A group of people waited by the portal doors. Alfred attempted to count them. If he concentrated hard and went slowly, then, after a few attempts, he became distracted and double checked his count. Pointing at people to keep track caused him to receive suspicious looks. He counted about thirty-eight people on his third attempt without pointing or making overly obvious eye contact.

If he added Kunchen, Ebony, and about seven or so others he could see when he scanned the cave, then that meant there were at least forty-six people with either the collar or the half-moon mark. So, the vast majority of the people really choose to be Azoria’s minions, he thought, and that despite everything they saw.

There were a few people he took greater notice of. Darrone’s glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as he sat with his hands on his knees and his head hanging down in a half sleep. A short, petite woman in slightly oversized clothes slept with her head resting on his shoulder. Alfredo tried not to stare at the small woman’s stocking clad feet, but he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. The mark of the half-moon formed a burn scar that resembled a closed eye on the center of her forehead.

Yellow and brown stains caked the baseball player’s pants. A crusty brown stain ran over his collar and down his shirt next to the dark red splotches from his shoulder. He sat by himself with the baseball bat under his legs. His knees pushed up as his arms rested on them. Due to the smell, the others kept a degree of separation. The half-moon mark remained dormant over the center of his forehead. A pill bottle rolled around in his fingers so the small collection of large pills clattered inside. A box of nutrition bar made an impression in his pocket. He stared between his legs while muttering fearful whispers to himself.

Those who had the half-moon mark look pallid, ashen. Their eyes hung darkly with heavy circles. It had made their posture tense and their voices whimpering as they clutched onto pill bottles. Alfredo could only think about Circe. He’d been knocked aside by Azoria like he was nothing while the lady received six of those disgusting marks. Had she gotten pills too? Was she okay. He pushed fingers through his jet-black hair. It felt like he had a granddaughter.

A woman with flaming hair leaned against the cave wall with her arms around her chest. She looked towards the floor with a scowl. Her hair looked like flames. Alfredo did a doubletake for the third time upon checking her out. The young woman had smooth dark bronzed skin. But her hair rose from her scalp. It waved. It burned. Blue, orange, and yellow flames danced about her ears and over top of her head in place of her hair. The yellow bandeau had a flame logo with some writing that Alfredo couldn’t possibly read. He narrowed his eyes slightly but that caught her attention and she glanced his way with a frown. Those muscular arms and those abs spoke all sorts of danger. The slave collar tattoo wove darkly about a neck slightly thick for a lady.

Okay, she had they slave collar. Everyone left here had the slave collar or the half-moon mark, Alfredo thought. That meant they could be trusted. They’d either opposed Azoria or refused to decide. These misfits, they were a bit like him after all. They were the good guys. But wow, he thought, that lady with the flame hair looked like she could toss a piano into a third story window and she didn’t have a bad rack on her either.

Alfredo shook his head. The real question he had to ask himself was, could any of these people help him save Circe if that was still possible.

The Azoria tour guide flickered slightly as he approached her. It shocked him, but nobody else reacted.

“Hey, umm, demon boss lady, do yuh know how long it’ll be till we’re allowed to leave?”

Azoria adjusted her cap, flickered, and that’s when he noticed the bleeding holes through the center of her hands. The blood actually pooled on the floor. Alfredo squatted down and dipped his finger in it, though he wasn’t sure why. He swirled the blood around on his thumb and forefinger and sniffed. This wasn’t a hallucination, or if it was it was a really good one! In this place it became hard to tell.

“Hey, umm, demon boss lady, are yuh gonna answer my question or do we just haveta wait?”

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The Azoria looked at him patiently, flickered, and smiled. She put a hand out indicating the specific door she guarded, number three.

“The doors will open for the Sub-Demonian classes, the slave and the tortured respectively, in four hours, ten minutes, and twenty-three seconds. Please feel free to relax and enjoy our amenities while you wait. Being well rested, hydrated, and fed, is highly recommended before entering the dungeon. Slave and tortured classes will not receive a complimentary mint.”

“Right, I guess I’ll take a nap or something.”

