The elevator was made of bone.
Polished, yellowed, and humming faintly with the screams of the damned—not metaphorically.
Actual, echoing screams rose from the shaft like steam as the lift ascended.
Each floor they passed flashed with an infernal sigil and a short chime that sounded like a corrupted voicemail from Satan's voicemail assistant.
"Floor One: Reception, Branding, Eternal Onboarding."
"Floor Two: Wrath & Enforcement. Please scream responsibly."
Ding.
Delilah didn't flinch.
She stood beside Riko, arms crossed, clipboard hovering beside her like a loyal familiar.
Her expression was unreadable behind red-tinted glasses.
Riko shifted on his feet, still in a scorched hoodie and slightly melted boxers, silently trying to act like that was normal.
"So... Wrath Division. Sounds welcoming."
Delilah didn't look at him. "It's where complaints go to die."
The elevator doors opened.
Hell's second floor hit him like a thrown stapler.
The air reeked of scorched leather, sulfur, and burned-out ambition.
The lighting was harsh, flickering between red and hospital white.
Cubicles stretched into a twisted infinity, but none of them had walls—just floating screens showing violent reenactments of vengeance requests.
A demon in riot armor passed by dragging a man-sized stapler with legs, growling into a headset: "—no, we can't refund a soul once it's filed, sir—"
Overhead, motivational posters fluttered on strings of fire:
"INFLICT. REPORT. INCINERATE."
"BLOOD IS THE INK OF EFFICIENCY."
"FRIDAY IS CARNAGE CASUAL."
Delilah stepped forward, heels clacking with executive authority. Riko jogged to keep up, dodging a paper shredder on wheels that snarled at his ankle.
"Is this... normal?" he muttered.
"Define normal," she replied.
"I thought office jobs were supposed to suck metaphorically. Not like, actual suckage. Like with mouths."
They passed a conference room where a demon was screaming, "YOU CAN'T OUTSOURCE DECAPITATION," while pounding on a glowing pie chart.
"This is where conflict becomes commerce," Delilah said smoothly. "Interns are expected to resolve, escalate, or weaponize disputes within fourteen minutes."
"Cool. Can I resolve them by quitting?"
"No."
Another intern flew past them upside down, clutching his own severed arm and yelling, "I DON'T NEED PTO I NEED HOLY WATER—"
Riko stared. "Are there... any HR complaints that don't end in flames?"
"One," Delilah said, pausing before a cubicle with its walls spray-painted in blood. "But she died. We reclassified her as a hostile memo."
At that moment, a siren blared above them.
A glowing alert blinked to life on a nearby wall:
INFERNAL FLOOR 2 — NEW INTERN REGISTERED.
NAME: RIKO GRAVES. STATUS: LOOSE CANNON. WATCHLISTED.
Several heads turned. Most were attached to necks. Some weren't.
Riko gave a limp wave. "Hi."
From somewhere in the maze, a low growl echoed.
Delilah's eyes narrowed. "Right on cue."
A blur of motion approached—fast, clacking in high heels, carrying two daggers and an entire LinkedIn-worth of attitude.
A new figure stepped into view: narrow, sleek, short black horns, and a face like a mean valedictorian. She wore a blood-red blazer and held a performance review clipboard with sharp corners.
"Let me guess," Riko said. "Coworker?"
"Mm," Delilah said. "That's Skarna. Intern #1. She's been trying to get promoted for six decades."
Skarna's voice was a razor dipped in sugar. "So you're the mortal they're babysitting."
Riko sighed. "Wow. It's like every high school bully and gym teacher had a demon baby."
She narrowed her eyes. "I hope you like performance evaluations."
"Only if I can burn them."
"Oh, you'll burn, alright."
Delilah stepped between them, still cool. "You'll be formally introduced in a moment. First, Riko—your power selection. Choose wisely. I won't be saving you twice."
A glowing screen appeared beside them, flickering with chaotic text:
UNLOCKED: 1 ABILITY SLOTPLEASE SELECT FROM AVAILABLE INTERN PERKS:
Verbal Judo: Your insults hurt more than fists
Dramatic Entrance: Every time you show up, reality flinches
Spectral Printer Jam:Summon a random malfunctioning office device as a weapon
Weaponized Eye Roll: Passive boost to sarcasm damage
Folder Toss:Launch sharp contract folders with explosive red tape
Riko rubbed his face. "This is either the dumbest thing I've ever done, or the best."
Delilah smirked. "Why not both?"