The sharp ring-ring-ring of a phone alarm cut through the quiet.
Somewhere beneath it, the muffled voice of a TV weather forecaster droned on.
"…heavy rain is expected tonight, so if you must go out, don't forget your umbrellas. Best to stay indoors if possible…"
Both sounds crashed into his half-conscious mind at once, yanking him awake. He jolted up, only for a stabbing ache to pull him right back down into the bed.
A groan slipped out. Every muscle screamed.
His eyes squeezed shut against a blinding light overhead. He forced them open, squinting hard, trying to follow the shrill alarm's source. It came from the counter.
He reached for it, each movement making him wince. Fingers closed around the phone; with another squint, he silenced the alarm. The sudden quiet let the pain rush in all at once. It felt like five hundred men had beaten him senseless, or like a fridge had been dropped on him. And there was the faint throb of a headache to top it off.
As that thought passed, another slammed into him, the beast. It had promised to transform him into a demon. Was this part of it? Had it beaten him this badly just to change him?
His hands roamed over his body. Pain, yes… but no injuries. His skin felt smooth. No wrinkles. And his legs, he was standing. He was walking.
His wheelchair was gone.
A rush of disbelief shot through him. He scanned the room, searching for a mirror. "Bathroom," he muttered. His gaze caught the doorway to a small toilet beside the bedroom. He hurried inside.
There, above the sink, hung a small mirror.
He stared. His reflection stared back, clear skin, no lines, no frailty. He looked… young. Strong. Healthy. Was he back? Was he alive again? Resurrected?
His chest rose and fell fast. His legs shifted under him, light and strong. He jogged in place. Laughed. The sound came out loud and unrestrained, almost wild. "Oh my God… my family won't believe this!"
Hands pressed to his head, he grinned wide. I'm human. I'm healthy. I'm back.
He left the bathroom, and the forecaster's voice caught his attention again.
"…tomorrow morning will be clear and sunny. But tonight, heavy rain is still expected here in Oroshika. Once again, don't stay out late, or be sure to carry an umbrella."
Oroshika? The name lodged in his mind. Was this Japan?
Before he could think further, a sharp pop sounded from the counter. A notification. He grabbed the phone and swiped it open.
The words on the screen froze him:
{Welcome, Renayo Ezraphor, to Oroshika, Hell's Capital City.}
Renayo Ezraphor? Who was that? And… Hell's Capital? His stomach tightened. Was he… in Hell? He'd prayed to be back on Earth, not here.
He scrolled further.
{The Lesser Grade Association welcomes you to the initiation ceremony held to fully welcome all Grade 1 demons. Your dress code can be found in your wardrobe, with your identification card tucked inside. Wait for the black taxi downstairs by 8:00 p.m. Don't be late. 💀}
He stared. Grade 1 Demon? Lesser Grade Association? He hadn't agreed to any of this.
His gaze went back to the skull emoji at the end of the message. Something about it sent a cold ripple down his spine. Don't be late.
Panic began to rise
He rushed to the window, half-expecting the sky to still burn orange.
But it wasn't, it was dark. Ordinary night. Skyscrapers glittered, streets neat and busy with people. Families strolled, workers trudged home.
"What kind of Hell is this?" he muttered. Or maybe it was a prank?
He checked his phone: the message said 8 PM. But in the corner where the time normally sat, it read 7:55. His pulse jumped.
He darted to the bedroom, yanked open the wardrobe, and froze.
A crisp black suit jacket and trousers hung there, immaculate and tailored just for him, paired with a sky-blue shirt, a sharp red tie, and polished black leather shoes. He almost smiled. Damn… clean. Then he shook his head. Focus. This is Hell, remember?
He dressed quickly. In the jacket's pocket, his fingers brushed against an ID card:
Renayo Ezraphor – Grade 1 Demon
His own face stared back at him.
"This is me… Renayo Ezra…no, Renny. I prefer Renny."
Slipping the card back into his pocket, he hurried downstairs.
An elevator waited. His chest tightened with an odd thrill, it was his first time riding one alone. He stepped inside, watching the doors close like a slow, metallic seal.
The lobby bustled with people who looked and felt real when he brushed against one.
"Hey, watch it! You okay?" the man asked.
"Yeah. Sorry. Just slipped."
At the gate, the security guard nodded warmly. Renny reached out on impulse, shaking his hand, solid, warm, and most importantly… human.
That thought stuck with him as he stepped outside.
A black taxi idled at the curb. The driver grinned. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Renayo."
By the time he got closer, he leaned in and whispered, "Don't mind me asking, but… are you a demon? Beast? Human?"
The driver chuckled. "You're new here. Don't worry, you'll understand soon enough once we get to the venue. Ready to go?"
Renny nodded. "Yeah… I mean, do I have a choice?"
"Hahaha… no, you do not."
He stepped into the car, and the driver pulled away.