Sub-lets in Hell, chapter 1. (Patreon)

Happy Freedom day if you're an American, and happy Thursday if you aren't. Finally, as promised, I can offer the first chapter of this. Please enjoy.

The chopper slowed, the revs of the engine lightening up into only a dull roar. It was a modern machine, but that didn't always translate to quiet. I kept the headset on as the land began to loom larger, the desert coming into focus second by second.

I was back where it had all started. Back home, of all places. He was still out there, still looking for me, yet my handlers had decided that I was to come back home once again in my military service, because why would I come back here again after already coming back here again?

Surely I wouldn't be that stupid, right? Instead, it was thought that He would look for me at the other front, like in Russia or Poland.

My military service had been cut short, as I'd expected. It had for the entire team, and we'd all been assigned to back line positions. I wasn't sure what I'd be doing, but teaching and recruiting had both been mentioned. I suppose I'd know better in an hour, my boss's boss was down there somewhere.

Karen was too, likely at the landing pad. Whatever the deal was, I'd be doing it here... unless I was playing keep-away. I was certain there were plans in place to deal with Him. Somehow.

There was no way to deal with Him. He had to be worse than Her, and she had kicked our collective asses as if it were nothing. Killed people in front of me before I could even react. A mercy of sorts, to both them and me; they likely hadn't felt a thing, and it was hard to torture yourself with what ifs when it was over in an instant.

The heat began to hit me as the chopper settled in with a bump, the rotors slowing.

It was just us... just Clay and I. The others had all been offloaded at the airports, either the first, somewhere in Virginia, or the second, somewhere in Texas. We had been the sole passengers of this flight, and it had been a boring one. The pilots wouldn't even talk to us. We could hear their chatter sometimes, but that was it.

It had been a pleasant day weather wise at least, but I'd slept on the flight over, and a few hours in a helicopter was more than enough to make me... antsy.

Clay just slept more, somehow. As if he was hardwired to when in the air. I shook him awake as I stepped off; one of the pilots had already left, leaving the other to go through the power down checklist alone. Kind of an asshole thing to do, in my opinion.

It was enough to tell me the flight was over, however.

Clay was right behind me, shaking his head clear as he crouched low. Crouching low was the smart thing to do, even if Karen was there waiting on us with a bright plastic smile on her face. She seemed not to care about the wind and dust kicked up at all; she was staring right into it. Clay took my bag as well as his own; he didn't seem bothered by the extra weight.

She was far enough away, we could straighten up and salute. Karen returned it half-hazardly, and I could hear the chipper tone over all the other noise: "Hi! Welcome back!"

Should I greet her as my superior? She still was, but she'd told me not to before... no, I wouldn't overthink it. "Thanks Karen. How's your day going?"

"Decent. Could be better, could be worse. Mostly, it could be worse."

I didn't want to, but I had to ask: "Any sightings?"

Karen shook her head, still smiling. "Nope, not since three days ago in Paris. The big guy has been pretty quiet. He's likely got bigger fish to fry."

I didn't doubt that for a minute. Not even a second. We had done the thing, after all.

The eastern front was still getting hammered, but there was already a difference in demon sightings in the western countries. The work wasn't done by any stretch, but the light at the end of the tunnel was there, and it might not be the oncoming train after all.

I could be out there, making even more of a difference, but if He caught me at the front, that entire section of front would be gone. High command didn't want that... at least not yet. They wanted to milk the PR, but they couldn't do that, so they would settle for quiet ceremonies and medals honoring me for posterity. So that when He finally did catch me, humanity would know who it was that got skinned alive, then burned to death over weeks; or whatever else He had planned for me in retaliation.

He couldn't be happy. I'd be delaying that meeting as much as possible. I'd also be carrying my service weapons. The last bullet and all that. I wasn't sure it would help, but it couldn't hurt.

"Well! come on, you'll get hot, standing here like that! You aren't dressed for the weather."

I hadn't been getting hot, but shade would not go amiss. Clay was sweating already, but that was Clay.

