Jonas watched as the man slyly tried to get answers from his friend, all while trying not to give away the fact he was earning money off that information. It took a little prodding from the worker but eventually, the conversation became more informative.

“Oh, really?” the worker asked with an expression full of interest and he finished with, “Okay, and you’re sure?” which told Jonas that the answer he wanted was just seconds away from him. The worker hung up and gave Jonas a look of distrust, “Alright I got the location, but send me the money first.”

“No problem, what’s your number?” Jonas transferred one hundred Sin Stones to the worker via the banking application. The man beamed as the transfer came through, and although the idea of double-crossing Jonas came to his mind, he decided it just wasn’t worth the trouble as giving the information away didn’t hurt him in the slightest.

“So, my buddy says,” he began, “If you want to get to Little Wrath City, you need to go to the old abandoned sewage plant on Exodus Street, then approach the blue doors from the southside, knock three times, and pay a toll of twenty Sin Stones,” the worker explained as Jonas memorized the instructions.

“Why so complicated?” Jonas asked, “Did your friend explain?”

“He told me that most of the entrances to Little Wrath City are guarded by gangs who collect passage fees, and most of them have their methods of weeding out unwanted customers,” he continued, “It just so happens that the abandoned sewage plant closest to us is the current territory of the Von Trip gang who as you can guess, charges a fee to get in.”

“Okay,” said Jonas happily, “Thanks for all your help.”

“No problem,” said the worker, and Jonas watched as he hopped into his rig and with a double honk of his deep horn, pulled off onto the empty street.

‘Looks like I’m headed to the sewers,’ thought Jonas as he pulled out his hell phone and began looking for Exodus Street on his map application, and soon he found that it was only twenty minutes away.

It was still midday by the time Jonas reached the front gates of the abandoned sewage factory. The grounds were littered with weeds, garbage, and bloodstains, while profane graffiti coated the brick walls.

The main gate was locked shut with a padlock, so Jonas quickly climbed over and landed softly on both his feet. Looking around, he didn’t see a single soul, but he did see the general direction where the southside door was probably located.

His stomach was turning, and the quiet loneliness of the abandoned warehouse did nothing to soothe his anxiety. It took just a few strange experiences for Jonas to realize that Hell was a place where he couldn’t afford to be either too careful, or too careless, and if he failed to find a balance between the two, it could be the difference between imprisonment and starvation.

‘I hope this gang doesn’t give me any troubles,’ but knowing his luck so far, Jonas could only assume that something was bound to go wrong. He soon approached a large double-sided door that was welded from pure steel, and at the top of the left side was a small window that could be opened for communication. Jonas’ stomach lurched and his heartbeat quickened as he walked up a small concrete ramp and hammered his knuckles three times against the door.

For a few seconds, the only thing Jonas could hear was the sound of his heart beating in his ears, and the quiet wind gently blowing chip bags around the sewage courtyard. Then he watched as that small window slid open and a pair of mean-looking brown eyes stared into his own.

“Yes?” the voice was gruff, and monotone.

“I want access to the sewers,” said Jonas.

“Transfer twenty stones to this number,” began the doorman who gave Jonas a number, and taking out his hell phone, he transferred money over to an account called the Von Trip Gang and waited silently for the transfer to go through. No words were spoken between them, and the awkward silence finally broke as a ringing notification sound went off.

“Payment was accepted,” the doorman said, “Welcome aboard,” and then the metal window shut. For just a split second, Jonas thought he had been duped, but before he could worry, a sound of clinking metal told him that a large lock had just been removed, and then the metal doors slowly opened.

Jonas stepped inside and came face to face with a very muscular man wearing dark green clothing. Looking around the room, Jonas noticed that five others were wearing the same clothing, and these people were all playing cards while seated around a poker table.

“You headed to Little Wrath City?” the bald doorman asked.

“That’s right,” said Jonas neither too kindly, nor rudely. The bald man pointed down a hallway just at the other side of the room.

“Go through the door at the end,” he began, “You’ll find yourself in a large sewer tunnel, then just follow the main pathway, and eventually you’ll reach the city.”

“Good,” said Jonas dully as he kept his face straight and began striding across the room, avoiding the gaze of the other Von Trip gang members who only briefly watched until their eyes fell back onto their game of cards.

Down the abandoned hallway, Jonas opened a door that led him into a very dark tunnel, where he found himself descending a set of metal steps. Landing on a stone pathway that was only six feet wide, he couldn’t help but turn his nose as he stared at a small river of sewage that was both chunky and flowing steadily through the darkness, “Fuck that stinks,” Jonas said out loud as he followed the pathway that had been gently lit with industrial lighting screwed into the stone walls, and it reminded him of something you might see in a bunker.

As he strode down the dark path, the only sounds were the echoing of his footsteps and the gentle rush of running water and bubbles. His nose was furrowed, and he tried his best not to use it to sniff. Jonas wasn’t sure exactly how long it would take to reach Little Wrath City, but he guessed he might be walking for at least an hour.

However, two hours later, Jonas realized that the entrance was much farther than he had once anticipated, and even when three hours had passed he still hadn’t reached the end.

