Jonas was dazed as he grabbed a soft towel from the rack outside the shower, and as he mindlessly dried his body he tried his best to understand the events that had occurred. He found it hard to do because at no point in his previous life could he remember a time where such a strange sequence of events had happened to him, and that included the deaths of his parents which he hardly remembered at all. The towel hit the floor, and he stepped in front of the large bathroom mirror, examining his appearance for the first time since he had died.

"Huh," Jonas felt confused as he looked at himself, and for a second he had almost not even recognized the person reflected. Pushing his golden bangs out of his face, he looked into the blue eyes of an unfamiliar young man that seemed to be radiating with youth, 'Did I get more attractive?' and although there weren't any extremely obvious changes to his face, he did notice that his hair looked thicker and shinier, his skin was glowing, and even his body seemed more toned than it had been before. There was no other way to put it, but he thought the changes oddly resembled that of a glowing pregnant woman.

Grinning at his imagination, Jonas finished grooming and dressing before he finally came out of his daze. Just as he left his bedroom, it almost felt like he had entered a brand-new dimension, the realization of his mistake with Amberlee hit him full force and his stomach turned as he began to rationally consider what kind of torment Phillip Glatorius could inflict on him if he so wished.

Dread crept into Jonas' heart as his anxiety flared, and scenes of him strapped to the wall while he had his cock sliced off began to burn their image on the back of his eyelids, 'She won't rat me out, will she?' was his first thought, but right after he couldn't help but wonder if the whole thing wasn't just some sick twisted game they played together, one where Phillip would buy a young slave, his temptress of a wife would seduce them, and then he would use it as an excuse to torture them into insanity; a punishment for their transgressions.

Jonas blinked his eyes heavily as he stood in the middle of the hallway, 'No, that's just dumb,' he thought, 'I'm their property, I'm at their mercy, they don't need an excuse to torture me,' and slowly but surely Jonas regained some confidence as his anxiousness began to fade and he took his first step towards the dining room.

As he entered inside, he caught sight of them both already seated at the table, clearly waiting for him.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting," Jonas said quickly as he took a seat. His mouth was dry from the nervousness, remedied by a glass of water waiting for him on the table.

"Not a problem at all," Phillip smiled, "So how was it?" this innocent question nearly caused Jonas to choke on his drink.

"Very warm," he said just as innocently, but he realized his mistake as soon as Amberlee burst into giggles.

"I haven't fucked her in years so it's nice to know that somebody can enjoy her," said Phillip in a very casual manner, this time Jonas choked.

"S-so sorry," Jonas tried to say as he coughed into a napkin.

"Don't be sorry," said Phillip, "Fucking my wife is just one of your many duties," he added in self-mockery, "Do you think I can have sex with her with this body?"

"Honey," chided Amberlee, "Don't say that, you know I love your huskiness," and she outstretched a slender hand and caressed one of his larger belly rolls, and Phillip smiled at her.

Once again Jonas couldn't believe the turn of events, and if his brain was processing information correctly, he felt like it might have been a reasonable deduction to say that in fact, he would not have his cock sliced off by an angry Phillip Glatorius. Since he was home free, he didn't want to continue that conversation any longer than needed.

"Anyways," Jonas tried to change the subject, "What is it that you do in Hell?" Although the question had come to him quickly, he was curious how a person could make enough Sin Stones to afford such an extravagant lifestyle.

"Security business," said Phillip as he sipped a glass of wine, "I train security guards and rent them to an elite clientele who wish to protect their interests from the thieves of Hell."

"Sounds cool," said Jonas dryly, "Excuse me, could I get a beer?" A butler bowed at him and went to fetch it.

"You're a beer drinker?" asked Phillip.

"Yeah," said Jonas, "Back when I was alive, I lived at a few foster homes that were run by drunks, and most of the time, beer or alcohol was all you had to drink when you were thirsty," he added, "I think I had my first beer at seven," he was trying to recall the first time he had been forced to endure the taste of piss in a can.

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Phillip, "I can't stand the taste, but I do love a glass of wine," and the butler soon returned to the kitchen holding an extremely large mug that was the size of a head, and inside was a red-colored beer, with pink frothing at the top.

"Blood Light," said the butler, "Best brew in all of the Overworld," to which Jonas nearly rolled his eyes upon hearing the name. Instead, he thanked the butler, and using two hands to lift the mug, he brought it to his lips for a sip. It was incredible, and Jonas felt his taste buds experience the strangest array of sensations.

He took another sip and smacked his lips trying to point out the taste, but it was impossible as the taste of the Blood Light seemed to keep changing every time he tried more of it. Sometimes it was spicy, other times it was sweet. Sometimes Jonas swore it was salty and other times it was completely bitter like normal beer.

"Good beer," said Jonas who wished he could let his big brother try some.

"Cheers," said Phillip, and all three clinked glasses. A wave-like aroma wafted out from the swinging kitchen doors and following along with it were many chefs carrying large silver platters of food, some so large they needed two people to carry.

Now Jonas realized why the table had to be so big, all this food was enough to feed at least twelve people. The lids were then lifted, and Jonas was introduced to the largest and cheesiest lasagna he had ever witnessed in his life.

'These two have sure been eating good,' thought Jonas, whose mouth began watering immediately. With Phillip's blessing, he began loading his plate with huge squares of cheesy goodness.

The evening went quite well, especially when considering it consisted of a seven-hundred-pound security consultant, his nymphomaniac wife, and their recently purchased slave. Jonas ate quite a bit, but he left just enough room to top it off with cakes and puddings that were brought out later for dessert.

He was feeling tipsy after his fifth Blood Light and even with his high alcohol tolerance, he was starting to get a bit drowsy. The dishes had mostly been cleared, besides the ones that Phillip was polishing off with a palm-sized spoon, and Jonas and Amberlee were chatting together about Jonas' life before death.

"Phillip," said Jonas, "Could I ask you a question?"

"Sure," Phillip said through a mouthful of pudding, Jonas found it disgusting the way bits of food were stuck in between his many chins as if he was saving them for later.

"Can I buy my freedom from you?" Jonas asked, and almost immediately Amberlee looked unnerved and upset, while Phillip scrunched his eyebrows.

"Are you not happy with something?" Philip asked.

"Did I do something wrong?" Amberlee added nervously.

"No, not at all," Jonas replied to both of them, "It's just…" he hesitated. He hadn't wanted to talk about his brother, but it seemed like he would need a proper explanation to not offend his new owners.

"It's okay," said Amberlee kindly, "Say what's bothering you."

"You see," began Jonas, "I didn't die alone. I came to Hell with my older brother, but we were separated," and an expression of realization dawned on Phillip.

"Ah, now I see why you wanted to know about Sinners and the Hell Challenge," he concluded, "Your brother went to a different floor of Hell and you wanted to be reunited with him."

"Yes," said Jonas, "He was sent to the sixth floor," but when the couple heard this their faces fell.

"I'm sorry, Jonas," said Phillip, "It's nearly impossible to leave the floor you were assigned to."

"Only nearly impossible though," argued Jonas, who wasn't going to be dissuaded so easily.

"Even if you managed to figure out how to become a Sinner and to take the Hell Challenge, there is no guarantee that you could become one, right?" Phillip countered.

"So, you do know something about them?" Jonas asked eagerly as he picked out Phillips' slip of the tongue.

"Not really," he dismissively waved a hand, "I admit I have my guesses, but I have no idea about the actual definitions."

"That's fine," said Jonas, "Tell me what you know, please."

"Well, in a nutshell, I'm pretty sure that Sinners are people who have access to some strange powerful magics, and the Hell Challenge is a contest where you delve deeper into Hell and try to reach the bottom."

