The Search for Vanessa Hawthorne: Capitol of Vices

The Inferno was beyond anything that John’s imagination had tried to conjure up when he’d heard Erica and Reginald’s descriptions. He’d imagined fire and brimstone, demons and mobsters, not a sci-fi technicolor wonder. The portal had deposited them onto a gigantic ring of multicolored glass that stretched around the edge of a central spire that itself was at least the size of a city block. All along the outer rim of the place, portals opened and closed for an impressively diverse clientele. Every skin tone of humans was represented, a group of stocky dwarves were barely visible pushing their way past two tall elven women, and a man with the head of an elephant chatted casually with a girl that had snakes for hair. As John watched, stunned, a portal three or four times the normal size opened, and an honest to god dragon stomped into the plaza.

“Welcome, sinners!” a booming voice filled the space, and the central spire flickered with color. One by one, spotlights slammed on, forming a wall of blindingly bright light between it and the onlookers.

Beside John, Erica sighed, “Oh boy… here we go.”

The spotlights simultaneously went dark and with them whatever source of illumination was lighting up the hall, leaving nothing but the spire visible… or rather the half-naked man depicted upon the spire. “Ladies, gentlemen, whatever gender that pile of tentacles is! Welcome to the party that never, ever stops. I’m your host and master of ceremonies, the one, the only, Dante!”

John stared at the depicted figure as he swung around a half-empty wineglass, managing to splash some on his bare chest. Dante was a handsome man by any standard, with a practically chiseled physique and the face of a professional model. His blond hair was neatly cropped into a short but flattering cut that matched his stubble. If it weren’t for the scar that stretched from his forehead all the way across his face to his jaw, he would’ve been ‘perfect’.

“Whatever you’re looking for, we’ve got it. Prostitutes, gambling, liquor, ****! The pleasures of a thousand worlds are at your lips, or any other part of your body…” Dante winked and poured the rest of his drink into his open mouth, getting some of it on his cheek. Then, he threw the glass to the side with a crash and wiped his mouth with the back of a hand. “So, I say: indulge! What’s life without all of hell’s worth of sins? Envy! Wrath! Lust! Gluttony! Greed! Sloth! And of course, the best sin of all: Pride!”

Spotlights triggered and swept down, momentarily blinding John. They landed on an archway leading out of the main area, where the glass floor unified into a single color: purple. Above the archway was a neon sign flanked by two statues of impossibly beautiful humans. Of course, the sign read ‘Pride’.

“Now you might be asking yourselves,” Dante continued while being handed a glass of brandy, “what would such a handsome, manly, virile god of a host ask in return for opening the doors to such hedonism? Only to follow the rules! A paltry price for the delights of my Inferno. Now don’t let me keep you. Enjoy, indulge, feast, fight and fuck to your heart’s delight, my sinners!” The last thing the screen showed was Dante tossing back the drink and pulling a naked, blue-skinned elven girl into view and on top of himself.

Well, that was… something. I guess to run a place like this you’ve got to be pretty ‘sinful’ yourself.

The overhead lights returned, and those in the crowd that had stopped to witness Dante’s showboating returned to conversations or headed for whichever sin they’d come to indulge in. Now that he could see clearly again, John realized that the entrance to 'Pride' was only one of three such archways he could see from where they were standing. 'Sloth' was just to his right, where the floor flowed into a dark, soothing blue. A few occupied hammocks were hanging around and from the archway itself. Past that was 'Greed', barely visible amidst the vibrant yellow and tall piles of golden coins that reached almost to the top of the arch.

If nothing else, the architect of The Inferno certainly knew how to capitalize on theme.

A nudge from his partner snapped John out of his dazed state. They hadn’t come to marvel at the architecture or the patrons, they were here with a purpose, after all. “So, where do you want to start?” she asked.

John glanced at the central spire, where Dante’s projection had been earlier. If there was one person in this place that could tell them where Vanessa went, it’d be him. Then again, the portal guy from before had implied that the Order and the flamboyant owner of The Inferno didn’t exactly see eye to eye.

“I’m not sure,” he replied. “Probably not sloth or wrath, but it couldn’t hurt to take a look at each, just to make sure?”

Erica nodded, “Makes sense to me. Once we’ve got a general idea which ones she might be at, we could split up and look for her unless you’ve got some kind of tracking spell?” When John shook his head, she grimaced, “I can maybe pull some strings and get us a meeting with Dante if I have to; I’d really rather not though. For my sake and yours. The less interested he is in us, the better.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a history.”

“I owed him a debt a few years back, paid off in full, but… I’d rather not have to bargain with him again. He’s as dangerous as a fae when it comes to deals and twice as greedy.” Erica’s expression darkened further, and her words were heavy with bitterness.

