks are too busy freaking out to even think straight. I once saw a soul appear in the underworld and immediately tried to kill himself all over again. To him, he just seemed too much like his real life."
Salvion shrugged. "I guess I just figured there's no point in panicking. Hell's bad enough without literally losing your head over it and metaphorically, mind you."
"That's the spirit," Charlie said, her smile returning. "Stick around long enough, and you might even start to enjoy the place. Or at least, tolerate it."
Vaggie rolled her eyes. "Don't get too sentimental, Charlie. The last thing we need is another idealist getting themselves killed."
Charlie laughed, though there was an edge to it. "Come on, Vaggie. Let him have his optimism. It's not like it'll hurt anything. And don't think I haven't seen you eating away at our new chef's food. If I didn't know any better, it seems as if you never ate."
Vaggie didn't respond, but her expression softened just a fraction. It was clear that she wasn't wholly heartless despite her harsh words. Salvion could see that she cared in her way, even if she didn't want to admit it.
"Well, I appreciate the advice," Salvion said, feeling more at ease. "But what about you two? How'd you end up here, running this place?"
Charlie's eyes darkened slightly, and she glanced at Vaggie before answering. "It's a long story. Let's say we've been through a lot, and this is where we ended up. Keeping this little operation going is better than most of the alternatives."
Vaggie snorted. "Yeah, and it beats rotting in one of the lower pits. Trust me, you don't want to know what goes on down there."
Salvion shivered involuntarily. He could only imagine what horrors awaited in the deeper levels of Hell. He decided not to push the subject. "Fair enough. I'm just glad I'm not wandering around aimlessly anymore."
Charlie gave him a sympathetic look. "That's how it starts for most of us. Lost, confused, trying to figure out what the hell happened. But you're here now, so that's something."
Vaggie glanced at the clock on the wall, then back at Salvion. "Time's up. We need to close up for the night."
"Already?" Salvion asked, surprised. He hadn't realized how late it had gotten. He wasn't sure which days—or nights—blurred together in this place, making it hard to keep track of time.
"Yeah, the customers are gone, and we need to lock up before anyone gets any ideas," Vaggie replied, moving to the door.
Charlie followed but paused to look back at Salvion. "You did well today. If you keep this up, who knows? Maybe you'll find your place here after all."
Salvion nodded, feeling a tiny spark of pride. "Thanks, Charlie. I appreciate that."
She smiled warmly before heading out, leaving Salvion alone in the kitchen. As the door closed behind them, he was left with thoughts, the lingering scent of stew, and the distant echoes of the devils who had eaten their fill tonight.
Survive, Vaggie had said. That was the goal. But now, as Salvion cleaned up the last of the dishes, he couldn't help but think about what she had said earlier.
This place had rules; if he wanted to last, he needed to learn them. But more than that, he needed to figure out where he fit in this twisted, chaotic world.
He still had so many questions. Why did he have a physical body if he died? Did everyone that went to hell was just dropped here like yesterday's garbage no personal punishments they just arrived?
Salvion leaned against the counter, staring into the dim light that barely illuminated the kitchen. For now was his domain, but he knew it wouldn't be enough. Not forever. He needed more, and he wasn't just talking about food.
The thought of opening up his own restaurant just seems to appeal to him, not just to see the smiles on his customers faces. No, he wanted to in the revel in how much they would want his food.
He was still hungry, but it wasn't a hunger that could be sated with a bowl of stew. It was something deeper, something primal. A need for for simply more, not so philosophical as meaning. In life, he had drifted, always searching for something he could never quite grasp.
Now he could feel a power within him something just waiting to be called upon, but he was afraid to call upon it.
Salvion glanced at the door where Darius had stood earlier, his presence still looming large in Salvion's mind. That devil had seen something in him, something worth acknowledging. And that meant there was potential, a chance to rise above the misery surrounding them all.
"Hell's forever," he whispered to himself, repeating his earlier words. "Might as well make the most of it."
After a final look around the kitchen, Salvion decided that tomorrow would be different. He had found his footing, but now it was time to start climbing. He didn't know where this path would lead, but he was determined to see it through.
Salvion straightened up, his mind made up. He'd keep cooking, keep feeding the devils that stumbled through the door. But he'd also start thinking bigger, planning for what came next. If there were a way to carve out a life here, he would find it.
Since arriving in Hell, Salvion felt something within himself for the first time. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep him going. And in this place, that was more than most had.
With that, Salvion turned off the lights, letting the darkness swallow the kitchen. Tomorrow was another day, another chance to build something, to find a place in this twisted version of eternity.
And as he left the kitchen, one thought echoed: This was just the beginning.
But for now, he had to find a place to sleep, and realizing that he was quite literally in the shanty town, he turned right back around and decided to sleep in the kitchen.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone