The Way to Hell

Chapter One: Hellraiser

'This is going to hurt even worse tomorrow.'

A sudden flush of water comes out from one of the toilet cells.

Great, just what he needed, some idiot as an audience to question his appearance.

Crouching to grab the clean T-shirt, he avoids eye contact with the man who silently paces toward the sinks. There is a moment of silence before the stranger turns the tap to wash his hands.

August inhales with irate, he knows when he is being gawked.

"Are you okay, mister?"

"I'm fine, tha..." he pauses suddenly, holding the wrinkled shirt in his hands and turns to glare at the person in front of him.

Not a man but a young woman greets his sight. Big grey eyes scan him from head to toe, lingering on his naked upper body with what seems to him like awe of his masculine features. A small, mischievous smirk begins to form on her face, rounding up her high cheekbones. "I wouldn't say that."

Unable to help himself, he offers a small grin in return. She appears to be slightly younger than him, maybe in her late twenties. The dark brown hair that's pulled back tightly serves a deep contrast to her pale irises. After a brief inspection, he determines that she is a local, at least to this continent, if to judge by her features and outfit. Though at least a foot shorter than him, her head reaching only below his shoulder, which according to what he knows, is less common for women around here.

Petite women are entertaining, in his opinion, particularly in bed. They usually try to fight harder for some reason, probably feeling threatened by his size and his vigour.

August's smirk grows apparent, his natural charm and charisma kicking in to work their usual beguiling magic. "Why is that?"

The girl washes her hands and grabs a piece of paper from the dispenser, drying up while breaking eye contact and not providing him with an answer. His gaze follows as she walks to the door. Grabbing the handle, she turns to look at him, sucking her lower lip like a hungry cat as her eyes give his body one last raunchy glare.

"You're in the ladies' room, big boy."

The lack of urinals suddenly becomes very obvious as the door shuts behind her, along with the large tampons' vending machine located right next to August's dumbfounded face.

"Fuck this day."

~*~

Sitting next to the large glass wall, her eyes scan the view outside while warming the tips of her fingers against the paper coffee cup. She can feel how the thin layer of skin begins to burn, the cells dying one by one.

It's a surprisingly sunny day, yet the end of the autumn sun is the greatest deceiver. It's barely 5 degrees outside, and the air will continue to grow colder as the days will pass. But she loves the cold, Liam always says how proud it makes him see her thrive during wintertime.

There are still no messages on her phone this morning. So she takes a moment to enjoy her coffee and ogle the nature outside the large window, uninterrupted. The gas stop is at a crossing 116km from the nearest town, travellers usually arrive here by hitchhiking. The road itself is surrounded by a large forest and a now-frozen lake.

As she looks outside, a small fox runs at the outskirts of the woods, peering into the empty road before becoming lost in the thicket.

That day has a deceptive sense of freedom.

The mysterious, handsome stranger walks out of the ladies' room. He's wearing a black T-shirt that looks a size smaller than what he should be wearing. His large muscles stick out of it, looking even bigger against the tight fabric. He orders himself a cup of coffee, placing a hand on the counter while observing the store's contents as if he is musing what other items he may need to buy. He grabs a map from the metal hanger on the counter and points at something on the shelves behind the teenager who works as a cashier.