The rest of the limo ride to the Glatorius household wasn't very eventful, but Jonas was starting to get the feeling that Phillip might not be as bad as he had once believed, though that didn't mean that Jonas had let his guard down around him at all.

If Jonas had to guess, Phillip was just a bored aristocrat who wanted to waste his wealth on shiny toys and one of those toys just so happened to be pretty boys. Why Phillip Glatorius was looking for someone like Jonas; he couldn't be sure, but he knew that eventually, he would find out what his new master wanted because everyone in Hell always wanted something.

The two of them cleared their way through the plates of sweets, and while Phillip ate almost fifty times as much as Jonas, he was still impressed that the slender youth could put back that many pastries.

"Hungry were you?" Phillip teased, as he wiped away the icing from his mouth with a napkin.

"First real food I've eaten since I got here, and like I said, the only other meal I had was some poisoned fruit and water," Jonas added, "Thanks by the way."

"No problem at all," said Phillip, "I always treat my people good, just wait until we get home, I'll have my chef prepare a feast to welcome you."

"You don't have to do that," Jonas protested, but Phillip wasn't having it.

"I know I don't, but I'm always ready for a feast, and especially a reason to throw one," he put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a hell phone. "Here," he said as he tossed it over to Jonas.

"My hell phone," said Jonas excitedly, "I wasn't sure I'd ever see it again."

"You should put a password on it," said Phillip, "I don't mind if my people have phones, but if you use it to cause problems, I'll have to confiscate it for a while as punishment."

"Got it," said Jonas.

"How'd you die anyways?" asked Phillip, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to" but Jonas felt like he had no reason to hide it.

"Car accident," said Jonas, "How about you?"

"I didn't, I was born in Hell," said Phillip, and this caused Jonas to look at him in confusion.

"You were born in Hell, is that even possible?"

"You have a physical body, don't you?" asked Philip, "Then it would stand to reason that you can have children while you're down here in Hell," but he added, "It's extremely rare, and usually only the rich and powerful will even try."

"I haven't seen any kids," said Jonas, "But yeah that does make sense."

"Two things you need to know about people in Hell," said Phillip, "Kids from the mortal world who are under eighteen get sent to the fifth floor when they die, a place known as Little Heaven, where they're raised and taught by Angels," he continued, "And when they turn of age, they are sent to live among the common people here in the Overworld."

"Just missed the marker then," said Jonas miserably, "I died the day after my eighteenth birthday," and he couldn't help but wonder if he had been born a few days later, perhaps he might have been living it up with the Angels in the paradise known as Little Heaven.

"Happy belated," said Phillip kindly, and after washing back another glass of champagne, he continued his explanation, "The second thing you need to know, is that people like me who were born in Hell are called Hellites, and we're a bit special when compared to other people, but you probably already realized this."

"I'm curious," said Jonas, "Do people in Hell die of old age?"

"Nope," replied Phillip, "Basically, once you die and make it to Hell, you're given a body that reflects the best physical shape you were in during your past life. Seeing as you never lived past eighteen, that's why you look the way you do," he added, "You'll continue to get older as the years go by, but eventually you'll stop aging."

"Wait," said Jonas, "Are you trying to say that we're immortal?" and this caused Phillip to laugh.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," said Phillip, "It's true that our bodies stop aging, and our healing capabilities down here in Hell are much better than that of the mortal world, so you rarely have to deal with the various fatalities of the natural life, such as viruses, or cancer, or even heart disease."

"You mean to say," said Jonas excitedly, "We can heal from pretty much anything?"

"Over time, yes," said Phillip, "But don't get too carried away. Although you may never have to worry about dying from cancer, nothing is preventing you from having your head chopped off."

"That makes a lot of sense," said Jonas, "So it's not that everyone has super healing, but we can just heal from the more natural causes of death?"

"Exactly," said Phillip, "If I told my men to give you the beating of your life right now, you'd eventually heal from it just as you would if you were in the mortal world," he added, "But once you damage the body beyond repair, that's it, the same result as the world you came from, right?"

"What's the point of those rules though?" Jonas asked.

"You might have heard that every floor of Hell has different rules, right?" Phillip asked.

"I was informed, yes."

"The rules of the Overworld state: forever in the first realm, don't forget yourself. It means that those who die will be given a brand-new body, only they'll find themselves resurrected in a random location, with absolutely no memories of their previous self."

"I still don't get the point," said Jonas, "Why even let them come back? Why even take their memories?"

"Well," said Phillip, "If I had to guess, it's sort of like a triple-layered treat. The first layer makes sure that when very evil people die in Hell, they forget how evil they were, and once they resurrect they'll probably just reintegrate with society, no longer causing harm to others."

"That's a pretty good point," Jonas agreed, "How about the other two layers?"

"The second layer would be to make sure that those decent people who suffered their entire lives no longer have to remember that suffering, and they get a sort of fresh start."

"Almost the same fate as those who tormented them," Jonas whispered.

"Exactly," said Phillip, "The third layer would be to act as a safeguard against people committing mass suicide."

"You've lost me," said Jonas, "Why would anyone care if people killed themselves for a fresh start."

"You're from the modern world," said Philip, "You should understand corporate capitalism better than anyone," he added, "Hell is simply a product, and we are the consumers. Why would any corporation want people avoiding their product?"

"They wouldn't," Jonas said, "They would want to make sure that every single person consumed that product," and he added, "Maybe even to the point of addiction."

"Now you're truly understanding this crazy world," said Phillip, "The government wants you to experience Hell, and that means doing whatever the hell you want, as long as you don't cross their bottom line."