"Anyone else from the old class here?" Had anyone else made it?

Karen shook her head. "No, there are still a few around, but they are still in rotation for another couple of months."

That was... disappointing. I'd hoped our class would buck the trend, but it seems we hadn't. Clay and I had, of course, at least so far... come to think of it, best not to dwell on such things.

Karen hustled into the shaded corridors we knew, and we followed at similar speeds, dodging those uniformed functionaries who had to flit to and fro in every place like this in order to do the busy work to keep it going.

The recruits were also here of course, men and women who would sell their souls dear, just like we had. Clay met my eyes and nodded firmly; maybe our sacrifice would end the cycle, and these would be the last. We could make it the last; we just needed to work just a little bit harder, a little bit longer.

That much would be worth it. I'd be able to do a lot more, the longer I could stay free.

We started going up. The more you went up in the tower as a general rule, the more important you were. Also, the more in shape you were, since the stairs were no joke past the tenth floor; they went from a large staircase winding around the outside to a much smaller staircase winding around the outside. The inner staircase was an even bigger mess, but it was also farther away, and Karen appeared to be in a hurry.

It made sense she would be, but that was a problem for future me - well, future by maybe five minutes me.

The big boss wanted to speak to us, so that made sense. Only the need for secrecy had kept him from greeting us as soon as we hit stateside, according to my immediate bosses. The Colonel had been laughing and shaking his head about it while seeing us off. Not that admitting that I saw all that would be a smart thing to do.

Karen reached the top, the very lofty top where there were five rooms, five offices set in a circle as the staircase petered out. One of which, the one directly across from the stair landing, was for the man in charge himself.

Did he mount these stairs every single day, at his age? That was actually pretty impressive; Clay and I were in the best shape of our lives, and I wouldn't want to make this trip however many times a day.

Karen didn't even hesitate; she just opened the door and went right in; with nothing else to do, we followed. Clay the brave let me lead, which was fine. It was just fine; after fighting Her and dealing with Him, the grand old man here was properly put into perspective.

He still looked as stern as ever, but he was getting up and holding his hand out, which made all our salutes awkward.

He returned the salute smartly, then held his hand out again: "No need for that when it's just us. Not anymore."

I wasn't sure how to respond to that. "Thank you, Sir."

The old man looked a little more old, a little more wrinkled. Even so, he still looked relatively young and vital, barrel chested with toned arms. He still looked capable of wrestling a bear and winning. Who knows? He might have; it wasn't like I knew all of his past.

"So, first off... " the old man muttered, pulling a box from his desk. One of four boxes. "I'd have liked to have done this with all the pomp it deserved, but we can't for obvious reasons. He opened the case to reveal a set of silver bars, and pulled them from the box to pin them on me, in a ritual as old as armies themselves. "Congratulations, Captain."

That was quite the rank jump... and if Clay got the same, by presenting them to me first, I'd technically outrank him. But Clay already had a rank on me, so surely he'd be a major?

He was not. The next box was for him, and the same bars were nestled within. "Congratulations, Captain."

It was on purpose then. The next box contained... a silver star.

"The President wanted to give you the medal of honor to you both himself, but I managed to talk him out of it. It's supposed to take time, and someone putting you in for one anyway. This gets the point across just as well among those who know, and can be more low key. I wouldn't give up any hope of that."

I already knew the rule; I'd be putting in my own for medals of honor as soon as I could fill out the forms. Suspicious gallantry for not only dealing with what we dealt with, but me as well. I wasn't the best company; not anymore.

I'd also put in to have them released from service, if they wanted it. I might have enough pull for that now, since the old man himself was decorating me.

"Thank you, sir." Clay said as he was pinned in turn. I guess I should start thinking and calling him Cassius again. I'd been calling him Clay for months now, for the entirety of the mission... but here he was known slightly differently. Same as I was, really.

Nah, I'd still call him Clay; if he objected, then I'd switch. Clay had just been easier than Cassius; fewer syllables - and since I'd been the one to give him the name in the first place, I could change it. At least, he'd never called me on it.

