Satan dreams of a black pit below the world. He falls in it, dim stars blinking past. The air is warm. He cannot close his eyes. Redness and orange spreads across his vision. Cool, salty water rains from below. It leaves the sandy ground beneath in monstrous spirals, reflecting the setting of a sun that wasn’t there. Satan hits the sand softly. The beach is hot and wet. He sinks in it. The black-red sky above is lost in the grains. Satan turns and tumbles, losing sight of what way is up. He cannot breathe. The sand smells of dead things. Then he finds the other side. Satan bursts into fresh air, coughing and spluttering, sand caked across his pale body. The sky is a cheerful blue. Children make sandcastles and play in the water, their parents watching from under colourful umbrellas. The beach stretches off into the distance. To Satan’s left is the deep blue ocean. To his right is the bustling city of Winchward Beach. Massive hotels and resorts border the beach. Casinos, malls, amusement parks, apartment blocks and expensive parks; Winchward Beach is not how Satan remembers it. It’s become a realized version of itself. Satan climbs from out of the sand and lays on the beach, his chest heaving as he breathes. The droves of tourists don’t seem to pay any attention to the red-eyed, horned man that dug himself out of the sand. Satan sits up and considers his options. If he just stays still, would he wake up naturally? His current theory is that the Beach is a dream world that the DLF has pulled him into. Under that understanding, do the other rules associated with dreams still hold weight? Satan pinches himself. Doesn’t work. A stray brochure flies over on a sudden gust of wind and plasters itself over Satan’s face. He pulls it off and looks at it. At the top of the brochure is a cartoon depiction of Abaddon with a smiling face drawn over his glowing head. Under it is a caption. It reads-

Welcome to sunny Winchward Beach!

There’s something for everyone in our peaceful city!

Fun for the whole family in our winch-powered, unlicensed amusement parks!

Six star resorts for our wealthy visitors, complete with real-looking palm trees!

For the more rebellious, the Winchward Museum is a perfect meeting spot for secret freedom-fighting sects!

And don’t forget the exclusive show headed by our own demon sisters, Lilith and Aosoth! See back for more details.

Satan doesn’t appreciate the brochure’s tone. He flips it over.

Lilith / Aosoth Plague Festival! Free tickets! All invited! Ten days only!

The rest of the brochure is taken up by cartoon portraits of Lilith and Aosoth, and a list of times and locations for their various ‘performances’. Satan figures he should attend them for as long as he’s in Winchward Beach. The DLF is planning something, and Satan wants to know what it is. A trap, probably, but it never hurts to try. Satan checks the pamphlet again. The first performance is in an hour on the same part of the beach where he stands. Convenient.

‘Hey, Archey!’ says a voice, or rather someone says with a voice. Voices don’t talk. People do. Nevertheless, Satan recognizes it.

‘Beelzebub,’ he growls.

From some ways down the beach, the Lord of the Flies, looking like a 70s British rock star, strolls over.

‘Please, call me Double B,’ he says.

‘How about you start calling me Satan first?’ Satan replies.

Beelzebub bends over in a mocking bow. ‘As you wish, my lord.’

Satan watches the demon coldly. ‘What do you know about this?’

Beelzebub shrugs. ‘Tourist hotspot. Tropical climate. Humidity’s a killer in summer.’

‘You know what I mean,’ says Satan.

‘I’m not responsible for this, if that’s what you’re asking.’

‘Then who is?’

The sun begins to approach the horizon and the sky shifts to a deep purple.

Beelzebub turns to watch it. ‘Dunno, mate. I can tell you whoever made this is part of the DLF, or at least allies with them.’

Satan tries to gauge how much of what Beelzebub is saying is the truth. The Lord of the Flies had always been cockier than his fellow demons due to his eternally high rank. That makes him untrustworthy.

‘So how do you know about this then?’ Satan asks. ‘How are you... here?’

Beelzebub scratches at his moustache. ‘Just woke up here one day in my dreams. Happened with a bunch of other demons too. Now whenever I go to sleep I come back here.’

‘And nobody told me about this?’ Satan asks.

‘You probably woulda cut them in half if they did, mate.’

Before Satan can reply, the ocean erupts in a plume of foam. From the depths a stage rises up, equipped with expensive lighting, audio equipment and a neon sign that reads LILITH / AOSOTH. Standing on the stage are the two demons themselves. Lilith still wears her plague doctor mask and Aosoth her gas mask, but they don trendy modern clothing instead of antiquated dresses like back in the museum. From out of nowhere, a crowd of screaming fans appear on the beach, all in Lilith / Aosoth merchandise and cosplay. The cosplayers especially bother Satan.

‘Guess it’s starting early,’ says Beelzebub.

From up on their neon stage, Lilith and Aosoth erupt into song and dance; light-hearted and poppy, sung in a language Satan had never heard.

‘Their last album wasn’t great,’ Beelzebub says, raising his voice over the music. ‘Don’t know why the kids are so into them.’

Satan simply shakes in head in confusion. After a few minutes of singing (in what Beelzebub informed him was Korean), Satan begins to notice that the ocean around the demon sisters’ stage is turning a deep red. He turns to Beelzebub to mention it, but the Lord of the Flies is no longer there. The rest of the cheering crowd pay no mind to the disconcerting colouration of sea. Satan tries to move to find Beelzebub, but he finds himself unable to. He looks down. Tendrils of blood snake around his legs, keeping him rooted in place. Satan tries to kick them off, but instead they grow tighter, pulling the demon king off his feet. Slowly, they drag him through the crowd. No one pays any attention to Satan. He thrashes and squirms, trying to wriggle free. It’s no use. The tendrils drag him into the blood red ocean. Lilith and Aosoth move onto their next song, just as Satan is pulled under.