John winced, “Let’s avoid that if we can then. I’m not exactly rich…” When Erica gave him an inquiring look, he was **** to admit, “The money I used to get us in was most of what I had.”

“Dude, you should’ve let me pay for it. I get paid more than that each week. Winter’s breath… if you don’t have at least a few million, we definitely can’t bargain with Dante.” The berserker sighed and shook away the gloom, “Just let me cover our other expenses and try not to buy anything we don’t need. I’ve got a couple hundred we can use, but it won’t go that far here.”

“A few million?” John sputtered.

Erica grinned, “I get paid in gold, dude. Pure gold.” The piles of coins in the Brighton vault came to mind, followed by the exorbitant prices he’d seen on the Abyss Auction. Once again, reality crushed his delusions of grandeur and wealth, though it was also a useful reminder that he still hadn’t sold some of the hydra parts in the chest at home. That would give him enough to work with while he sought a more stable income. John almost regretted taking the Thorn instead of the coins that Moira had offered him.

Of course, it wouldn’t matter what wealth he did or didn’t have if Mrs. Wentworth took his head off for failing to locate Vanessa. He could worry about money once the bitchy cheerleader had been safely returned home… or in a body bag.

It took some effort to **** a hesitant smile onto his lips, and John could tell that Erica noticed, but he still gestured at the archway to 'Sloth', “Alright, no shopping sprees then. Shall we?”

Going in, John had no idea what to expect from 'Sloth', but discovering it to be an extensive spa complex wasn’t immensely surprising. Frosted glass walls quartered off private massage salons, and steam wafted into the air from the public baths, giving the entire place a comforting, light humidity. Attendants dressed in towel-robes carried snacks and **** to patrons seated in one of the many vibrating massage chairs or lounging at the side of one of the hot springs. One customer was so obese that his attendants had to carry his chair with him still in it into a private area.

“Party of two?” the handsome male attendant behind the front desk asked them; “Would you like the five-hour, half-day or full day course?” He’d already started pulling out two of the fluffy robes that the other guests wore.

John shook his head, “We’re just looking, thanks.”

He looked back out at the lavish paradise of relaxation and tried to focus on why they were here. Vanessa… right. Well this was the kind of place she’d love, in theory. Having someone to wait on you hand and foot was enticing… but that wouldn’t be enough for her. Not as long as she wasn’t the center of everyone’s attention.

As he turned around to tell Erica that they should look elsewhere, the attendant spoke up again, “Would you like to try out our special, then? One hour free of charge for any new or returning customers, with free refreshments and full access to our private rooms, of course.” He gestured at the robes and smiled, “Interested?”

John hesitated. He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t since they were on a time limit… but what if he was wrong? What if Vanessa had decided to take a breather here? It couldn’t hurt to spend just an hour scouring the place and maybe getting some well-earned rest in, could it?

“We’ll pass, thanks. We’ve got an appointment elsewhere,” interjected his partner. He glanced over at Erica, who shook her head at him and gestured at the door behind her. “We really should be going,” she said with heavy emphasis, “before we’re too late.”

Oh. This is how they get you, isn’t it?

Realization dawned as John glanced from the attendant to his partner and then into 'Sloth'. How many of the customers out there had accepted the free offer, and how many of them had been politely asked if they wanted to keep going once it was over? He looked back at Erica and nodded.

“Yeah, thanks. We’ve got to go though. Maybe next time.”

Once they were safely clear of the spa, John took a deep breath, and a sense of drowsiness he hadn’t been consciously aware of retreated with the moisturized air. Unfortunately, with alertness came a reminder of the pressure he was under and how few hints they had to work with. Sure, they could probably cross 'Sloth' off the list, but probably wouldn’t cut it. They didn’t have hours to waste on looking in the wrong place, especially with the temptations that these sins clearly offered.

No, they needed to stay focused on the task at hand and not get sucked into indulging in the sins this place offered. He balled up one hand and punched himself in the cheek.

“Whoa, dude. You ok?” Erica asked.

John winced at the slight pain, “Just clearing my head. Thanks for pulling me out of there.”

“No problem.” The berserker’s usual cheery attitude was replaced by a solemnity that spoke volumes, “They don’t call them the seven deadly sins for no reason; let’s stick to window-shopping until we know which ones she might be at.”

“Good plan.”

'Greed' further rubbed in John’s face just how little his wealth had meant. It was a casino that was literally overflowing with coins. The piles at the door were only the start, as their footsteps clinked against a carpet of currency that obscured most of the velvet beneath. Roulette and blackjack tables stuck out like velvet islands in the sea of shimmering gold and silver. A dwarf reclined at one in an actual throne of coins, occasionally tossing one onto the table as a bet. Elsewhere, the dragon that John had seen earlier lay curled up partly buried amidst a flood of tokens that poured forth from the slot machine he delicately triggered with a single talon.

