@arachnaemboss
How long had it been, perhaps a century? That would make it... 1988. No, definitely later than that. Pen had lost track of the years.
Everyday sinners were coming in with a strange technology, some have been murdered with CD players, tape players, some buried with their favorite DVDs. Ah! Even the errant 'smart phone'. Useless without its network, but a small brick in an empire ready to be built. And with more deaths every year, hell was beginning to modernize. Faster than it ever had at least, what's to say at glacial speeds. Blink and you'll miss it.
There were parts of hell that were a little more than detritus, rubble and dust perfect to take cover from impending exterminations. Other areas had been fixed up, such as the hotel at the center of the pride ring. This was once and edifice to the king, a castle of sorts. But it's hallowed halls had seen better days. Light rays and dust motes, tattered curtains and thread their carpets.
Pentious had been out from the hotel today, scavenging for materials to complete the project that had been moving along painfully slow. And hours into only an ankles depth worth of luck, Pen swallowed their pride.
Surprising how an information stealer didn't have much information known on him, but some people knew his haunts. And at risk of being double dead, was braved anyway.
A knock to Zestial's door. Despite themself, Pent gave it a rhythm, --..--.