He slouched against the side of the wall as he took a break, his eyes were starting to hurt from the dark and it seemed like the echoing sounds of footsteps had been burned into his eardrums, ‘Does this place even exist?’ he began to wonder, and he had a strange thought, ‘How the hell did Old Louie get to the surface so quickly?’ Jonas began to do the math in his head, ‘There is no possible way he could have walked nearly four hours and got to the auction from the time James called him to the time he healed me.’

Jonas was silent as he considered the possibilities, ‘There must be a hidden path that only he knows about, or I’m completely going the wrong way,’ but he seriously hoped it was the former of the two options. He rested for about ten minutes before setting off again, and luckily for him after another hour he managed to reach the very end.

Jonas came face to face with an industrial metal door, the kind he might find on a large boat, with the spinning wheel-shaped handle. He grabbed it with both hands and found that it required some power to turn, and putting his shoulders into it, he rotated the handle round and round.

Finally, he heard the lock click and he pulled the door open. A loud creaking sound boomed through the dark tunnel and it continued until Jonas was finally able to see the other side of the door, ‘Fuck!’ he thought in shock as he stared at a sight he was not expecting.

To describe Little Wrath City would require someone to have seen what a town located in a sewer would look like. Not counting the hundreds of people, the loud heavy metal music, and the supremely horrible stench, Jonas could only describe the city as being shaped like a large basket, and the door he came through was located along the top edge.

Looking to his right, he noticed that there was an extremely long pathway that curved around the edges of the wall, sloping downwards like a spiral staircase, and this pathway allowed the denizens of Little Wrath City to travel from the top to the bottom.

Ignoring the stares of the bored passersby, Jonas slowly peeked over the edge wall and felt his stomach turn. It seemed that the spiraling stone pathway went down for nearly a mile, and it continued so far down that Jonas could barely see the lowest level.

“Don’t get too close to the edge, boy,” said a greasy voice, “All it takes is one good push and you’ll be food for the crocs,” Jonas turned and metaphorically belched as he came face to face with a person who looked like they might have been the witch that lured Hansel and Gretel.

“Thanks,” said Jonas who backed away, and quickly made his way down the path, careful not to bump anyone less he ended up with some disease.

There weren’t many stores in Little Wrath City, and by the time that Jonas had made his way down at least three full bends, he realized that there was nothing but slave shops, inns, brothels, and gambling houses, ‘This is the real Sin City,’ he thought, as he noticed two dirty people screwing each other just over the balcony wall.

Down the way, Jonas could see a nasty fistfight occurring and it culminated with a small bleeding man being lifted off his feet while pleading for mercy, and then promptly thrown over the balcony wall to a multitude of loud cheers.

The man’s terrified screams echoed through Little Wrath City until his body disappeared into the darkness, and following it was the sound of what Jonas assumed was a whale diving out of the ocean.

‘How fucking big are those crocodiles?’ he wondered sympathetically as he shook his head, ‘Now where would I find an old quack doctor?’ he began searching through the dozens of people that filled the walkways, ‘Wait!’ he halted on the spot. A cold and dark realization swept over him, ‘Did I just gloss over a person being murdered?’ and his heart began to hammer as he realized the gravity of his error.

Jonas couldn’t help but slowly wonder if Hell had already begun influencing his mind, because he knew that if he had witnessed a man being thrown to his death while back on Earth, he most definitely wouldn’t have just gone along with his business.

Was he supposed to feel sick, or guilty, or perhaps he should have intervened? Jonas figuratively shook his head, how could he possibly have done anything. There was a dull feeling in his stomach, and instead of crying, or saying a prayer, Jonas took a moment to lock away his feelings of empathy and focused more on his drive to find Old Louie.

“Excuse me,” Jonas said to the first normal person he could find. “Do you know a homeless-looking quack named Old Louie?”

“Never heard of him,” said the man who had already begun walking away.

“Are there any doctors here?” Jonas asked a different person, moments later.

“Sure,” she said with a mossy smile, “I’m a doctor.”

“Never mind,” and Jonas walked away very quickly after noticing the dried blood around her crusty, overgrown fingernails.

“Old Louie?” asked a stout woman, “Sure, he’s just around this alleyway,” Jonas scoffed at her and tried someone else.

“I know Old Louie!” said a bald man excitedly, “If you see him, tell him he still owes me twenty stones!” but unfortunately the man didn’t know where Old Louie was. Jonas was at the point where he felt like he needed to start offering money when his ears caught onto an old raspy voice that was loud enough to be heard over the crowds of people, and what Jonas recognized as death metal.

“You little fuckers!” a raggedy homeless-looking man screamed as he was kicked out of a gambling house, “How could you hurt an old man, don’t you know that I’m a doctor!”

“Don’t come back until you pay your tab,” said a very big bouncer, “If I catch you around here again Old Louie, I’m going to toss you to the crocs,” to which Old Louie stuck out his long pink tongue and blew a rude raspberry.

“Who needs your damn gambling house anyways,” he began grumbling, “There are a hundred other ones I can visit,” and as Old Louie began walking down the spiraling pathway, Jonas practically sprinted towards him.

“Old Louie!” he shouted happily, and Old Louie quickly turned on the spot with his fists up, ready to fight.

“You?” he asked dumbfoundedly, “How’s your ass?”