It was difficult to hold back from just picking up some of the gold that was lying around, but John recognized it as the temptation of this sin. There was no way that it’d be free, and he definitely couldn’t afford to play at any of the tables here. Vanessa on the other hand…

Did she squander her family’s fortune on this? What do they do with people that can’t pay their debts here? It can’t be as simple as a slap on the wrist and tossing them back on the street.

It wasn’t hard to believe that the cheerleader had thrown away enough money that she’d want to hide from her family… or spent money she didn’t have. If his own experience was anything to go by, the Hawthorne family’s wealth was still chump change to many of the patrons here.

After 'Greed' came 'Gluttony', which was easy to justify crossing off the list. While the biggest food court that John had ever seen in his life was difficult to resist, it was unlikely that anyone would spend an entire day in it. Besides, Vanessa was the type to be too concerned with her body to gorge herself on delectably fatty foods. Still, it was painfully hard to walk away, since neither he nor Erica had eaten lunch and the rows of snack stalls smelled irresistible.

In the end, with a shared sense of shame and rumbling stomachs, the two ended up going back for a couple of crepes.

Surprisingly, 'Lust' turned out a lot less likely than John had originally thought. Unsurprisingly, it was a brothel. Silken drapes of lurid crimson and pink wove the illusion of rooms about a central lounge of chairs and loveseats, doing little to hide the writhing forms of the bodies entwined behind them. For the more discerning customer, a stairwell of dark, polished wood led up to a second floor, and at the very center of the room was a curved desk, behind which stood a young Asian woman dressed in a mockery of a US naval outfit, seemingly engaged in the open ledger before her. Whenever neither Erica nor John were looking, she glanced up to examine the new customers.

A few prostitutes awaiting a client or on break lounged about, relaxing in one of the chairs or engaged in conversation with one another. Two men in thongs that were so tight against their over-endowed bulges that they concealed absolutely nothing laughed over some joke. In one of the loveseats, a young man with brilliant red hair openly fondled his companion, an older woman with a pair of eye-catching scars across her face, both dressed in dyed leathers. In another, a lithe girl in dancer’s spandex slept lightly, her petite chest rising and falling with every breath.

This wasn’t the kind of place that Vanessa would frequent, the idea of paying for sex probably caused her physical pain. John glanced at Erica, who at least seemed more curious than uncomfortable and gestured at the door behind them. No need to stick around like a sore thumb.

“Hold on a moment, big boy!” a voice from his right called out as a green blur rushed into his way. “Don’t you want to taste the goods first?”

The speaker was a short, green-skinned girl, a goblin, his brain supplied, with an impossibly large chest almost as big as her head that was barely contained in her skimpy, translucent top. Her breasts were at crotch height, a feature the prostitute took advantage of as she pressed her body against him and took an exaggerated breath. “Fuck… Now that’s how a stud should smell. How’s about you take me for a test drive? First load’s free.”

John stared down at the shortstack that was pawing hungrily at his pants in stunned shock, trying and completely failing to not get an erection. His interactions with women hadn’t prepared him for being blatantly propositioned by an eager goblin whore, and the sheer absurdity of the moment brought any working part of his brain to a grinding halt. Desperately, he looked over at Erica who was busy trying not to laugh. She, at least, seemed to think this was hilarious.

“Gonna punch that v-card of yours, dude?” she taunted him with a wink.

Halfway through undoing his pants, the goblin stopped and looked up at John with wide eyes. She was drooling a bit. “A virgin,” she whispered reverently. “You can fuck my ass or use my throat, take me fertile and raw, anything you want; just let me have the first taste.”

John glared at his partner, trying to **** her to stop snickering with his expression alone. He had to grab the small hands now trying to tug down his boxers and strip him naked in front of everyone. At least only Erica was watching… and a few of the other bored prostitutes, and the girl at the desk, and basically everyone in the room. He felt a hand try to wrap around his erection, impeded slightly by the boxers still covering it. Fucking hell, could this situation get more awkward?

The worst part of it all was that John wasn’t exactly averse to losing his virginity to a slutty little goblin, especially when she seemed to be getting off on just the idea of him fucking her. He probably would’ve accepted the offer under different circumstances, but this was moving way too fast for him to handle right now, and he wasn’t here to get his dick wet. At least not intentionally. John gritted his teeth as the insatiable girl started kissing and sucking on his bulging underwear. The sensations were thankfully dampened enough for him to keep a clear head, but it wasn’t the physical contact that was most arousing about the situation.

