"I thought I might see you back," although the demon held no expression as he peered down at me, he seemed happy, "I did not expect so soon."

"Spike?" I rasped through the throbbing pain in my head.

"Good. You remember," his observation continued.

"Hardly," the ache had already begun to cease, allowing me to focus instead on getting up off of the ground.

My body vibrated as if all its muscles were strained. By the time I was in a seated position, claws in front to push me to my feet, I recalled enough about who I was to wonder...why the fuck do I have claws?

Instead of rising fully, I simply sat and flipped my new assets over a few times in an attempt to understand. Outside of remembering my last visit to this place and the treacherous return, I was clueless.

Looking to the creature again, I finished finding my feet. The instant I gained my ground, however, I almost lost it again. Eventually, I fell back onto my ass after teetering about for a while.

"Don't worry," my companion cocked his head, "You'll get used to those."

"Used to what?" I inquired, twisting my head to look behind me.

Protruding from beside my shoulder blades and lining my spine were two black, feathery masses. Wings? My mind instinctively connected, commanding them to move. When the appendages extended, I discovered their span was roughly my height and a half.

I also noticed that despite initially appearing as two singular attachments, each side was actually made of multiple extensions. It was how closely together they were and the bundles of feathers which made them seem solid. So I was a demon now?

"How did I get these?"

"I assume you died," he stated plainly.

My memory jogged with instances of McGraff's company, our subsequent battle, and Devin crying as he held my fading body. Devin. Sorrow washed over me, demanding I do something to remedy this situation. Once more standing, this time compensating for my new form, I addressed the guide.

"Is it normal to die and become a demon? I didn't use any witchcraft or make a deal with the devil or anything."

"I wouldn't say it's normal," Spike mused, "It's certainly not unheard of. Don't you humans think you become angels when you die?"

I thought about that theory for a moment while also taking a few awkward steps. I guess a lot of people did think that. Or at least, they thought when they died, they went to Heaven where angels were. "Humans aren't exactly encyclopedias on the afterlife as much as some like to think they are."

"Fair enough," the demon answered as he watched me get my bearings, "It's different for everyone, but more or less, the spirit takes on a new life after its body dies. Generally we are simply reborn as what we were last or at least another thing from the same or similar realm."

"You mean like a human could die and come back as a bear?" I asked, focusing on my gait and gaining stability with every step.

"Yes."

"I think that's called reincarnation," I finally felt comfortable enough to look up, "So what now? What do I do?"

"Whatever you want, I guess," his body didn't move at all, yet I pictured him shrugging in his mind.

"I meant, aren't there rules to follow? Laws or Satan or some shit?" my brow furrowed.

"Just the law of the land," he shrugged without shrugging again.

"What does that mean?" the conversation was starting to agitate me.

"Take care of yourself, expect others to take care of themselves. Pick your battles," Spike was almost less than helpful; almost because I think I was able to catch on to what he was saying.

"Hell is an anarchist society, then? Everyone fends for themselves?" was my conclusion.

The strange skeleton nodded.

"And that works?" I questioned.

"It does here. I won't say there are never any groups that try to conquer, but it's generally resolved. Nobody here wants to be ruled so when that does happen, the rest of us band together to eradicate the threat," he informed.

"I see..." I started to walk again, Spike joining at my side, "So-"

"YOU LITTLE BITCH!"

I would have spun around to the familiar voice if a hand and claw hadn't reached over my shoulders, grabbing and turning me themselves.

It was unmistakably the being I had come to know as McGraff, but his appearance varied greatly. He looked both younger and older at once. His clothes, I realized were what had been on my body when I died. His form was as I was used to except...thin. Not weight wise, but as though his very essence had grown so weak that a huff of air could easily erase it.

Surprisingly, he moved to attack me even whilst in such a state. The concern I used to have for not being able to perform effectively was gone, letting me draw my sword instantaneously. With a gentle swish, I had fended him off, my observation about his wispy essence proven correct.

I witnessed a new emotion from the serial killer then: fear. Grasping to the waft of his soul that had begun to scatter, his expression portrayed abject horror. His defeat was delicious.

"You wait! You won't last long in here!" the necromancer growled, clearly unaccustomed to the position he was in, "I killed you once and I'll kill you again!"

My fresh outlook had me retorting cockily, "Yes, because I allowed it in order to destroy you," I raised my arms to my sides and stretched my wings, "It's easy to see who really won."

Even though the insult was effective, leaving my enemy with nothing to do other than sulk off, my spirits fell as soon as I had finished speaking. Had I won? In respect to defeating him, yes. In finally making some progress with my search for Tyler, it seemed so. However, I was once again separated from the one I loved.

Shifting my gaze and stepping determinedly toward the friendly demon, I demanded to know, "I need to get to Earth. How do I go back?"

Although Spike acted as calm as ever, I noticed a subtle change in how he reacted to my approach. He stayed his stance, but his bony wing-arm twitched and his eyes blinked strangely. Did I intimidate him? Just as I started to repeat myself, he answered.

"You're stuck now. Why do you think those ghost friends of yours used you to get here?"

I took a pace in reverse and removed myself so he couldn't see the tears growing in my eyes, "I don't believe that. If as a human I could get here, then as a demon I should be able to get there."

"I have been here for many centuries and yet this world has always worked the same," the creature assessed, "Though you are a rarity indeed. Perhaps you can learn something I do not know."

Having managed to clear my vision, I focused on him again, "Then maybe you can teach me what you know. I can start there."

"Why do you want to return?" he questioned honestly, "It was my understanding that escaping that world was the reason for journeying here in the first place."

"My," I cleared my throat to hide how I was choking on the thought, "I need to know that Devin is okay."

"Was he your mate?" the demon guessed.