"Why would you want to reach the bottom?" asked Jonas. He thought that Hell got progressively worse the farther down you went, and it seemed a bit suspicious for anyone to want to experience that.

"No idea," said Phillip who was rubbing his aching belly, "Don't forget that this is just my speculation, I could be completely wrong," and he added, "As for your question about whether or not you can buy your freedom, I'll have to talk to Amberlee about it," and this made Amberlee frown. Jonas was beginning to think that she was taking this very personally.

"I have to find my brother," said Jonas quietly.

"I understand that," said Phillip earnestly, "But please try to see things from my point of view, because I did pay fifty thousand Sin Stones for you, and I'm not one to casually throw money away," and Jonas felt a surge of emotion fill his heart as he stared dumbfoundedly at the very large man. Maybe it was a difference in upbringings, but Jonas wasn't sure how Phillip could simply talk about his price so nonchalantly as if he was a sports car or something without feelings.

"Of course," said Jonas who had the sudden urge to punch Phillip in the face for being such a dick, though he considered that it probably wouldn't hurt him very much, "I would pay it all back to you, and then some."

"Enough of this talk, please," said Amberlee who was still frowning, "It's ruining my mood."

"Sorry, dear," said Phillip who beckoned a butler to fill her head-sized wine glass.

"Sorry, Amberlee," added Jonas, but he was completely exasperated by the fact that not only did they purchase him as a slave, but now they wanted him to feel guilty for wanting to leave, although if Jonas was being honest with himself, he did feel slightly guilty no matter how stupid it sounded.

"It's fine," Amberlee said as she two-handedly sipped her wine, "I just think I'll head off to bed."

"Me as well," said Jonas who was more than happy to have a reason to leave the awkward banquet, "Only if it's alright with you though, it's been a long day."

"Of course," said Phillip, "Have a good night and if I don't see you tomorrow, it will probably be next week. I'm going to be gone at work for a while," and Jonas bayed them both goodnight and quickly excused himself to his bedroom where he immediately collapsed on his king-sized bed that was layered with expensive silk sheets and fluffy plush blankets.

Laying there on the bed while slightly tipsy, Jonas sighed and began to wonder if he would ever figure out how to collect that much money to pay Phillip off. The permeating silence began to take its toll and combined with his spinning head, and his full belly, Jonas felt his eyes slowly close as his body prepared for sleep. Suddenly, a voice whispered in his ear, and it sounded oddly familiar.

"A happy wife makes a happy life."

"I'm not going to manipulate Amberlee," Jonas didn't even question the source of the voice, and instead he argued with it as if he knew exactly who was speaking to him.

"Still so soft?" the voice sighed, "Didn't you learn anything from your time at the auction, these people don't care about you, they're using you as their plaything."

"Regardless," Jonas fired back, "That's not my style, it's not what I do."

"Your style," said the voice, "Is to do whatever the hell you want, the same way it's always been."

"I'm not going to let Hell change me into a psychopath," Jonas felt his heart racing with frustration, "It's not who Drake raised me to be."

"Drake," growled the voice, "Raised you to be strong, and he raised you to be ruthless!"

"No, he didn't!" Jonas shouted, "He raised me to make my own decisions, to be my own man!"

"Is that what you think?" the voice began to laugh evilly, "Oh boy, if you only knew, if you could only just remember."

"Remember what?" Jonas was seething with anger, "You're full of shit!"

"I'm full of shit?" the voice cackled, "I was there, I was there through all of it, but you don't remember, you blocked it out like a coward."

"Blocked out what!" Jonas had enough, his heart was hammering, and he felt so angry that he wanted to reach out and strangle the thing speaking to him.

"Him," said the voice quietly, "Does the name Goldstein ring a bell?"

"Goldstein?" Jonas thought back quickly, "That was one of our first foster homes, I was only eight."

"Four," the voice said defiantly, "You were four when the Goldstein's took you and Drake in."