Come to think of it, Clay had been Golem's actual name... and yet neither had been confused about who and when I'd been talking to. As expected, but it hadn't happened even once.

No, focus, a general was talking to you.

"Now, I can't retire you. I'd like to, but we're still shorthanded. I can however, see you both stay here while I give you your next assignment."

That smile told me the general was plotting something.

"While you're here, you can contribute; how about a teaching position? We have a few openings, and the recruits could always use a more experienced hand in their development. I'm sure the local police could always use some assistance as well."

Was he... offering me my old job back? Offering me a teaching position here, knowing how essentially radioactive I was now? The big guy could probably go through this entire tower by himself... yet at the same time, if I was safe anywhere, it was here; the wards carved into each wall were no joke.

Of course, I couldn't live here, and it was unlikely I'd be able to stay. I could maybe see the end of my first tour here, but even if nothing went wrong, my second tour would surely be in Russia or Poland.

Still, it was something. "I'm not sure how well I can teach, Sir, but I'm willing to try."

It'd be nice to see the old crew again.

"Excellent. Karen, take them down and get them settled in their classrooms. You know the ones."

So Karen had known about this. Good to know.

We started back down, clearly dismissed... but not before I could see it in the old general's eyes: respect. Clear and obvious respect, with just a hint of wary caution.

Clay was getting none of that; at least none that I saw.

"This way Captains." Karen led us back down the stairs. Down almost all the stairs, in fact, and then into the second floor hallways. At least going downhill was easier than up.

We finally came into the middle, the prime real estate as far as teaching went. Karen pointed to the left classroom, just before the hall branched the final time like a starfish. The coveted center classrooms.

"You're in the left Snow, room 100. Cassius, you're in the right, room 101."

I had to ask. "What exactly am I supposed to be teaching?"

"With your expertise?" Karen returned with a snort. "Spells and survival. You've shown you know more about demon magic than most of us. Enough to be able to teach us specialists. And if you can't, Grex can."

That made sense. Well, some sense. It was nice knowing I hadn't read all those books for nothing. "Sure, I guess that works."

"As for Cassius... " I did not like that grin at all. "survival training." Karen finished with a flourish.

Clay was also grinning ear to ear, and I spared a moment to pray for mercy to those poor souls about to be thrown into the crucible.

Clay split off as I went into the room indicated for me. It looked much like a standard school classroom, with tiny cramped desks all set in neat rows before a massive thing that looked like it had been carved from an entire oak tree right there rather than moved.

Even with that, it bore the scars of use; burn marks and scratches, even gouges that spoke of pissed of demons to me. I was pretty sure I didn't want to ask what had happened to the last instructor using this classroom.

Despite all that, the floors were polished stone that sported a mirror shine, and every wall had shelves of books along it. Save the back, where there were recruitment posters, of all things... some sort of warped sense of humor going in I didn't get.

The ceiling had a fresco on it, of all things. Classical with Greek or Roman influence, and of course it was of demons and hell.

I didn't remember ever coming to this classroom when I was training here, come to think of it. Why was that, I wonder?

Many of the titles I could see were books I'd read... and multiple copies of them, too. They even had Agrippa here. Which was odd, since Agrippa was a bit of a posing hack. Whatever, I wasn't the book boss of these people.

The chair in front of the desk was a plush office one, and brand new. It literally still had the price tag on it, which was a mean feat since it had to have come in a box....

"When do I start?"

"Tomorrow, of course. The rank and file will be happy to give up some basic time to get properly educated."

Now that was a lie; not that the recruits wouldn't be happy to stop running out in the desert, but that the sergeants would let them stop running in the desert. If anything, my class would cut into their private or sleep time.

Nothing I could do about it, really. Just sucked to be them.

"Alright. I assume all the stuff I might need will be here when I show up? Text books or whatever?"

Karen cocked her head. "Youre thinking this will be like high school? None of that, think college."

Was she stupid?

The woman slapped her forehead: "right, you didn't go to college. At least not yet."

Likely not ever.

