IV. Underworld

Darrus came out of a doorway in the Outer Warrens of New Liberty. Located at the metropolis' southern end, it was a notorious red light district. Most demons didn't bother with the place; every soul there was either so tainted that any demonic interventioni was redundant, or else was completely untemptable and had come in the vain hope of redeeming one of the others.

It was also a hotbed for insurgent activity, which was why it had grown on Darrus.

Darrus stepped out into the street. A place this dark didn't slow down just because it was daytime. A network of canopies had been set up, hanging between the buildings. Gloom was requisite for such a place.

Darrus took the scenic route, if one could call it that, to the particular brothel he was looking for. He reached it in a few minutes time. It was a middle-of-the-road house of negotiable affection; a bit too pricey for the lowest classes, but not even attempting the raunchy mockery of class the more expensive houses displayed. It had been chosen because it saw the most economically diverse clientelle; Hell was always concerned with reaching all it could. This place was just nonthreatening enough to encourage a few uncorrupted souls inside, and to make the marginally corrupted seal the deal.

Sex itself wasn't the problem. None of the Big Man's laws specifically forbade it, provided that neither partner was married to someone not partaking in the union. It was the other elements that did it. Addiction encouraged theft, which was against the Big Man's law. Cheap, abundant prostitution encouraged infidelity--another no-no. The guilt experienced by some customers lead them to lengths that were unacceptable, or else the discovery of their deeds set events of the same nature in motion. The sex itself was merely the centerpiece the sins used as a vehicle. Street preachers would occasionally venture inside the Outer Warrens in the hope of dispelling any aspect of the darkness--they usually met with no success, and other times gave a route for another forbidden sin--murder.

Darrus arrived at the brothel and went inside. Business was slow, considering the sun was up.

"Good morning." said the hostess as Darrus strode through the foyer. She stood behind a podium with a velvet rope barring the way. "What are your personal preferences, and how much will you be willing to spend today?"

"I'm actually not here to patronize." said Darrus. No longer being human, sex wasn't particularly interesting to Darrus. "I wish to speak to one of your...employees."

The woman seemed vaguely insulted with the pause, meaning it had served its purpose. "Well, we really don't make a practice of--"

Her qualms were forgotten when Darrus laid a 20 credit note on the podium in front of her. "Right, then. Give me her name, and if she isn't currently engaged, I'll send her up."

"Lilith DeCarte." said Darrus.

"I'll be right back."

Darrus lingered in the foyer, peering at the garrish decor. The place was predominantly deep red--a color Darrus had seen enough of, as of late--and was heavily perfumed. If Darrus had needed to breath, he likely would have choked on the stuff. He absent-mindedly withdrew a cigarette and lit it. Darrus continued to rotate around the room, taking in its mock glory.

There was the sound of a throat clearing behind Darrus. He turned. The figure facing him was certainly beautiful, but in a frayed, half-damaged sort of way. She couldn't have been more than twenty-five, and looked as though she had grown up as the sort of girl that boys dream about but never get any further; unattainable, perfect, unapologetically feminine. But somewhere along the line, something had gone wrong, and she had wound up here, deprecating herself for the amusement of others. She wore too much makeup, as if hoping to cover up the fact that, though no one batted an eye and her presence, she didn't truly belong here.

It was a cunning illusion, all things considered.

"Lilith." said Darrus.

"Darrus, put out the cigarette." said the girl, stepping towards him in a manner more forceful than her form would suggest her capable of.

"Ah, yes." said Darrus, flicking it away. "Hell forbid that the place reek of anything other than what you folks have prescribed."

"What brings you here?" asked Lilith.

"I'm looking for something, and I require your service."

Lilith's shoulder's heaved. "I have many, many services to speak of. Which one were you referring to?"

"To create a beacon, to lure him in."

Lilith glanced at an ornate grandfather clock beyond the podium. "I suppose. I have the time. Come with me."

The girl who had greeted Darrus came back to her post just in time to notice that Darrus passed through the velvet rope, rather than over it. She dismissed it when she saw Lilith leading him into the house.

"Hold on a moment, Lilith!" said the girl. "You know the house gets 40%. What do you plan to do with him back there, and how much are you charging?"

Darrus and Lilith looked at each other.

"Do you want to do it, or should I?" asked Darrus.

"Go ahead." said Lilith, an exasperated look on her face.

Darrus reached into his coat. His hand came back with a small, silver whistle. "We're just going to listen to some music, maybe take a nap. We don't you join us?"

The girl started to protest. Darrus blew the whistle, and she sank slowly to the floor, sound asleep.

"Obedient little thing." said Darrus, putting the whistle away.

"Don't worry," said Lilith, walking down the corridor. "It'll fade in time."

"Always does." said Darrus, taking one last look at the girl's prostrate form before following Lilith. "Although, should we leave her unconscious in the foyer of a brothel?"

"Don't think it's the first time it's happened." said Lilith.