Chapter Text
Henry decided to see William one last time. He decided to watch him in his hell, in the place he deserved, burning or being torn open or something of the like. He'd learned after spending some time in the afterlife that the mind made it's very own hell, not just people burning together with pitchforks. Something more personal... isolated.
Opening the door, he was shocked to see a house, smelling nice with clean floors and a vase with roses on the table, and outside, a garden with a tall, white fence.
He knit his brows in confusion and frustration, before hearing some shouting coming from the kitchen.
Cautiously, he stepped in. A man was screaming at a young girl, a plate thrown on the floor as she began to pick it up cautiously, flinching whenever he motioned to her, only ending in her getting several kicks to the stomach. Henry stepped forward, watching the other man closely.
He was a part of the hell, he could see by the empty eyes and fuzzy features. He stormed off, and he looked at the girl who began to pick the pieces off the ground, her long hair obscuring her (probably) unclear face.
Her hands were shaking, and she kept dropping the pieces. Henry slowly knelt, placing the pieces in her hands, but she would flinch whenever his hands got near.
He stood, and walked into the bedroom, confused out of his mind.
The man was reading in the upstairs study, he soon discovered. Still angry, and muttering about the woman downstairs, no doubt.
He walked downstairs, and quickly found the basement, realizing a tortured William would likely be down there.
The basement was cozy, furnished and filled with toys and held a bed and a crib. But he found Micheal and he looked healthy and happy, playing with Oliver, who was a toddler, and trying to chew on toys.
Micheal was a little rough, but otherwise happy.
He smiled, and pat the fake Micheal on the head, who couldn't recognize the outside force, but it made Henry beam nonetheless.