"How this is going to work is, you'll be taking a professorial role; you go through the basics, then anything else you think they need to learn. They don't have demons yet, so all they really need is the basics, but you can go into the theory or anything you might have found useful in the field that we didn't teach you."

Well hell, that was an entire semester all to itself. "Got it. So, no materials needed?"

Karen gestured around the room; "no more than what you see. Well that and maybe some paper, since computers and spells don't seem to mix."

She meant computers and demons. I shuddered to think of how many PCs had died to neophyte summoners and demon attack. There were computers here, of course, computers were everywhere. But this wasn't one of those safer spaces.

"Okay, this is the room. Let me show you where you'll be staying."

What? "I'm staying here?"

Karen stopped and turned back around. "Well yeah, where did you think you'd be staying? The old apartment?"

Well yeah, I kind of had. It didn't even occur to me that I'd have to stay at the tower. I didn't think there were that many people who stayed here full time. Then again, the tower was one of the most secure places in the world because military personnel stayed here full time, so what did I know?

"Okay fine, lead on."

Karen walked right past Clay's classroom. I guess he wasn't staying.

Karen led me to the South entrance, the main entrance, and out the door. This time, there was some traffic, and it was mostly enlisted. Some bore the hallmarks of veterans, the walk and shifting gaze, the assessment of threats.

The way they locked on to me and followed me as I walked past them.

The others were clearly distracted and rushing to wherever they were going, which showed how sheltered they'd been. They wouldn't be of any use if this place were attacked, despite the sidearms and silver hanging from their belts.

It was funny, they all had silver on them, even the secretaries. Small daggers, but they had them. Even an army of demons would have to pause when faced with this much... or that was what some people no doubt thought. I knew that a proper squad of what I'd faced, what we'd faced, near or in Berlin would rip through this place and kill dozens before being stopped. Even if the staff here were fanatical and throwing themselves at them silver first.

"You're doing it," Karen stated, clear amusement in her voice.

"Doing what?"

"When people get back after a tour, they look at this place with eyes like yours: plotting where the shaped charges should go, where the machine gun nests should be. Ways to make the place more viable, defensively."

Sounded like a good idea to me. "So I'm not alone in thinking it could use that."

Karen shook her head, the bright sunlight reflecting off and sending fractals scattering. I should probably find out what shampoo she was using for that to be a thing. I'd been using an off-brand combination thing.

The warm sunlight was better than the onset of winter, and brought home the fact that I was home and winter's onset didn't really matter. All those around me, recruits and old hands alike, were wearing standard uniforms without coats. Some were even ditching the hats that were part of those uniforms, carrying them in hand while soaking up the sun, much as Karen was.

It was nice.

"One of the things you'll appreciate while here, is that due to your rank you'll be able to summon your demon, or in your case demons, without permission. So you don't have to worry about me finding out what you're up to anymore: the wards log it, but don't prevent it."

That was a nice thing. I didn't mind that they could track Grex, so long as the wards didn't stop him. What that said about my mental health and how far I trusted Grex, I wasn't sure I wanted to address just yet.

Demon or not, Grex had come through for me so far; I'd expected a betrayal long before this.

We moved out to the outskirts of the base... where I'd not really been before, except to run or march past it. The cracked asphalt was in decent shape, of course, even better than the roads in town were if I were being honest, and the absolutely straight road went from military purposed buildings to small houses, all painted a white which seemed to soak up the sun and all the same design with only a few variations.

They were small one story houses, either designed for a single occupant or small families. The driveways were even on the same side for them all. There were lawns, filled with some scrub growth and dying grass. Just enough to hold the dirt down during wind storms, and some of the more enterprising had even planted some bushes and flowers; they seemed to be doing well. Water was no doubt shipped in for that.

There were a few different streets like this, I knew. The backyards were also the same, with in between. Most had fences, and some few had dogs, I new from past experience. Most of the dogs didn't get rambunctious or noisy in the sun, but at night, if you were out and about, you would hear them all, as they heard you.

