Max sat on the cold metal bench across from the imposing police station, his thin fingers trembling slightly as he cradled the steaming cup of coffee, As this was winter season snow was falling reminding him of the cold each second. The rich, bitter aroma wafted through the air, a stark contrast to the rancid stench that clung to the slums he called home. He took a sip, wincing as the liquid seared his throat. It was real coffee, the expensive kind, a luxury he hadn't tasted in years. The bitterness reminded him of the ones he used to brew himself—better, smoother. But those days felt like a lifetime ago, back when he still had the strength to care about such things.
Two months ago, a nightmarish phenomenon began plaguing the world: people were being dragged and teleported into a hellish realm. If they died there, they returned as demons, but if they succeeded, they emerged as Awakened—powerful beings with the potential to stop the monstrous threats ravaging the world. This grim reality emerged after a series of global disasters, including the destruction of the Blood Galaxy, whose cause remains a mystery. The curse that followed transformed people into monsters unless they could overcome it.
Max, a frail and broken man, found himself in this perilous world. Unlike the Awakened, who were capable of fighting the encroaching darkness, Max was simply lost and fearful, struggling to find his place in a world where he felt utterly out of place.
He looked around, his sunken eyes scanning the faces of the passersby. Wealthy citizens, dressed in fine clothes, hurried about their day, their expressions carefree, their lives untouched by the nightmares that haunted him. Max pulled his threadbare coat tighter around his frail frame, feeling the weight of his existence pressing down on him. The dark circles under his eyes were testament to his sleepless nights, to the relentless torment that gnawed at his mind. He was a ghost among the living, a shadow in a world that had forgotten him. He is currently abroad as his family sent him to study in Canada but now he is poor in this situation as he thought he will be a little well off if he graduated from renowned college but with this hell descent he cant afford anything as the world in now for rich people, and now he sees being chosen by the Hell as a death sentence.
With a sigh, Max drained the cup, forcing the last bitter drop down his throat. It was time. He stood up, his legs weak, and made his way across the street to the police station. The automatic doors slid open with a hiss, and he stepped inside, the warmth of the interior doing little to chase away the chill that had settled in his bones. The station was busy, officers moving about with purpose, their voices a low hum that filled the air.
Max approached the front desk, where a bored-looking officer was hunched over his computer, absently clicking through what seemed like an endless stack of emails. He didn't even glance up when Max cleared his throat.
"Excuse me," Max said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "I need to report something."
The officer finally lifted his gaze, eyes narrowing as he took in Max's disheveled appearance. "Yeah? What's it about?" He sighed, sounding more inconvenienced than concerned.
Max opened his mouth to speak, but the officer raised a hand, cutting him off. "Wait, before you say anything—if this isn't a life-or-death emergency, can you just report it online? We've got a whole system for that, super convenient. Saves me from doing paperwork. You can upload pictures, type your story, add emojis, whatever you need. Anyway, have a nice day and thanks for stopping by!"
Max blinked, momentarily stunned by the officer's rapid-fire response. "But… I'm here to surrender myself," he managed to say.
The officer's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, well… that's different. Why didn't you start with that?!"
The officer's demeanor shifted instantly. He sat up straight, his hand hovering over the alarm button. "You're infected by hell....?" he asked, his voice tinged with fear.
Max nodded, his hands trembling. "Yes. I've been marked by the Hell."
The officer stared at him for a long moment before reaching for the phone on his desk. Within minutes, the room was in chaos. Officers scrambled to clear the area, some of them casting nervous glances at Max as if he were a ticking time bomb. He stood there, feeling more out of place than ever, as the reality of his situation settled in.
Soon, a pair of officers escorted Max to a secure room deep within the station. The walls were lined with reinforced steel, the air thick with the scent of antiseptic. Max was guided to a chair in the center of the room and gently restrained. He barely resisted; there was no point. He knew what was coming.
An older policeman, his face etched with the lines of a hard life, stood before Max. "You know what's coming, kid?we have even published information far wide so let me tell you again are you ready?" the old man asked, his voice gruff but not unkind.
Max nodded weakly. "I think so."
The policeman pulled up a chair and sat down in front of him. "You'll be entering Hell soon. That place is called hell a land forgotten by many civilization you will find many things there and It's different for everyone, but you'll face trials—fears, challenges, horrors. If you survive, you might gain an Aspect, a power that could help you. Combat abilities, heightened senses, or something else entirely. But remember, not everyone makes it out. Kid, none of us wanted this. But the world doesn't care about what we want. You either survive, or you don't. And listen you have to make it back as a human ,you will be teleported and if you die in that hell and returned as a demon then this place will automatically lockdown and you will be killed with no mercy"
Max tried to focus on the man's words, but his vision was blurring. Exhaustion pulled at him, dragging him down into the abyss. He could feel the Hell's grip tightening around his mind, the edges of his consciousness fraying. The old man's voice grew distant, a faint echo as Max's eyes finally closed.
Darkness enveloped him, cold and suffocating. For a moment, there was nothing but silence, the weight of oblivion pressing down on him. Then, out of the void, a voice whispered in his ear Something magical yet unknown.
Max's heart skipped a beat as the world around him shifted, the darkness morphing into something else—something far more terrifying. He was no longer in the police station. He was in the Hell.