"Precisely." He nods thoughtfully. "Not only are you the first female I am taking on a date, but you are also getting an exclusive tour of hell. No one but me would have been able to arrange something like this," he says as he throws his arm over my shoulder, pulling me to his side. "I paid the Custodian a small fortune for this favor. Very few can afford that," he tells me in a very serious tone.

"Yep, got it, Ze. You're rich." I chuckle.

"Very rich," he corrects. "So you see, this is an exclusive experience only I could give you," he makes sure to let me know.

I nod along, amused.

He, on the other hand, is very pleased with himself, his lips curled up in a smile.

We walk behind the Custodian. Curiosity brims inside of me the more glimpses I get of this hell. Who exactly are we here to see? What damned soul? I would inquire more of Ze, but it doesn't seem he's very inclined to tell me.

The different galleries where souls are laboring while being lashed and caned by the Custodians are not unlike the dark tunnels I toiled in while I was at the hacienda. Except for this unbearable atmosphere, there aren't too many differences. Who said there isn't a hell on earth, too? If one took away the supernatural element, the conditions are the same.

I quietly take in the slowly shifting environment. Every quarry is worse than the other, the atmosphere seemingly even more inhospitable, which makes it harder for the souls to work, and in turn, makes the Custodians more likely to hurt them. The punishments increase, both in frequency and gruesomeness.

As we get deeper into this hellish dimension, we leave the barren land behind as we come across the entrance to a subterranean mountain.

"What's this?" I whisper as we go inside. The air becomes heavier and warmer, affecting my body and my mind. Colors mix together, my sight becoming confused the more we descend. "It's so hot," I grumble, attempting to air myself with my hand. Sweat pebbles on my forehead, dripping down my face and neck. My clothes are already damp from perspiration. The air I breathe is hot too, and I struggle to fill my lungs with it.

Damn it. I squeeze my eyes shut as I shake my head in an attempt to chase the fog away.

I hate heat. I hate anything too hot and sweaty. I especially hate hot air.

Of course Ze would bring me somewhere that has all three. And this was supposed to be a fun getaway.

One thing's for sure. Ze has no concept of the word fun—not that I didn't know before, but this just solidifies it.