I hesitated, then gave a nod.

"If he is your love, then is it possible he will die soon?"

"What? No!" I barked, not appreciating the idea of Devin dying, "Why would you ask that?"

"It is common for those so attached to depart their world together. Sometimes naturally and sometimes forced by the hand of who is left behind," the demon had twitched again. I gathered he didn't like my aggression aimed upon him, "I only meant to help."

I shook my head. It was morbid, though I guess the culture of this realm was very different from what I was used to. "What would happen if I died here? Would I revert to being human?"

Spike paused, considering the inquiry, "It's possible, but not probable. Just like being of that realm makes it exceedingly likely you will be born of it again, when you're born in this one, you're also most likely to rebirth here. And if you did happen to both return to Earth and be a human, those bodies are different than ours here. You would begin as a child and the likelihood of ever remembering your past lives is slim."

Sighing, I kept on walking, watching the imprints my massive feet made in the ground's energy. It was like watching water ripple at your touch, yet was solid and dry. My friend matched my pace, staying silently at my side as we traversed the realm.

It was hollow knowing how alone I was. Regardless of how hard I tried, I remained lost, never getting ahead. I thought improving oneself and working to fix your mistakes and flaws was supposed to make you better and lesson life's turmoil. However, I realized that everything was arbitrary. There was no good and no evil. No purpose; only survival, just like Hell was explained to be.

And strangely, this brought with it a sense of contentedness. Straining and frustrating myself had been fruitless, so how comforting was it to know at last that there was no grand scheme. I could continue to run myself ragged or I could lay back and watch the tide run its naturally endless cycle.

If I forced the row to halt, I would only drown when prolonged effort weakened me. Rather than desperately cling to the primitive idea that ethical vigilance would lead to some prize or peace, I would act in the interest of my present and understand that what comes will go again.

When I noticed the atmosphere start to change from the barren outskirts to surroundings more akin to a city, I wondered where we were heading. Spike had at some point began rambling, nearly incoherent, about what was more or less the culture and physics of my new home. It seemed oddly out of character, but the moment I inquired of our destination, the rushed details stopped and his voice returned to its usual demeanor.

"I am along with you. It is typical that for any new being to establish first, a shelter. Whether consciously or otherwise, I assumed this was your intent."

Abruptly, I stopped, staring at the demon who slowly mimicked my motion and waited for me to speak. I didn't know why I hadn't noticed before, but the sight of his lips moving as he answered jarred the comprehension that during his odd ramblings, he had not moved them.

"Were you speaking to me before now?" the words sounded panicky, "When we were walking?"

"I was not," he blinked, "Did you hear me?"

I nodded, "Explaining what to expect of this place."

"Then it was I."

"But you just said you didn't-"

"Forgive the confusion," he interrupted, "I did not tell you, but it was my thoughts you heard."

My blank stare prompted him to clarify.

"You remember our conversation about demon names and sensing one's essence for means of identification?"

"Yeah," I chuckled, "I thought it was telepathy."

"In much the same way, we are very aware of the presence of others, especially our own kind. I suppose it could be attributed to telepathy, but due to this, we have multiple types of thoughts. Some are free for others to read, some are not. Our knowledge of other beings is what allows or blocks them from hearing these different things."

My heart fluttered with fear of accidentally allowing these other demons to prod into my mind, "Wait. You're saying whatever information in our heads- thoughts, feelings, memories- all have different wavelengths that random demons can just gain access to? How do I know what I'm sharing with who?"

"Do not worry; your mind is quite locked. I have not read anything," Spike soothed, "What and who is completely up to you. For example, you told me that you wished to learn from me. I had no quarrel with sharing these things so naturally I modified my bars to allow you this knowledge whenever you wished to hear it."

"Are there creatures who can get past my blocks and see more than I want them to?"

"Yes. It follows the same rules as any form of forced entry: there will be evidence that it has occurred and they will need to be stronger than your defenses to be successful."

With that lesson behind me, I looked to the new area we had reached. There had been a handful of beast-like demons on the way, idly grazing in the distance. Besides them, McGraff, and Spike however, the group I saw now were the first I had met since my rebirth.

There were seven agender beings in total, all similar in appearance at the base of a silvery distortion I surmised to be an entry point. They stood bipedal at the same height, perhaps five foot eight, with long black manes and small horns lining their naked backs.

Fourteen round eyes consisting entirely of a cyan blue slightly brighter than their skin turned simultaneously as we approached. As two of the creatures left their clan, hooven feet treading heavily albeit slowly in our direction, I took notice that one of the others who had been seated was adorned with three pair of small gray wings. Instantly, it factualized that this was their leader.

The scouts said nothing when they stopped a few feet away from us. My companion, although outwardly quiet, gave instruction to me in the form of simple statements sounding quickly and briefly inside my head.

They are assessing your threat. Be precise when speaking. Demons are not in habit of pleasant speech with those strange to them.

I took this chance to send my own message to Spike, should I be first to speak? The whole of three seconds that it took him to reply, I doubted that I had done it correctly.

If that is what you want.

Our gazes had remained locked with the others the entire time. I didn't need tips to know it would portray poorly for me to look elsewhere or soften my posture. It also seemed abundant that I not offer my naivety or my newness. I figured it quite probable that they already had an inkling of this anyway.

Time felt to speed up as I contemplated how I should address them. It was like I was taking far too long to decipher what to say and I was frightened that my uncertainty would be obvious, conveying weakness. Finally, I placed a careful foot backward and tilted my head, never breaking from their studious glares.

They observed as I reversed until I could trek around them, continuing our previous path while giving the clan space. I had anticipated these two following after us to ensure we had cleared the direct vicinity, but they held their ground.

Jolting suddenly upward from his seat, it was the winged demon who intercepted us.