"So it's a fucking free-for-all," Jonas laughed, "No consequences for your actions."

"Oh there are consequences all right," said Phillip while wearing a darkened expression, "Drink one bad bottle of water and you end up a slave, subjected to the whims of another for all of eternity," seeing Jonas' terrible expression, he added, "Or perhaps you enslave the wrong person, and you end up on the short end of the stick."

"The big fish is eaten by an even bigger fish?" Jonas asked.

"Exactly," said Phillip, "And Hell is just one big ocean, filled with many, many types of fish."

"And does that happen often?" Jonas folded his hands together, "Bullies getting taken out by much bigger bullies?"

"All the time," Phillip reassured him, "It's not as hard as you think to live a normal life here in Hell, no matter how cruel it seems. Just get a job, don't go out at night, and don't have intimate interactions with anyone that you're not sure about," he added, "Make smart decisions, be self-aware, and try your very best to mind your own business."

"Thanks for taking the time to explain this all to me," Jonas was starting to feel guilty for his previously rude thoughts about Philip, although; in his defense, Philip had purchased Jonas from a slave auction.

"No problem at all," Phillip smiled, "It's the least I can do after so rudely treating you like a slave."

"Is slavery really that popular in Hell?"

"It's probably a top ten money maker," said Phillip.

"Got it," said Jonas while racking his brains for another question, "What did you mean when you said Hellites are special?"

"Remember that security guard who worked for the auction, the big guy named Rick?"

"Of course," said Jonas with a slight grimace, "How could I forget that asshole."

"He's a Hellite as well," said Phillip, "You might have noticed that he was particularly nasty, and that's because Hellites like us are often born with very extreme abnormalities of both the body, and the mind," and this revelation caused bells to ring in Jonas' head, and he felt like the pieces of the puzzle were finally coming together.

"Perhaps stronger, faster, or just plain old mean?" Jonas asked.

"Exactly," said Phillip, "I'm pretty strong myself, and it's also the reason I look like this," he gestured to his rolls of fat.

"Are you guys Sinners?" asked Jonas, hoping he might be able to finally get answers. Phillip raised an eyebrow and contemplated Jonas for a moment.

"How do you know about them?"

"I was curious," began Jonas, "If you could leave your floor in Hell."

"So you came across Sinners and the Hell Challenge, but couldn't find any information on them?" Phillip added, "You're not the first."

"Do you know anything about it?" Jonas asked excitedly.

"No," said Phillip, and this caused the excitement to escape Jonas like a deflated balloon, "However," he added, "I do know that Hellites like me have an easier time becoming Sinners when compared to people like you."

"So secretive," said Jonas, "Thanks for telling me what you know."

"Not a problem," said Phillip, "It's not much, but there isn't a point to worrying about it, only Sinners know anything about being a Sinner, and getting information from them is like pulling teeth from a frog."

Jonas gave a small smile but sat quietly for the rest of the trip. Why was it that Hellites could become Sinners easier than mortals like him? Jonas considered it might be environmental factors, like something in the air or the food, but he didn't put much stock into that theory. Soon, the limo ride was over and Jonas felt them come to a complete stop.

"We're here," said Phillip and as he slowly clambered out of the limo, Jonas was careful not to put his head anywhere near his ass.

Stepping out of the vehicle, Jonas' eyes were met with the sight of an extremely large mansion made of brown cobblestone. Its roof was shaped like a cathedral, and its windows were glowing with the bright lights from the interior. Outside the front doors were two security guards, each had a sword strapped to their side.

"Are there no guns or bombs in Hell?" asked Jonas, as he followed Phillip to the front door.

"Nope," Phillip said breathlessly, "That's something only those in the government have access to, for us Commoners it's swords and fists we need to rely on," and he stopped to take a breath.

Entering the mansion, Jonas was greeted by an extremely clean and extravagant interior design, and it was absolutely the nicest home he had ever been in. A large golden chandelier hung in the entrance hall which lit up the various paintings of extremely fat men whom Jonas assumed were related to Phillip. As they made their way through the entry hall, a lovely woman's voice called out to them.

"Phillip, darling is that you?" and from the top of a balcony Jonas came eye to eye with a very gorgeous redhead, who was fair-skinned and had a petite build. She was smiling dazzlingly at Phillip, who in return was smiling back.

"It's me," said Phillip, "We just got in," and the red-headed woman in her flowing pink dress came fluttering down the stairs, and with one great hop she leaped into the arms of Phillip who delicately caught her.

"I missed you," she said while pecking him on the cheek, "And who is this?" she added, her brown eyes staring curiously at Jonas.

"Jonas," said Phillip, "I bought him at the slave auction, he'll be living with us for now on," but Jonas noticed a strange exchange of looks given between the two lovers that made him question his purpose in the Glatorius household, "Jonas this is my wife, Amberlee."

"Good to meet you," said Jonas, he felt like there was no reason to be impolite seeing as he had yet to be mistreated by Phillip.

"Very good to meet you too," said Amberlee, "How old are you?"

"Eighteen," said Jonas, "I've only just arrived in Hell a few days ago."

"You poor thing," she said with a pout, "You must have been so scared and alone," and she came over and threw her arms around Jonas's neck and he could feel her perky breasts mash against his chest.

For a moment he didn't know what to do with his hands, so they shot out awkwardly behind her, as he glanced at Phillip who smiled approvingly. Not wanting to offend anyone for no reason, he gently returned the hug and patted her on the back.

"Err," he blundered, "Thanks, it wasn't that bad though," and Jonas was starting to wonder just what kind of situation he had gotten himself into.