"How could I have been four?" Jonas wanted to laugh victoriously, "My parents died when I was eight."

"Lies!" the voice yelled, "Cruel manipulations of your memories, someone has been fucking with you!"

"Who?" Jonas laughed manically, "Who the fuck cares enough about me to try and change when I went to my first foster home?" but the voice didn't have an answer, and instead it changed its tactics.

"Forget the timeline," said the voice, "Focus on the Goldstein family, do you remember anything at all?" Jonas of all people could never forget how kindly Mr. and Mrs. Goldstein had treated him; it had been the best foster home he had ever lived in.

"Of course, I remember," said Jonas and although he only had happy memories from his time there, he couldn't help but wonder why his heart was beating so quickly, or why a sense of dread began to creep into his soul. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It has to do with everything," the voice chided knowingly, "Don't you remember why you had to leave?"

"Uh," Jonas thought back hard as he ignored his rising anxiety, "It was because Mr. Goldstein had lost his job, and they could no longer afford to take care of us," he added, "Drake and I were forced back into the system," but the voice exploded into a fit of provoking giggles as Jonas scrunched his nose in disapproval.

"Couldn't afford us?" he said, "You're so pathetic, you're so naive."

"What the fuck do you know!" Jonas shouted defensively, "I'm not pathetic, nor naive."

"You were pathetic," the voice said strangely, "Especially, when he touched you."

"Touched me?" Jonas' heart hammered like a beating drum, and adrenaline pumped through his body as strange visions began to take over his mind. There was a terrible monster before him; it had a hungry gaze and two eyes like black holes that stared deeply into his soul.

Jonas panicked, he tried to back away, but the monster veered hungrily towards him, and he couldn't help but feel his own body betray him, as he sunk into the ground like a useless slug.

"No!" Jonas screamed in mirth, "Please, no!" but the monster dug its claws into his body, and he watched as his flesh was torn open, and his innards were playfully pulled out, "Stop!" tears began to fall down his cheeks as Jonas begged for mercy, "Please stop, kill me, kill me, KILL ME!"

"Calm down!" the voice yelled, "Calm down, stupid!" and the visions of the monster vanished, and Jonas could see nothing at all, only infinite darkness that was filled with the sounds of a strangely familiar voice. Jonas rolled over onto his sides as tears continued to leak down his cheeks, he was trying to breathe, but he was heaving like a sad toddler, and his anxiety was making it hard to breathe through the stifled sobs.

"Lies…" Jonas cried miserably, "You're lying to me," but the pleading tone and the sad weakness made the voice's heart soften.

"Fine, fine," the voice looked pityingly at the young man who was now huddled in the fetal position, "I'm just busting your chops, nothing happened, you were right, the Goldstein's couldn't afford you, and you were kicked back into the system."

"I know, I know," Jonas whimpered back, "I tried to tell you that's what happened."

"Forget it," said the voice, "But more importantly, you need to act now, because we may not get a chance if these two psychos change their minds. I tried to warn you about this back at the auction."

"I'll figure it out," Jonas closed his eyes, and he felt a wave of exhaustion hit him, "I need to sleep on it."

"Make a fucking decision, soon" the voice warned, "Because sooner or later we're both going to end up in a situation that doesn't end with silky sheets, while cuckoldry will be the least of our worries."

"Okay," Jonas whispered like a tired toddler, "I'll talk to you about it tomorrow, I need to sleep, night night, Frydee."

"Frydee?" Frydee couldn't believe his ears, "He still calls me that, even after all those years apart?" Frydee felt an extremely bitter feeling wash over himself, as he soon began to feel guilty for the things he had said to Jonas. Staring heavily at the sleeping figure, Frydee couldn't help but recall those happy, but bitter memories of their time together, before he had been put to sleep, "Now that I'm awake," his whisper sounded lonely, "I'll protect us, just as I had once done before."