Chapter 1
Jiro was never one to believe in the impossible, yet here she was, standing in the midst of a vast and strange world that seemed to mock everything she had known. The moment she fell, it wasn’t like hitting the ground or crashing into anything. It felt more like a ripple through her body, a sudden weightlessness followed by an immediate, sharp pressure on her chest that left her breathless. One second, she had been in her room, phone in hand, talking to Denki, and the next, she was somewhere else entirely—somewhere that felt both familiar and completely alien at once.
The ground beneath her feet was soft, like plush velvet. She instinctively reached down, fingers grazing over the deep red, intricate rug that seemed to stretch out for miles. The air was thick, almost sweet with a heady, intoxicating fragrance that reminded her of flowers but with an edge—something darker, almost sinister. She blinked rapidly, her mind struggling to make sense of her surroundings.
“I... Denki?” she whispered shakily, holding the phone to her ear with trembling fingers.
On the other end, Denki's voice cracked through the static, still frantic. “Jiro? Jiro, are you ok? What’s going on? You’ve been gone for—what? Fifteen minutes? What’s happening?”
Jiro wasn’t sure how to answer. The world she found herself in didn’t feel real. Everything was too vivid, too bright, and too... perfect. Everything about it screamed "luxury," but not in a comforting way. More like a gilded cage, a vision of beauty that promised torment beneath its surface. She walked cautiously, her boots making soft thuds against the carpet as she surveyed the landscape before her.
Gleaming marble pillars soared into the sky, their tops twisted and adorned with gold and jewels, bathed in a soft, dreamlike glow. The atmosphere was warm, almost too warm—cozy, inviting. The place felt designed to lull her into a sense of false comfort. But something gnawed at her insides, a cold shiver running down her spine, whispering that this place was wrong.
“Denki, something... something’s wrong. I—I don’t know where I am. It’s like I’m trapped in some kind of dream. No, not a dream—Hell. This feels like Hell.”
Her voice wavered, and she tried to steady herself. How had this happened? How had she ended up here? She didn’t remember anything that led to this...
Her thoughts were interrupted when a soft giggle echoed in the distance, light and airy. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Slowly, Jiro turned her head. The sound seemed to come from all around her, making it impossible to locate the source. It was as though the laughter was an all-consuming presence, wrapping around her like an invisible force. She instinctively pressed her phone tighter against her ear, but Denki’s voice sounded distant now, muffled as though she was underwater. She couldn’t focus on him anymore. The world around her seemed to stretch and warp in a surreal way that felt like something out of a nightmare.
“I—Jiro?” Denki’s voice faded, and she could no longer hear him clearly.
The sound of footsteps, clicking against the marble floor, echoed softly behind her, growing louder. Jiro spun around, her heart racing, the phone still clutched tightly in her hand. Her breath hitched in her throat.
She saw her—the first of many ruler she would see in this bizarre place.
A woman stepped into view, her figure framed by a golden archway. She was impossibly beautiful, almost to the point of being unsettling. Her skin was pale, like porcelain, and her eyes were a rich, glowing amber, sharp with amusement. Her long, blondish silver hair cascaded down her back in perfect waves, and her attire was regal—an elegant gown with gold embroidery, its hem trailing along the floor.
But it was the crown on her head that drew Jiro’s attention. It wasn’t just any crown. It was intricate, adorned with gold, studded with jewels—ruby, emerald, and diamond—but the gold seemed to gleam with an unnatural intensity. It felt almost as though it were alive. A vampire queen, Jiro thought fleetingly, but she couldn’t quite understand why.
The woman smiled at her, a sweet, unnerving smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Ah, my guest has arrived,” she said, her voice smooth and velvety, like honey dripping from a spoon. “Welcome to my domain, sweet one.”
Jiro stepped back instinctively, her pulse quickening. “W-who are you? What is this place?” Her voice cracked as the questions spilled out.
The woman tilted her head, her eyes never leaving Jiro’s. “I am the ruler of Lust,” she purred, her lips curling in a smirk. “And you... you are in the first ring of Hell, my dear.” Her voice echoed with an almost musical quality. “You will find that this is only the beginning of your descent.”
Jiro’s stomach churned. She wanted to run. She needed to run. But her legs were frozen, trapped in place by an unseen force, by the sheer intensity of the woman’s gaze. The atmosphere around her shifted as the queen’s laughter rang out again, a sound that made Jiro’s skin crawl.
The plushies came into view then—dozens of them, each one small, impossibly soft, and held in the queen’s delicate hands. But these were no ordinary stuffed animals. Jiro's breath caught in her throat as she realized they weren’t holding plushies for comfort. They were holding needles. Long, slender, and gleaming, their tips sharp and poised. They seemed to shimmer, an eerie glow that made her dizzy.
The queen stepped closer, the plushies in tow. “These are no ordinary toys,” she murmured, her voice low and enticing. “They are imbued with the essence of desire, and they will seek you out. They will inject you with what you crave most... but only if you let them.”
Jiro’s heart pounded as the plushies began to stir, their eyes flickering to life. Her pulse quickened, and she stumbled backward, desperate to distance herself from the queen and her puppets.
“No... no! Stay away!” she shouted, but her voice barely reached her own ears, drowned by the overwhelming presence of the queen.
She spun, running with all the strength she could muster. But the plushies moved faster, darting across the floor like little demons, needles glinting in the air. Before she could stop herself, she tripped, the plushies swarming over her, their soft bodies like velvet restraints. She screamed, thrashing, trying to push them away.
