Inferno of God

2: Which contains a great deal of discussion about agriculture

Due to its strangely small size compared to Heaven, and especially Earth, the layout of Hell was quite simple, as it had been created on a whim by God specifically for Satan and Baal's casting. In the center, there sat a town with rows upon rows of cabins for the souls placed under their wings. They were spread evenly across two different sections, one created for farming, and the other for a forest where additional resources could grow naturally, and in the center of it all, was the manor.

It was much smaller than the name would suggest, in fact, the residents called it 'The Manor' simply for the aesthetic, it was actually only slightly larger than an average house. The souls were permitted to wander it's first floor as they pleased, which contained a library, waiting room, and cork message board, though none, save the library, piqued the interest of many, and there were usually only one or two visitors daily. Going upstairs, however, required either Satan or Baal as an escort, and it was used for more private matters, such as meetings and reincarnations, as well as the settings for their private needs.

Littered around the town, were three other public buildings, a workhouse, meant for woodwork and the making of clothing, the pigpens, and, the largest of the four, a simple warehouse the size of a barn placed by the side of the crop fields, where all the supplies and crops were stored, and since it was a fine day to harvest, almost all of Hell was positioned near that building.

Satan and Baal rose early that morning to help, and, whilst delivering their first bushels of apples to the warehouse, were greeted by two older men, bickering amongst each other the way only someone of that age could.

To tell the truth, it was more of a shout, actually, "Lord Satan," said one of the men, waving his hand in the air, "tell me I'm not going crazy and something is seriously wrong with this produce." He glared at the other as he spoke.

Satan nodded in agreement, pulling an apple from the basket for observation, "As a matter of fact, I was just thinking the same thing." So he and his assistant sat down on a nearby pile of lumber and joined them, staring at fruit as though it was some eldritch abomination. Each one was covered in small, conclaved, grey spots, almost resembling acne in a way. Although the change was simple, and would probably be dismissed by the vast majority of the residents, the demons had never seen anything like it.

After several minutes, Baal offered to taste one, and of course, the rest of them not only allowed it, but encouraged it. Everyone, as always, assumed he would be fine, if not a bit disgusted by the taste, but his reaction was shocking. As soon as it was in his mouth, he looked as though his entire body wanted nothing more than to eject it as soon as possible. He went as pale as he could with his pitch colored complexion, and dashed to a produce cleaning station where he vomited several times into the sink and proceeded to gulp water from a nearby bucket.

Satan stepped behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder in a weak attempt to offer comfort, "Baal?" Asked he, sounding slightly desperate for a response.

He dry heaved and stood up, obviously trying not to throw up again, "disgusting." He murmured senselessly, it was practically a croak.

The men's arguing had gone silent, replaced with looks of awkward concern, though they quickly vanished as one spoke. "Have either of you ever heard of apple scab?" The other farmer was obviously left out of the question's aim.

"No," said Satan, "I don't think I have."

"It's a fungal infection common in apples and pears, it renders them completely inedible, I'm afraid, but I think that may be what's going on."

Now furiously worried, Satan took Baal by the arm and led him to the backroom, with little more than a quick, 'please excuse us,' to the men.

After they had gotten settled on a stack of crates, now safe from whoever may overhear something, he allowed his pleasantly apathetic facade to drop, and began to almost fuss over his companion.

"Are you alright, Baal?"

"Yes my lord." said he, thankfully looking more confident after being given time to recover.

Satan sighed, though whether it was out of relief or further concern was a mystery, "Well at least we can say that much, that food simply won't do."

"Trust me, my lord, I can see that, what do you suppose we should do about it?"

There was a moment of silence as he considered the best course of action, "I need you to find a botanist of some sort, or someone with a similar expertise, and have them inspect as many crops as possible, not just the apple trees. I will do the same, and we'll meet back here with the person we've chosen for the job in a few hours, do you understand?"

Baal nodded, and they both ran off to perform the duty.

The state of their food source was certainly worrying to put it lightly. Almost every type of plant was affected, and all that had were quickly deemed unsafe for consumption. The remaining food was hardly enough to feed everyone, and things began to appear bleak mere minutes after the observation began.

As Baal walked behind his chosen scientist, trailing from plant to plant as a groundhog does when searching for food, he spotted Adam and Asher standing in the center of the apple grove, chattering excitedly on how the tainted fruit may taste, while Je'sus, as always, ignored them.

He yelled to the group and, like a class of guilty children, they turned to him. "I would highly encourage you boys to not go through with that," shouted he, "I ate one earlier this morning and I think I can safely tell you that those apples are some of the most horrible things I have ever placed in my mouth. Frankly, I'm concerned on how they may affect humans such as yourselves."

The group simply laughed and Asher bit into one, smiling smugly before experiencing a similar reaction, though now accompanied by a long string of swear words. Baal again, ignored it, and continued the examination without another thought. He reasoned that any ill effects could be dealt with once they knew what they were, that is, if any occurred to begin with, which he highly doubted.

Despite his intense enjoyment of botany, Baal's excitement towards the subject was minimal that day, and seemed to puff out of existence in its entirety when he reentered the warehouse, where Satan stood in front of the doorway waiting for him. He was talking quietly to the scientist he had worked with while fidgeting with the fabric of his robes in concern, a subtle motion, but distinct if you knew him well enough. As his assistant was greeted, both scientists left the conversation and sat down on the lumber to engage in a quite sullen discussion of their own, for they were both now overly aware of the situation. Once again, the demons stepped into a backroom, but unlike the last meeting between the two, there was no comforting, and not a single use of the phrase, 'my lord,' from Baal. Instead it was replaced with many frustrated huffs and bouts of frantic speaking.

"What do you suppose we should do?" asked he.

Satan sighed, looking exhausted despite the fact that he hadn't physically exerted himself in the slightest during the crop examination, "I must confess that I do not know. From what I've heard, normally when a self sustaining area falls into this type of predicament, it will focus more on the production of animal products, but since our pigs are given in limited amounts to us by God, that is simply not an option."

"Because this is obviously our punishment for the millenium, what do you suppose it consists of? I mean, the botanists told us apple scab is fungal, and, well, we already have mushrooms and such growing down here, in fact, they've been here since we were cast out."

"Disease, most likely." Satan chided, "though I suspect it's much more than just plant illness, and even then, you must understand that my prediction is only a hunch." He stood, "come, I'm sure everyone will be wanting us to explain this mess."