Karen led me to the third one to the left on the street; one with a slight difference... an extra room added on after the house itself was built. There was no live vegetation in this yard, and no car in the drive.

With a flourish, Karen produced a key, hanging from a very large and empty key ring. She mounted the steps and crossed the porch, stomping with some authority. They key fit in the lock, and the door opened with a slight squeak.

The she waited. Whatever, let's see how bad it was.

It was empty; the front room was devoid of furniture. "Welcome home!" Karen declared.

What? "This isn't yours?"

"Of course not, silly. I live in my apartment, you know that. I haven't moved."

I thought she had a house here too; I thought she'd just be letting me use it. The idea of having my own home... not an apartment, but a home, even a military one... it felt odd. Like I'd passed a milestone or something.

Karen Grabbed my hand and put the absurdly large key ring in it. "There you go! Your car is a little... distinct, so you might want to just let your father keep it for now. Whatever you decide, we can get a car delivered to you if you want it. If you need anything else, feel free to call me Captain, and I'll get people on it. But for now, I've got to go; a hero's work is never done!"

She flew off the steps and was two steps down the street before I could finish yelling out thanks. She really didn't want to talk to me right now. Something I could respect.

Time to get started then. Shut the door first, and "Grex, veni huc!"

The caress was normal, and so were the words: "I've been so lost without you, Mistress."

It was still gross. I shook the hands off: "I'm sure you were. Check this place with me. I know it has some protections, so find and identify them - without taking the place apart."

He was better at that than I was, being able to detect signs and sigils with the potential to hurt or restrict him, no matter how well hidden they were.

"As you command," he moved with his usual easy grace and confidence, pulling a well-worn piece of chalk from his pocket. I knew from past experience that the dust from it wouldn't taint his hands or that pocket, despite the thing being in there for months at least. Whenever he needed something to write with, he always had that chalk.

He marked two spots on the wall, both on the outer wall and pointed inside, at us. A third spot opposite the door... Yeah, that eggshell white wallpaper was not enjoyable and would have to go. Army decor was the worst decor, now and forever.

To the right of the living room was the kitchen, and it was even larger than the one I had in the apartment. It even had a dishwasher, of all things. A utility room, with a washer on one side, dryer on the other, with a hall closet. A small hallway that led around and back to the other side... and the bedroom.

To the side of that, the bathroom, which was complete and had a small closet to the side that opened into it. A bit further, and I could head left to get back to the living room, or to the right to the extension I'd seen from outside.

The extension that had been added looked for all the world to be a library; it had thew shelves for it, same as the classroom. Large shelves made of heavy, dark stained wood running across two of the walls. The other two, aside from the window, bore a heavily scarred bench running the length of it. I could smell some old chemical burns still wafting from it. A clear spot for a desk, but that was moved out. So a small lab; a place where magic happened.

There was no dust anywhere; the place was clean. A recent move? Or had this house sat here, and some poor enlisted come in to make sure it was clean? How was any of this supposed to help me hide? Wasn't this going to be the first place the Big S checked? If he did, and I could somehow ghost under his eye, I'd be safe for awhile. But surely no one was under the illusion that the big guy couldn't run through this place like a wolf in a field of sheep.

There was something scary about that... even these here, vets included, hadn't seen what we'd seen. What I'd seen. Someone who wasn't the big guy could have ripped us so far apart that they would have needed a squeegee to clean us up, myself included.

Not even the general himself had seen that; not even my mother had. They knew in their heads how dangerous my enemies were... but they hadn't seen it for themselves.  It wasn't engraved in their mind or heart.

The wards might be enough. If I made them stronger. Much, much stronger than the standard stuff. Not just this house, either. I'd need to find a way to make much stronger wards all around the base, starting with the fence and layering it as I went deeper, and all without giving the game away.

After all, if it were me, seeing such strong wards would tell me there was something here to protect.

Grex was in the bedroom, marking walls. "Grex. When you're done with that, get my furniture from storage. We'll be here for a bit."

The expected florid bow, covering a slight frown: "As you command, my Mistress."