The woman slipped inside the restroom through a ceiling vent and locked the door, conspicuous enough that no one outside noticed. She removed her hands from the pockets. Straightening her back, she took herself in the mirror. Long blonde hair fell to her waist. The hair tie that had held it in a high ponytail was nowhere to be seen, probably fallen somewhere in the vents. She almost smiled at the sight of the thick strands, beautiful even as the ends were crimson with stained blood. I can keep it for a bit longer.
Carefully and precisely, having done this task countless times, her fingers deftly removed the blue contacts and mask, pulled the tank top off her lithe body, and she changed into a flowing dress, white and pure, modest, even as it cinched almost painfully at the waist. Finally, sadly, she pulled her wig off, revealing relatively sick-looking light brown hair. It reached her chest, in thin wavy strands that made her heart clench every time she saw it. Pulling her cotton makeshift mask off, she splashed water on her face, scrubbing off the blood that had seeped through. Droplets of water clung to her long eyelashes that framed boring brown eyes.
She examined herself in the mirror one last time before exiting the room, hating having to switch back to herself, back to her duties. Pausing at the threshold, one hand on the doorknob, she snapped her fingers and all the materials disappeared, having teleported to her humble abode. Another snap, and she had appeared at the entrance of the Heavenly Halls, the only figment of her magic she used publicly.
As she walked through the hallways, she made sure to keep her chin bowed ever so slightly, her brown eyes wide and doe-shaped. The shape of innocence, she could hear passerby whisper with awe as they curtsied. An epitome of feminism.
At the words, she wanted to clench her jaw, but forced a small smile onto her lips instead. She hated how bare her face felt, but it was a mask she had to put on.
"Excuse me?" She spoke to a guard, making her voice soft and lilting. He looked down at her, her straight back and sweet smile. "I wish to speak to the High Seraphim." She hesitated, looking down at the floor in a play of nervousness. It wasn't completely fake, though. Her heart beat loud enough for her to hear it. "Only if she is available, of course."
The guard smiled, having bought her act. "Of course, my lady," he said smoothly. He held out an elbow to escort her. "May I?"
She smiled softly and took his offered arm. They walked through the halls and she kept her smile on. This was the easiest role she had played. Shy, kind, thoughtful. All were traits that she carried every day. Traits she was made to possess.
Traits she wished she actually had.
They reached the large ordained doors, and the guard opened the door, bowing courteously for her to walk in. She stepped inside and made sure to smile in thanks to the guard, who beamed.
Inside the room sat Sera, who raised her eyebrows as she saw her. She had always envied the seraphim, but they were both chained in their own ways. "I was not expecting your company today," she said tersely.
The woman made sure to giggle. "Oh, Sera. We made an appointment for a tea party last month, did we not?" Wide eyes, hands in the front. "Unless you are unable."
"No, no." Sera rubbed the skin in between her eyes and sighed. "I am sorry for my attitude. It seems that I am rather stressed from recent affairs."
The woman smiled and slipped into the opposite chair. She snapped her fingers, and the abundance of papers arranged themselves. In the now free space, two teacups, a teapot and a plate of cookies appeared. "Have some tea. It's chamomile."
Sera smiled. "Thank you." The woman bowed her head slightly as the teapot floated and filled the dainty teacups.
She picked up a teacup carefully, knowing that the china was rather fragile. The room felt suffocating, and it wasn't just the fabric of the dress closing in on her ribs and constricting her breathing. She hated all of this, the etiquette and careful words. The manners both had to follow and the countless expectations that were to be balanced on her shoulders.
"If I am not intruding," she said cautiously, after they both had taken a sip, Sera humming approvingly, "You can always talk to me." Don't seem too eager. "To ease your mind off the stress, of course."
Sera coughed. "I'm afraid the topics are rather... sensitive."
"I'm sure I can handle it." She said firmly. "Anything I can do to help you feel better."
"Er..." Sera took a deep breath. "It seems that sinners can be redeemed, of sorts."
Her eyes widened with panic but she hid it by taking another small sip. "Are you quite sure? I assumed you had banished the thoughts of Hell's princess."
Sera's jaw clenched. "It is hard to do so, when Emily refuses to let me forget."
"How is she?" The woman pouted her lips and placed a hand over Sera's. "I know the two of you have been facing some turmoil."
"She's my sister and I love her," Sera admitted. "But I must admit that she does not fully understand the politics of Heaven."
"She's young. She'll learn." She glanced down at her lap to calm her racing thoughts, but then noticed the blood coating the underside of her fingernails. It wasn't likely that Sera had seen it, especially in her disgruntled state, but she still conspicuously snapped her fingers and summoned a napkin to wipe it off.
"Yes, yes. But she has been rather foolhardy after... Can I trust you to keep a secret?"
She tried to hide the eagerness in her voice. "Of course you can."
"A sinner was redeemed about a week ago," Sera whispered, eyes large.
The woman's eye twitched but she covered it with a gasp. "What do you plan on doing?"
"I'm not sure. Of course, I took care of some paperwork to reinstate him as a citizen of Heaven, but the next step is hard to determine. What if the princess of Hell is right?"
"It's most likely just a blunder," the woman reassured her, even as her heartbeats sped up. She could hear them thundering in her ears and wondered how the seraphim in front of her did not.
"Yes, well... There's other news as well." Sera bit her lip. "Adam isn't dead."
What? She felt like snapping. When she was told he was gone, she felt almost relieved. And now... now what? It wasn't like it would change anything in her life, not really.
Whatever emotions were on her face, Sera misread them. "I'm sorry. I know this must be a lot."
"Yes," she managed, swallowing another sip of tea. "That's... where is he?"
"In Hell, it appears." Sera sighed. "It is quite hard to garner permission to retrieve him, especially if he was reborn as a sinner, which is what the case seems to be."
The woman swallowed again. "Do you believe that the sinner and... him are connected?"
"I am not sure, but both the sinner and Emily are nowhere to be seen. Saint Peter refuses to speak, but I believe that they have gone to Hell." Sera bit into a biscuit. "These are heavenly, by the way." The woman smiled to herself, having laced the cookies with a slight truth serum.
"Thank you," she thanked her. "They're a special recipe."
"Very delicious."
The woman pressed a hand to her chest, the image of fragility. "I may take your leave. This is a lot to take in and I'm afraid I need some time to get my thoughts in order."
"Of course." Sera stood up. "It was nice to talk to you again. You certainly possess something that gives me hope for Heaven."
She said something else, but the woman couldn't hear her over the roaring in her own ears. Among the chaos in her mind, one thought stood out. I have to go to Hell.
A/N: Woah, I can't believe season 2 is really over. Well, it was over when I posted the last chapter, but it feels so much more real right now. This is the first story I've ever finished, and it feels amazing.
This is just the prologue for Season 3, and to access the future chapters, you'll have to go to the other published story on my account! Can't wait to show you guys what we have in store :)
Btw, this is the link to the season 3 story: https://www.wattpad.com/story/375022335-hazbin-hotel-season-3
