Hazbin Hotel: Sins and Second Chances

Chapter 10

Zack didn't get much sleep last night. He thought the nightmares back home were bad, but here in Hell, it felt like someone had turned the dial up to eleven. His past sin, his darkest moments, replayed before his eyes like a movie projected in front of him. It was relentless, unmerciful, as if Hell itself wanted to remind him of every mistake he ever made. Every time he would close his eyes, feeling himself drift to sleep, it would start right back to where it started.

Was it like this for everyone? Was this what sinners faced for eternity? He didn't know, but the longer it went on, the more he began to regret agreeing to stay.

'There ain't no rest for the wicked'

That quote felt a bit closer to home now.

Eventually, what passed for morning in Hell arrived. The sky outside his window shifted from a deep, dark red to... a slightly lighter shade of dark red. An eerie cast of an eternal bloody twilight where the sun would never rise, and a sky that would never turn blue. Zack stared at it, sitting on the edge of his bed as he tried to collect his thoughts. From the time he arrived to him waking up, it must have only been maybe 10 hours. Has it only been that long? It felt like days.

With a heavy sigh, he stood up and decided to take a shower. The bathroom light flickered several times before buzzing to life, casting a dim glow over the room. The shower, attached to an old-fashioned clawfoot tub, looked ancient. When he turned the faucet, a stream of brown, foul-smelling water gushed out.

He wrinkled his nose in disgust and quickly shut it off. "So much for a shower." He muttered.

Trying the faucet in the sink, more brown water would greet him. He thought maybe running it for a while would cause it to clear, but after a minute or so and initially gagging by the horrid stench, he shut it off.

He felt disheartened. He couldn't even take a God damn shower. Hell really was a place of torment.

A sudden thought crossed his mind. Did he even need to shower? He was a soul, after all. Did souls need to clean themselves? He sniffed his shirt, then under his arm. He blinked, smelling himself again. He must have woken up 20 times last night, each one making him feel sweatier than the last, yet he didn't stink. Or maybe the stench from the water burned his sense of smell. Or perhaps hygiene wasn't necessary here. He'd have to ask Charlie about that later. Though he was expecting the Princess of Hell to recoil in disgust by whatever odor he may unknowingly have, but that was a problem if the problem arose.

Deciding it wasn't worth the effort, Zack got dressed and made his way out of his room. He headed down the long hallway towards the elevators, his mind still spinning with the events of the previous night. Between having fallen through a burning ring of fire, meeting the daughter of Lucifer and seeing the literal landscape of Hell outside his hotel room, Zack wasn't sure if he was ready to face any more surprises today. Though with how eerily quiet it was, he couldn't help but think something was about to pop out in front of him and shout 'BOO!'

As if the timing couldn't be more impeccable, a high-pitched, manic laughter echoed down the hall, making him stop in his tracks. His heart raced as he scanned the dimly lit corridor. The laughter was strange, playful, but with an edge of something sinister.

Then, without warning, something small and fast darted past him, a gust of wind following in its wake. Zack jumped, his breath catching in his throat. Before he could even process what had happened, the thing came back, skidding to a stop in front of him.

Standing before him was a small, cyclops demon with a wide grin. She had a single large eye with a yellow iris and a hot-pink sclera, and sharp teeth that gave her an unsettling appearance, despite her otherwise cutesy, 1950's house wife attire. She held a duster in her hand, and her red-pink bobbed hair bounced slightly as she tilter her head, eyeing Zack with intense curiosity.