Through his teeth, John managed a plea for help, “Erica… please do something…”

Switching to massaging him with her fingers, the prostitute turned to his companion, “Oh, are you two… together?” Her eagerness faded slightly but then bounced right back a moment later. “I can eat you out while he pumps me full of all this thick cum. I won’t even ovulate if you’re bothered by that, I know you humans can be weird about things like breeding. Even though I’d look so cute with your seed in me… just let me have the first shot, please?”

Erica’s amusement had faded, replaced by a stunned look that mirrored John’s, fading slowly into a crimson hue. Both of them stared at one another as the situation continued to spiral far beyond the joke the berserker had found hilarious.

“We could give him a titjob together? I’ll suck him off for you as lube, just…” The goblin picked up on their expressions and misinterpreted them as a horrified couple. Her ears flopped a bit, and the excited shine in her eyes vanished, though she didn’t stop fondling John’s balls. “Damnit, the hot ones are always taken. Come back when you’re single and need someone to dump your cum into, ok?” Before John could stop her, she grabbed the top of his underwear and pulled it down just enough to plant a kiss directly onto his cockhead, slipping a card into his pocket with her other hand. Then, with a disappointed look back at them, she wandered off to sulk, leaving John with unzipped pants and a boner that strained against the confines of his boxers. “Stupid monogamy…”

It took a few seconds for John to come back to his senses, and he only remembered to zip his pants back up when Erica coughed and gestured at his crotch. Anyone watching had since returned to their conversations or had been swept up by a new client during the exchange, and the only people still looking at him were his partner and the goblin girl, miserably masturbating against one of the larger loveseats. He felt kind of bad when he met her pleading eyes and **** himself to look away. Unfortunately, that resulted in locking eyes with Erica.

“Uh… so that… um… happened,” he fumbled through the words awkwardly. “I guess we should probably…” John gestured towards the door.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

Fortunately, after the debacle he’d suffered through at 'Lust', 'Wrath' was an easy check off John’s mental list. Vanessa seemed to enjoy watching Frank beat him up, but he doubted that she got off on pure **** the same way the hungry audience here did.

Spectators were gathered around caged fighting pits, where they could place bets to see which of the brawlers would come out on top or just plain survive. At one, an announcer hyped up the crowd as a minotaur splintered through his opponent’s shield in one headbutt and hoisted the screaming man up in the air on his horns. John chose to look away as blood spattered all over the walls and winced at the sound of a thud. Cheers rose up from the winners in the crowd, and the minotaur bellowed in triumph.

To John, it was disgusting. Not the gore, he’d seen plenty of that, and his experiences thus far had steadily deadened his nausea towards blood and guts… no, the bloodlust of the spectators was what made him queasy. These people were here to watch another person die.

What kind of fucked up do you have to be to enjoy this? Or worse… to take part in it?

**** in self-defense or with a purpose he could understand. His hands were far from clean. He’d killed the hydra, the drop bears, the nightgaunts. He’d killed things that clearly were capable of thought and speech, because if he didn’t then he and Erica might not be standing here now. But he hadn’t killed for pleasure, or money, or fame. That was a line he hadn’t crossed yet…

He looked over at his companion, more than ready to leave, but she wasn’t there. Erica wasn’t in the vicinity either; it took a moment of frantic searching to find her leaned up against the archway into 'Wrath'. From the look on her face, she was as enthusiastic about this place as he was.

As John walked up, the berserker looked away from the biggest arena and at him. “Sorry, dude. This one’s a bit hard for me. I’d rather not talk about it.” She looked back at the crowd with a twisted mixture of pain and something else. It almost looked like jealousy, but that couldn’t be right, could it?

“No problem. Let’s try somewhere else,” he replied. When she didn’t reply, he had to wave a hand in front of his partner’s face. “Erica”?

“Oh, yeah. Sure thing.”

'Envy' was closed. The archway had been sealed off with a semi-transparent wall of magic that glittered with floating letters, ‘Next Auction at 2:30 PM. Statuary and Fine Art.’ From what he could barely see through it, John made out rows of chairs and a stage or landing where a few white blobs and squares that might’ve been paintings had been set up. Although it was clearly a high-class venue for expensive commodities, why anyone would bother to visit 'Envy' when the Abyss Auction existed was beyond him. There must be something special about the selection here, or maybe people just really liked the experience of bidding for things in person. Regardless, if Vanessa had been here, she wasn’t anymore.

John ticked 'Envy' off mentally as another bust and took stock of their findings so far. 'Gluttony' and 'Wrath' were both also crossed out, with 'Sloth' and 'Lust' being hard maybes at best. Only 'Greed' had seemed viable so far, but...

“I see her, at the seventh of seven sins, accompanied by a shadow that walks in the guise of man.”

Lorelei’s prophecy rose unbidden to his mind as John looked up at the archway leading to the final sin. The gigantic sign flared its name in brilliant neon purple, an audacious, impossible to ignore display of suitable self-obsession.