Before she could decide which questions to ask, the zombie maids (as she thought of them) were done with her. She had been so taken with her new ability that she let the chance to interrogate the dark-skinned girl slip by. Now cleaned, combed and clothed with a silky nightgown and a matching robe, it surprised her how relaxed and refreshed she felt. They left her a tray of what looked like delicious food: cakes, pastries, even onigiris. For a hostage, if this was indeed that situation, she was being treated with full royalties. Alone for the first time since she woke up, she took in her surroundings. The walls and ceiling looked rough and of pure stone; like a cave’s. There were no windows on the walls, except for a large skylight on the ceiling which showed a dark, orange-red sky. Whether it was day or night, it was impossible to tell. The bedroom was excessively large. Surely three times the size of her flat. It had the basic furnishings which looked to be of high grade and a certain shine to it. The objects themselves seemed eerie, as if she could taint them with her touch. There was a coffee table, a large divan, a desk, its chair, an extensive wardrobe and an even larger oval mirror where she saw herself. Her usual unruly hair was so neatly brushed and groomed it startled her. How the zombie maids managed such an impossible feat was beyond her (something even her mother had never achieved). Her skin looked bright and fresh; whatever they did to her could only be a minor miracle. Her eyes strayed to the empty desk in the room's corner and she absently fumbled her fingers. They hungered to draw. It had always been a source of comfort; her means to find some direction whenever she felt lost. She also thought of Shiro, and a knot formed in her throat. She couldn’t remember what had happened to him after the incident. Was he taken too?

She rushed for the double doors in the room. Its handles were horn shaped, and she paused, recalling the last events before she blacked out. She shivered when she recalled his intense stare. Whether it was out of fear, anger, or still shock, she wasn’t sure. After a moment, she steeled herself, twisted the handles, and pushed. To her surprise, the doors were unlocked.

She poked out her head first. To her left, she saw a long, dark corridor lit with thick candles. Was she in an underground dungeon? When she looked in the opposite direction, she saw him only a little too late.

He observed her with a quiet, neutral expression, his head slightly cocked. He was tall, had silver-hair and his sharp eyes weighed down on her. As conspicuous as he was, it was what the creature next to him that made her flinch. Was it an ox? It looked like an ox. Yet it stood there erect on two legs; stocky and tall, at eight feet, she judged from its wide and curved horns. He wore silver armour that barely contained his barrel frame. His gauntlets held a thick axe that was about as tall as it was. It was, without a doubt, the biggest creature Mara had ever seen. Like a rock, it stood so still, so unmovable, staring down at her. Still, from its size alone, she didn’t comprehend how she missed it as soon as she opened the doors. The moment their eyes met, her skin crawled. Her body and mind started the fiendish battle of trying to reconcile what she was seeing against reality. Her mind denied his existence. He could only exist in dreams (or nightmares). Every cell in her body, however, told her he was very real. And yet, her inability to flee persisted. For a moment, all three of them seemed unsure of what to say.

‘Lady Mara. You’re awake.’ The man said first.

He spoke in her mind, and his voice was too calm. So calm that it even relented her mounting panic. Still, it was with great effort that she moved her eyes from the ox. He was a striking man when she looked closely. His pointy ears, silver eyes and his furry tail made it clear he was also far from being human.

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‘This is Pox, one of our finest warriors. I would say he’s quite harmless, but that just wouldn’t be true.’ — He said and Mara gasped. As though realising some mistake, the man’s neutrality broke, and he quickly said, — ‘Ah… what I mean is that he is a fierce warrior! He will be harmless to you; only you. He is not so harmless to others. Quite ruthless, actually; one swing of the axe and no more trouble. As I said, one of our finest. That is why he’s posted here.’ He said with a winsome smile.

The ox shook his head and grunted while Mara now panted. Increasing his calm demeanour, the man said, ‘Lady Mara, I’m trying to tell you he’s here to protect you. Please try to calm yourself.’

‘Protect me from what? The Shinigami?’ Mara asked, alarmed, and belatedly realising that she was using her mind as well.

‘Shinigami?’

‘Yes! The one with the horns and wings!’

A brief silence before the man chuckled.

‘My dear lady, shall we move inside? I feel there’s been a tremendous misunderstanding.’

***

Back in the bedroom, Mara still trembled. She quickly put some distance between herself and the man as she climbed onto the bed and left him standing in the middle of the room. He wore dark trousers, a waistcoat, a light grey buttoned-up shirt, a tie and a long dark grey overcoat. With his long silver hair loosely caught in a ponytail, he reminded her of a Butler. He was older, maybe by a handful of years. He was hard to read with his sharp features and formal demeanour. Even his smile made her feel inferior somehow. No matter how she looked at him, he was a mysterious and attractive man. His silver eyes fixed on her. Perhaps he studied her just as much. He lowered his head in a formal greeting. ‘I am Mammon.’ He said as he then lifted his head and gave another one of those cryptic smiles she found difficult to trust. It made little sense to say nice to meet you, so she said nothing.

‘But it is nice to meet you. In person, that is.’ He said.

Of course. If these people could speak with their minds, it would be natural to assume they could read them too!

Mammon moved two steps, and Mara flinched. He smiled again as he seemed to accept her state of hypervigilance and kept his distance. ‘Some tea then? You’ve not touched your food either. Is it not to your liking? We took care to include all your favourites.’ He said as he moved near the tray the servants had left. It hadn’t gone unnoticed, of course. The lemon cake slices were practically calling out to her. ‘I’m here to check on your wellbeing and answer any questions you have. I’m sure you must have many.’ He said settled himself on the divan and poured his drink. She couldn’t deny it. Her questions were ready to burst out of her. Though giving in to her eagerness so easily felt too exposing; too weak.

‘Alright. I can go first. Your guardian outside, Pox, is here for your protection. So you needn’t be afraid of him. I apologise for the confusion when I introduced him.’

‘Pox? His name is Pox.’ Mara finally said, unamused.

Mammon paused and flashed what appeared to her as an ironic smile. Perhaps he saw this as a minor victory since he got her engage. ‘Yes, his name is Pox. He is a powerful ox. His family thought it fitting at the time, when he was nothing but a cute little stot, but now he’s a grown man, a proud warrior. Its made his life quite difficult even to find a mate. So he’s quite sensitive about it. So please don’t question him about it. Despite how he looks, he’s quite a softie…’

She looked away. As if teasing or even engaging in conversation with a large armoured ox was something she could ever contemplate.

‘Also, there is no Shinigami here and you are not dead. Though you are in Hell.’

‘… I’m where?’

*Shinigami are gods or supernatural spirits that invite humans toward death in of Japanese religion, tales and culture.