Odd instructions aside, you adjusted and found your way around at a reasonable pace. And as the late evening settled and you were about a fourth of the way through the boxes, you returned to the kitchen. It was stocked with the essentials as far food went, though you instead searched through the take-away printouts on the counter until you found something promising: Hellfire Smoke Pit – the Minotaur head logo circled by a spaded tail and the fact it advertises itself as a family business was enough to chance who would be on the other end. Sure enough, Freyr with his gruff voice led you through the selection until you settled on a rack of skewers.
Barely twenty minutes later your newest friend came by and you waved him through a side-door that led to one of the living rooms. On opening the metal container up, you were hit by a sudden heatwave before the flavorful scent of grilled meat and vegetables found your nostrils. Looking inside, you saw several smoldering lava rocks at the bottom. “Straight from Hell. They never lose their temperature. Hey, Tracey, if you’d like you could take them. Think of it as a house warming gift.” He drew an amused snort from you with that while you carefully lifted the hot skewers onto a plate. “Keeps food heated and a sauna steamy.” Speaking off. You had one of those too.
Instead of leaving when everything including the Incu-cola bottle you ordered was set, the Minotaur started to shift his weight between his feet. He just stood there, waiting. “Right, paying. How much for the tip?” Obviously that wasn’t it when he shook his horned head. Instead a pair of bull horns, he had a singular demonic one poking out of his forehead. Built like Hercules if he was eight feet tall and a Minotaur with coal black fur that occasionally lit with flames. Big and strong, but also shying away from your probing gaze.
“Actually, is it fine if I stay? We’re closing in half an hour and my family can handle the rest. May have indicated I’d be hanging out here too. Having that coffee we talked about. All the food is on the house, whatever you decide, so no pressure.”
Oh. “Eating alone is boring away and I’ll need you to point out what everything is. Like, what is this,” eager for the friendly company, you waved a random skewer before him as you simultaneously used it to indicate that he could sit down on the other side of the sofa. Helpful as always, Freyr pointed out what each things was. “So either honey soaked chili chicken or lamb. Bell pepper, Portobello... No strange Hell vegetables? Had hoped for something more exotic.” With a scowl to show your very real and not fake disappointment you bit down.
Rather than simply the taste of chicken playing on your tongue, it felt as if you swallowed liquid fire. Tearing up, your vision turned murky as droplets streamed down your cheeks. You immediately dove for the Incu-cola to put the burning. The soft drink did that but it brought an entirely different heat running flush through your body. “Nnghh,” clawing at your throat, the low groan coming out of throat was sultry and smokey like the meat that had burned a path clean through to your stomach. You were too preoccupied to notice the lack of an adam's apple as your attention centered on the painful and throbbing erection rising a tent in your jeans. Freyr was on you within seconds, using his strength to pry open your mouth and force the rest of the Cola down your gullet.
His intervention actually eased things. Although when you thanked him, it was clear how feminine the throaty and seductive rasp of your voice sounded. Even your faint and groaning whispers pierced and filled the air with its seductive vibrations and made Freyr shiver and look around uncomfortably at anything except you. “The way we grill using those stones soaks the food in ambient Hell energies. Never an issue normally. You build up a resistance quickly. Until then, think of you being a glass filled with energies and this being the drop that spilled over and induced a transformation. My mother is better at explaining since she’s an Underworld native. You, uh, sound a lot like her and it creeps me out if I am being honest. Or, well, you have the same kind of voice. You’ll know what I mean when you meet her.”
The chauffeur had warned you about picking up a few demonic traits along with changing your gender. But to indicate you were fine, you flashed a smile at him. “Words minimum. Other change?” Grateful and enjoying the caveman... woman act... an incredibly sexy sounding cavewoman act... the Minotaur held up his smartphone, the camera set to selfie so you could inspect the softening features of your androgynous face and the pitch black orbs set with creeping and pulsing tendrils of lava pooling into a pair of glowing scarlet irises. They seemed to spill out across the cracked skin around your eyes. Running your fingers along your ears, you also felt as the tips were longer and more pointy. “Eat safe? No transform?”
“Could shave a day or so off the next one. By far not an expert, but in the end it’s putting off the inevitable. Everything here carries some of the energy.”
You couldn’t exactly argue and you were still hungry so bit down again and for a third time. Without the sudden and surprising transformation it was quite tasty. “Chicken tasty!” There was even a tang of the corruption that lingered on your tongue after each swallow. No Hell vegetables, but certainly hellishly hot spices. “Water, wash food down.” You had drained the Incu-Cola so sent Freyr for water. The obliging Minotaur returned two minutes later with a crystal carafe that looked expensive but certainly fit into the rest of the décor. And a pair of tall and pink tinted crystal glasses. Okay, you had to buy something cheaper or else you’d starve to death for fear of breaking anything.
“See you figured out how the TV works.” Indeed, a Super-G competition somewhere in Norway in 4k definition. Snow, high mountains, and blue skies as far as the eye could see. Complete opposite of the hellfire, portal to the Underworld, and the scarlet atmosphere of Hellbent. You handed Freyr a skewer. “The town has its own TV stations. Channels 66 and 67 on the company provided box. And a few radio stations, if you’re into that. We’re running a some ads for the Smoke Pit. The people you work for, they take well care of us and the town.” He raised his glass. “To the company!”
“Company!” You grunted and drank and occasionally chewing on a skewer. Finding yourself in a very relaxing and nice evening that the two of you chatted away until it was time for bed. No representative or liaison yet, but who would be awake at this hour.