The Azoria clone smiled politely despite dripping blood from wounds through both her hands. Alfredo, feeling a bit more alert, walked towards door number two. The Azoria standing guard smiled at him politely while clasping her hands against each other in front of her skirt. Blood dripped to the floor from a wound through the center of those hands.

Another woman in a pink dress stood in front of door number two. Water dripped from the folds of her dress but Alfredo had no idea where it could possibly come from. Her dress didn’t look wet. The pink frills frayed at the end with burnt fabric. Long black hair hung down in a trail over the front of the pink garment and hid her face. The skin of her hands bloated pale. He heard sobbing from behind the hair. It didn’t intimidate him because she had the slave strings weaving around her neck where he could see past the hair. She was part of the resistance, a certified member of the ILA union.

“Hey, yuh wouldn’t happen tuh know a way to get outta here. I have a friend on the other side who’s in trouble and I can’t wait for these doors to open, ya know?”

Linh didn’t bother to part her hair even look at him, but he did hear the sobbing subside slightly followed by a distressed voice, “If I knew a way I’d have already left. I’m cursed to be a danger to the man I love. Here’s here. He died too. I wanted to see him. But my curse would have me kill him. Nobody here cares, nobody here listens. I’m stuck standing here, so tired, desperately waiting to run from my love.”

Alfredo stood, he looked down at his feet, then up at the ceiling, “Alright then, I’ll leave you to it.”

A slender hand reached out and pressed his shoulder, “Do you fear me?”

Shoulders shrugged, “Horror movies never did it for me. Real life has enough to be afraid of if yuh know what I mean.”

“I’m not Well Child! My name is Linh Hoa! Linh Hoa, do you hear me. I’m not Well Child!”

Alfredo put a hand on her shoulder, “Okay there, you’re not Well Child. Anyone with the guts to raise her fist against Azoria is okay in my book. You’re not a monster.”

The water dripping from under the dress subsided as her hair parted to reveal a pleading brown eye. Her body leaned against him as their eyes met. They realized they were touching each other’s shoulders. He could see her pale cold lips blow some wet looking hair forward.

“I just want to be human again,” she whispered.

Suddenly she jumped against him. Her body felt oddly cold and moist. A suffocatingly heavy atmosphere surrounded her that made it difficult to breath. Alfredo endured it to give her a pat on the back. He felt her small body press against him with a weight that was like slabs of bricks piled on a wooden board. If this woman got any heavier, he felt like the air would rush out of his lungs and never go back in. The feeling made him choke as he felt hair in his throat.

“Lady,” he gasped, “Your powers gonna kill me!”

Linh jumped back; her hands went to her face. Fingers separated strands of black hair so her eye could see through. Coughing and gagging struck Alfredo as he doubled over. Bright red covered his face as he cupped his hand and violently coughed until a hunk of bloody black hair splattered over his palms. He took a few steps back, cleared his throat with powerful coughs, and clenched the mass of bloody glass laced hair in his hand.

“Got one of them curses?”

Linh nodded, put her hands to her face, and resumed sobbing. Alfredo gulped. His throat had become sore and tasted of iron.

“The closer I am to my love, the worse it becomes. But it should get better once we leave this chamber.”

“I guess we’ll see about that. So, your name is Linh, eh? Look, as long as you’re careful about not killing me, ya wanna help me out? I got a friend to save.”

A clear brown eye continued to peer at him through outstretched fingers and separated inky black hair. It twinkled a little at the older heavy-set man with the pot gut. He had a nice head of dark hair that gave him an aura of mystery. A step forward halted by his hand gesture. Pale lips pursed in frustration as her body trembled. Hands tugged at her hair.

“Please let me help you! I’ll try not cause trouble and will stay clear if my curse activates!”

Alfredo flashed her a smile and gave her a thumbs up, “Since we gotta wait around for the next four hours, I’m gonna go back to my group. The old man’s pretty powerful, maybe he’ll have some idea how tuh fix your curse problem or something like that, ya know? And the woman is a doctor, really smart too, just gotta sleep a lot because that’s her curse.”

Linh pulled at her inky wet hair; her body tensed as her knees shook. She leaned forward. One visible eye looked as if it was about to drip tears.

“Yes, let’s go! Thank you so much!”