Hell's Kitchen (DISCONTINUED)

3: An Eventful Night

New York. Cucina Inferni. What a town.

The scenery, the nightlife, the history... beautiful. Not the greatest city in the world- that goes to Venice, but I suppose I'm biased. Still, of all the cities to be trapped in while embodied with a sin, it's hardly a bad choice.

Maybe I should explain everything.

Hello. I'm Eve. Or Libidine. Or, as you might know me, Lust. That's right: one of the seven sins. Lust, Greed (Ben) Gluttony (Isaac), Wrath (Cain), Sloth (Stephen), Pride (Abigail), and Envy (Gabriel). That's us. The housemates. A version of the Kardashians that might be more entertaining- though it is quite funny to see American women in such a looks-obsessed state.

About a year ago, our lives were taken from us, ripped away by the Devil himself. Satan. Lucifer. Or as he likes to be called, 'Lu'. It's strange, but it means less pressure on the mind when discussing him. You can almost pretend He's a normal guy. Almost.

Basically, He decided we were far too sinful for this Earth, and took us away from our lives. Enhanced our wrongdoings; stuck us in a penthouse in the middle of Hell's Kitchen. How appropriate. That's the closest He gets to humour from what we saw. Always so serious. Just a hint of charm that always seemed deadly. Not that it's wrong to assume the King of Hell is someone to be reckoned with.

None of us are really sure why we're here. We've been taken from around the globe- I'm from Venice, Gabriel lived in England. I think Isaac used to live in Boston. Going by Cain's general mood, I have a feeling he's from a Republican state, and something tells me Stephen might be Canadian, but don't hold me to that. Abigail and Ben... no idea. Despite being together for so long, we don't know all the little details about each other. Our relationships are those of roommates- talking only when necessary. Sure, we'll hang out sometimes. Have film nights, hold those casual conversations where nothing is really said. Try to work out why we're here. The best idea we've got is that it's some form of experiment, but testing what?

Despite that, some of us are friends. Isaac and Ben get along well, probably because their sins are so alike. Surprisingly, I get along with Abigail. Even Stephen's been seen to have private chats with Gabriel, though I can say without doubt I know him best. He's the only one who trusted me with his happenings with Lu, which I swore to him I'd never tell another living soul. Aside from that, we're pretty distant. So if His plan was to create some kind of friendship among sins, He's massively failed. Though I'm likely forbidden from saying that. Best not to insult the ruler of the Underworld.

So, that's us. Trapped in New York, with strong feelings of immoral behaviour plus no idea what is going to come next. Well, until He returns. Until now.

It had been such a nice night too...

I was out on the town. Such a wonderful city, the least we could do was enjoy it. Hitting a local nightclub- a favourite of mine. I occasionally gathered clients here (Yes, those kind. Don't judge me. Lu hadn't provided us with funds, so we had to earn money somehow. Abigail has some secretarial role in a big company. Gabriel's an artist, designs logos for businesses. Means he doesn't have to socialise face to face. Ben studies at a local community college, Isaac washes dishes- closest he allows himself to get to the food. Granted, Stephen doesn't do much, but I think Cain works in customer service. My job just involves using my abilities to my advantage. Sometimes I question it, but look at me. I'm literally a human evil, might as well use it). Tonight, however, I was here for a bit of fun...

Didn't take me long to get inside- I have my methods. Once through the door, I began to scout the area for anyone I thought looked interesting. Him... or her, or her. Oh, yes. Sidling up to her, she immediately seemed captivated, which was kind of my fault. One advantage of our predicament is that we radiate a certain level of power that can influence others with our sin. Not by much, just enough to affect the brain. Mine's definitely the most useful, especially at times like this. After a few drinks and some well-practised lines, she was ready to leave, accompanied by none other than myself. Rarely did I head back to the apartment alone, generally only when the person was physically incapable of feeling anything back. There's only so far you can go; it's not like I can just snap my fingers and have two straight guys start making out. That would be ridiculous, even for the situation I'm in.

What a night. Amazing. What can I say? She was adventurous to say the least. Quite grabby. Very impressed by the penthouse. Her name was... oh, I can't remember. It isn't like it matters anyway. A quick (but detailed) goodbye, then off she went, never for me to see again.

Exactly the way I liked it.
That was my morning. The end of something great. Had to be spoiled by that phone call.

Stephen had picked it up, which was probably the most shocking thing about all of this. Turned out to be Lu, who after a year of silence had decided to visit, check on us. Can't think what to expect of it. What does he want to see?  Nevertheless, here we are. Trying to remember all the Latin he made us use- his idea of a joke. Thinking of how to prepare for his arrival. Nobody knew what we should do. Gabriel blocking us all out, locking himself in his room while trying to deal with the trauma, not letting anyone in. Not even me. For the moment, I gave up trying. Eventually he'll-

Silence. The click of a bolt.

Immediately, I run from the balcony, past Isaac in his chair. Past Stephen, still sprawled in the hall. To the cracked open door, where he lies. Headphones dangling across his chest, hands clenched on his wrists, a shell-shocked face. I sit awkwardly next to him.

"Gabriel-"

"Why," he whispers, unmoving. "He used me. Tortured me. Took me from my home, everything I knew. Trapped me in this place. It's not fair. All I went through, He..." He stops. Ragged breaths. Hands move. I barely dodge the uncoordinated swing downwards onto the bed, almost smashing my hand.

"IT'S NOT FAIR!" He screams. All I can do is nod. I reach for him; he smacks me away.

"Just go," he speaks, a single tear rolling down his face. "I want to be alone. I'll come out later. I promise. I need more time."

I leave, of course. Left with an unanswerable question:

Why did you unlock the door?