And then it happened.
One of the plushies’ hands tightened around her neck—almost like it was holding her in place, choking her. Jiro gasped, struggling, trying to tear it off. She twisted the doll in her hand, and before she realized it, she had accidentally stabbed with a needle she had taken out from the plushie on the queen’s neck as well.
The queen’s eyes widened in shock, her mouth falling open in a strangled gasp. Jiro froze, her eyes locking onto the queen’s shocked face as she slowly collapsed to the ground, the plushies scattering in a chaotic swirl.
Jiro stood there, chest heaving, panic surging through her veins. She had... killed her? She hadn’t meant to. She just wanted to get away. The reality of what she had done hit her like a freight train, but before she could make sense of it, the world around her trembled, and the golden light dimmed, replaced by an eerie shadow. The plushies stopped moving. The queen’s figure twitched as though she were coming back to life.
Jiro didn’t wait. She bolted. Her feet pounded against the floor, her breath ragged, the sound of her heartbeat deafening in her ears. She didn’t know where the exit was, but she was getting out. She didn’t know how, but she had to.
“Denki!” she cried into the phone, but the connection was dead. The phone was no longer working.
Her only thought was escape.
And so, she ran.
Tears blurred her vision, and she wiped them away with trembling hands, but the fear gnawing at her chest wouldn’t let up. This... this wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real. But the warmth in the air, the luxurious surroundings, the way the plushies had attacked her, the queen’s face... it was all too real.
The queen was still there, she had to be. Even if she didn’t see her now, Jiro could feel the weight of the presence bearing down on her. She was still here, somewhere, watching, waiting. And Jiro had no idea what was going on, what she was supposed to do. Why had she been dragged here? Why was she alone?
“Denki!” she cried again, voice cracking with the strain. Her hand clutched the phone, but the screen was still dark. Still silent.
Her breath came in ragged gasps, and every corner she turned seemed to lead to another hall just as endless as the last. The labyrinth was never-ending, stretching out far beyond the boundaries of anything she could make sense of. She had no bearings here. No idea how to get out.
She stumbled. She was crying now, unable to stop it, the weight of her confusion and terror pouring out of her as she wiped at her eyes, desperate for answers. "Please, Denki... answer me. Please." The words choked out of her in broken sobs, her whole body trembling as she kept running. She couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t face whatever was lurking behind her.
Her feet carried her forward, propelled by instinct, when suddenly, she saw it—an archway. Not just any archway, but a massive door. It stood at the end of the long corridor, glimmering with a faint, unsettling golden hue. It looked almost like it was beckoning her, like it was the one thing in this nightmare she might understand.
"Maybe... maybe that's the way out," Jiro thought desperately, her brain racing as she dashed toward it.
Just as she reached the door, she stumbled, almost crashing into it. Her hands fumbled for the doorknob, her pulse thundering in her ears as she yanked it open. But before she could step through, a faint sound caught her attention. A buzzing. A ringing.
Her phone.
The screen flickered to life. Her thumb hovered over the button, trembling with a mixture of hope and fear, before she answered it.
“Denki?” Her voice was hoarse, cracking from the strain of running, of the emotions pouring out of her in ragged breaths.
“Jiro!” Denki’s voice came through the speaker, clear and urgent, but tinged with confusion. “Jiro, where the hell are you? What’s going on? You—” His voice broke off as though he’d been shouting into a void.
“I—I don’t know!” Jiro sobbed, her hand gripping the phone like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. “I don’t know what’s happening. I... I just fell, and there’s this place... and this woman—she was—” Her voice faltered, and she choked on the words, not knowing how to describe the madness around her.
“I’m scared, Denki. I’m so scared.” Her voice was small, trembling, as her tears fell freely, streaking down her cheeks.
“I—I don’t understand. You fell? Where?” Denki’s voice was frantic, his words coming in quick succession, but they only seemed to make her feel more lost. “You’re not—what is this? What do you mean, ‘this woman?’ What’s happening?”
Jiro didn’t know how to explain it. How could she? Nothing here made sense. The plushies, the queen, the overwhelming sense of dread that weighed down on her shoulders—it all blurred together in a haze of confusion and terror.
But something in Denki’s voice—a calmness, a sense of purpose—brought her a tiny flicker of hope. He was there. He was still there, on the other end of the line.
“Denki... I think... I think I’m in Hell.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, the words tasting bitter as they left her mouth. "I think I’m in the first ring.”
The phone was silent for a moment, and then Denki spoke, his voice low and serious. “Hell? The first ring?”
Jiro nodded, her breath hitching in her chest. “Yeah... The queen of Lust... I—I don’t know, Denki, but I’m scared. I can’t find a way out. I don’t know what to do...”
The line crackled, and then Denki’s voice became clearer. “Jiro... Listen to me. You’re not alone, okay? I’m not going anywhere. You need to keep your head. Just keep moving. Keep looking for the exit.”
Jiro swallowed hard, forcing herself to steady her breath. She wiped at her eyes, feeling the warmth of the tears on her face but focusing on Denki’s words. He was right. She couldn’t give up. Not now.
"Denki," she whispered into the phone, her voice breaking again. "I think I’m going deeper."
The phone line went dead again, but Jiro didn’t have time to react. The door in front of her swung open fully, revealing a realm even darker and more chilling than the first. The glimmering, seductive world she had fled was replaced by something far more oppressive, something that reeked of dread and danger.
And as she stepped forward into the second ring of Hell, the weight of the world seemed to crush her chest all over again.