Hell's Actor-Chapter 43: Lucifer’s Gift

In the middle of the night, Averie opened his eyes.

As the surrounding view registered in his brain, he clicked his tongue.

’What is this?’

He was not in Hyerin’s apartment, where he was certain he fell asleep.

"Is this... Hell?"

The familiar walls of the apartment were nowhere to be seen. There were no electronics, no items of convenience, and no cozy sheets. Even his female friend was absent.

The ceiling of Hell dripped blood as souls of the unfaithful were swept away by heavy winds.

Cries of pain echoed throughout the caverns that led to the grim sites of torture and punishment.

Everything in Hell served to punish the sinners. Even the stone floor he lay on was made of burning coals.

A row of naked men and women passed by Averie. They were being flogged mercilessly by the gray-skinned emancipated demons.

What could be more of a distressing sight than that?

But Averie simply shook his shoulders. To him, it was all just a minor inconvenience.

He stood up, looked around, and began walking toward the most feared chamber in the entirety of Hell. He strolled towards Lucifer’s abode.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to walk too far. The entity he wanted to meet was sitting under a burning tree, smoking a cigar. He was reading a book titled Paradise Lost.

"Lucifer," Averie called.

And the ancient creature looked up.

"You are early."

"Why am I here? Am I dead again?"

"No, you are very much alive. This isn’t reality, you see. This is a... dream."

"So... you are not the real Lucifer?"

Lucifer laughed. "Oh, I am very real. This may be a dream, but your current state isn’t—how should I put it—dream-like."

"Are you drunk, my good man?"

"Don’t believe me? Well, look how conscious of your decisions and thoughts you are. There is no incongruency, is there?"

Averie tried out a few things to confirm Lucifer’s words. Indeed, his explanation seemed convincing.

The two talked for a while—about his new life, Binsfeld’s Seven Princes of Hell, and so on.

Lucifer complained about how the Lucifer of BSPH and himself were so completely different. Like an old man, he ranted about historical inaccuracy in dramas.

"So," — Averie leaned against the burning tree — "why did you call me here?"

"I wanted to warn you."

Averie’s expression turned solemn.

"About?"

"There is something odd about the previous owner of the body you now occupy. His soul never reached Hell, so I can’t confirm anything—"

"Wait, wait, wait... What do you mean by that? He is dead, isn’t he?"

"He is dead, yes. It could be that he is in Purgatory or even in Heaven. Or..."

"He isn’t haunting me, is he?"

"Who knows? Anyway, there is something interesting about his past, and someone out there seems to know a lot about Averie Quinn Auclair. I just wanted to let you know."

There was something eerie about the way he worded it, but Averie could not point out what.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Well, I am bored, and you make for good entertainment." Lucifer grinned, his filthy skin showing a deep-seated bloodlust. "Make it interesting for me, will you?"

He lifted a finger as if he remembered something important.

"For delivering such a captivating performance, I have decided to bestow upon you a gift."

Averie wanted to ask countless questions, but his jaw would not open. And as he tried to claw off his melting skin, he woke up from his dream.

He was back in Hyerin’s apartment.

He got up and drank some cold water to calm his nerves. His gaze fell on a piece of paper lying on the floor in front of the apartment door.

He cautiously walked up to it and picked it up.

There was no envelope, no sender’s name, and no return address. It didn’t even have the recipient’s address.

It was definitely not sent by the post office. Who would deliver it in the middle of the night, then?

Averie unfolded the piece of paper. It was a note with only one sentence: I know what you are.

He frowned.

The wording concerned him. He could have shrugged it off as a prank if they had used who instead of what.

’Do they know about my transmigration? Do they know about Gene Conti?’

Lucifer did say something about it.

’Like me, was someone else brought to this world from Hell? Even then, they shouldn’t know about my identity, should they?’

He glanced at Hyerin. She was sleeping soundly on her bed.

’What is this about then?’

***

The next day, while everyone was speculating about the sixth episode of BSPH, Averie was in the middle of a cold shower.

He was singing a song Hyerin had introduced to him. It was about a stylish girl trying to seduce a bad boy.

While he was violently shaking his hips, something caught Averie’s eye. He walked up to the foggy bathroom mirror and wiped it with his wet hand.

"What the hell?"

On his chest, right over his heart, the letter ’P’ was tattooed.

"I—what, this wasn’t here before..."

It wasn’t too large, nor was it too small. It was half the size of his thumb.

No matter how much Averie scrubbed, it couldn’t be wiped or cleaned. It looked permanent.

There was no way someone could have tattooed on his body without his knowledge. So, the only explanation that Averie could come up with was the dream he had found himself in.

’Lucifer... He did say something about a gift. But what is this?’

Was his old friend trying to become a tattoo artist?

’Whatever this is, it will cost me, won’t it?’

Averie knew better than to trust anything Lucifer gave away. He was sure there would be a price to pay.

When Averie came out of the bathroom, Hyerin was reading the online reception for the fifth episode of BSPH.

It was rated 9.6 by the audience and the critics alike. It also registered an average TV rating of 36.3%.

"The sixth episode will be fun, huh? People are excited."

"You look sad."

"It’s the second last episode." She looked up from her phone. "A lot of people are regretful about the length of the drama, you know? Seven episodes is too short, they are saying."

"Better than overstaying its welcome."

"That’s true."

She picked up a pile of paper and placed it in front of Averie.

"Scripts. All for you."

Averie flashed her a big smile.

To him, this was like looking at a buffet. So much to choose from, so much to try out and criticize. He could not understand why, but he felt like calling someone a ’donkey’ or an ’idiot sandwich.’

"Before that, you should take a look at these." Hyerin put another pile of paper in front of Averie. "Commercial Advertisement offers."

Averie gracefully slid the pile off the table.

"Nope."

Hyerin looked at the mess with tired eyes and sighed.

"At least, hear them out."

"Don’t want to."

"We need the money, you know?"

"For what?"

"Bodyguards."

"Just one should be enough."

"Personal stylist."

"We can easily afford one."

"Commercials pay a lot. It will make your life easier. I went out to the post office early in the morning for these... At least, have a look."

They had received a lot of offers, all of which Averie declined. He wondered if anyone out of the seven had chosen to do any commercials. But after a call to Peter Kang, he had his answer. Not one of them had chosen to do any commercials.

’What wonderful actors.’

"How about this, then?" Hyerin put forward another proposal. "It’s not a commercial, nor a drama. It’s a show where they interview celebrities while baking or cooking. It’s on SilkTube, so it has a very relaxed atmosphere."

"What is it called?"

Hyerin looked at her friend cautiously.

"NeRen’s Chilled Dessert."

’Damned fangirl.’

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freewe(b)nov𝒆l