God's Gone AWOL

[8] Jailbreak!

Hell.

Deep within the dark walls of Hell's civil-justice building, Smythe was sitting on the floor of her cell. There were no iron bars in the jail of Hell, of course. The walls were made of thick, magic-proof glass and the door of the cell had to be opened through a special lock. Everything was lit up by bright LED lights, making it impossible for any movement to go undetected. There was no toilet as demons didn't need to use such luxuries, but there was a singular bed in the corner for all bed-ly purposes. There wasn't much thought put in to the design of the cells as they were rarely used, so overall they were quite minimal.

Smythe was sitting with her legs crossed and her eyes closed. She was dressed in a plain, modest black jumpsuit. In addition to this, her feet were bare and her hair was uncharacteristically messy. Two power-restricting bracelets hung on her wrists, designed to discourage any dangerous behavior —although, everyone knew that Smythe wasn't anything like the other prisoners Hell oversaw. An air of tranquil energy swirled around her, rising and falling with each peaceful breath. Though her state of meditation was still very light, she was still rooted and focused in the silence of everything.

Somewhere off in the distance, a door opened, and a voice echoed from far away.

"Alright, you're finally allowed to go in,"

With a light slam, the door closed again. Then came the sound of heavy footsteps and the rustling of a paper bag. All was quiet for a moment before another voice suddenly rang out, this one infinitely louder than the last.

"Smythe!"

Xander's call shattered the soft silence of the room, causing Smythe to slowly open her bright green eyes. His hair was also a little messy and there were bags under his eyes, but he certainly looked a lot better than Smythe. —He wasn't in prison, anyway. As soon as she saw the demon standing on the other side of the glass, a strange look of nervousness flashed across her face. She had never looked at Xander in such a way before.

"Xander," she replied, apprehensively.

"Are you alright??"

"I'm fine?"

It was clear that she was struggling internally, unsure how she should react in the presence of her friend. Xander had never been the best at expressing himself, so it was hard to tell if his friendly demeanor was genuine, or if it was an act of extreme passive-aggression. Either way, he plowed on with his words, behaving himself nicely and making Smythe uncomfortable to the point of fidgeting.

"You would not believe how long I've been waiting to see you!" he said, "Wingo's been so closed off about this whole situation. It's been nearly impossible to get anything done,"

He reached into the paper bag and dug out a small brown takeout box and a set of chopsticks. Then he moved over towards the item drop-box and slid the pair inside. Immediately, the entire room was filled with the warm smell of spice.

"Here, I got some food for you while I was out," he continued, "It's curry. Bug free, especially for you,"

But Smythe didn't move from her position on the floor. Her eyebrows were still knit as she gave her friend a puzzled onceover.

"You... brought me food?"

"Yeah? Why wouldn't I? I doubt you like our communist prison food all that much,"

His big black eyes were so round and innocent— there was no way he was faking it. Xander wasn't that good at acting.

"You're not... mad at me?" Smythe asked.

"Why would I be mad at you?"

She ran a nervous hand through her hair.

"Back in my office, you said that controlling souls was 'fundamentally wrong' and that the culprit 'needed to be stopped'," she told him.