The Arbiter

Since when did the screaming stop?

Seated on her maggot-eaten chair and hunched over the old blackjack table, the Arbiter raised an eyebrow beneath her bloody blindfold. All sense of time had been lost to her. She could only guess how recently the torture in the upper levels of hell had ended.

Had she been so numbed to the wailing and constant volcanic eruptions, she had forgotten what silence sounded like?

Her hands caressed the worn-out felt on the table in front of her. Without her sense of sight, she used touch to open the windows to her soul. Assuming she still had one.

From the vibrations under the wooden floor all the way up to her glass-like fingers, she felt it; the furnaces of hell had ceased functioning. What happens next? For the first time in a long while, the Arbiter was uncertain.

She had no hesitation judging the souls of the damned, a duty she carried out without fail or complaint. Billions, no trillions of souls had passed through the rickety door in front of her, all in hopes of passing the shining gates behind her. She had overseen this passageway for as long as she could remember.

So to be alone in this room felt… odd. Unfamiliar emotions filled the void inside of her one by one. Without souls to sentence, she was like a lost child. Not the intimidating, winged witch that most would point their fingers at. She finally found peace, but without having ever felt it, it was lost to her.

The Arbiter remained seated on her chair, doubt weighing her down like an anchor. She waited. Her shadow loomed over the blackjack table, but not as oppressive as before. Seconds, years, millennia—there was no difference to her. So why then, despite knowing eternity, was she still unable to rid herself of that unease?

Who was she, really? Beyond being the Arbiter, what was she actually? Even demons had names and history. She had none. These questions about herself festered like a tumor in her chest—a phantom sensation. Otherworldly beings like her were unable to feel actual pain. It’s all fake, she reminded herself.

But the moment the doors to her room flung open, the distress she had been inflicting on herself vanished. Finally, a soul. The joy to fulfill her function once more caused her raven wings to unfurl, covering almost the entire width of the room.

But that joy was short-lived.

“H-Hello?”

The voice of the soul was that of a young boy’s. Weak and confused, it was the furthest kind of sound she’d expect to hear.

The arbiter rejected the evidence of her ears. Focusing her senses, she detected the outline of a short, unassuming child whose soul was almost pure white. A soul stained with sin as little as this would never end up in hell, much less her level which sat at the very depths.

The upper levels must have made a mistake, she surmised right away. Poor boy.

Regardless, she had to fulfill her duty. All souls that entered her level had to be evaluated, without exception. Though the boy might not be marred by sin, it was his thoughts that determined his fate.

“Come, have a seat.” She beckoned him to her table.

His tiny footsteps barely made a squeak on the floorboards. Countless feet have shuffled their way to her table, but the boy’s disturbed her more than any other. Every fiber of her being screamed at her that he was innocent. But she ignored them.

“Let’s play a game.” Like clockwork, the same phrase she had uttered countless times was said once more.

The deck of 52 resting on the table flew into the air as if each card was attached to an invisible string. But the puppeteer was not the Arbiter. The cards, even the entire room itself, had minds of their own.

“We’ll be playing only a single round of blackjack.” She continued as the cards shuffled independently in midair. “Whoever draws a combined total of 21 or is closest to it, wins.”

An awkward silence followed. Usually, this would be the moment where the soul yells at her, cursing at how ridiculous this all seemed. Every soul who entered her room had already gone through the punishment in the levels above. So, for their final fate to be determined by what appeared to be a game of chance was undeniably cruel.

But the boy was quiet. She sensed him nodding along.

“Drawing more than 21 also results in a loss. Are you aware of what’s at stake here?”

“There’s steak here!?” He got up from his seat, ecstatic. “So if I win, we get to eat steak?!”

The Arbiter was stunned. All the souls who have gone through the upper levels of hell would have lost their appetite long ago. His enthusiasm for something as inconsequential as a single meal was perplexing.

It was as if he had never been tortured in the first place.

She coughed before resuming, “If you win, you’ll be free. Free to have anything you desire, including steak.” She improvised that last line. “But if you lose, you’ll go through hell all over again.”

In truth, the game itself mattered little. It was only a tool to bring out the soul’s true colors. So many murderers, rapists, and other scum of the earth had undergone the most unimaginable agony in the levels above, only to arrive here unchanged. The only thing to be won here was the Arbiter’s favor. If a soul could convince her that they had truly repented, only then could they enter the gates behind her.

“Okay!” The boy answered as if her words meant nothing.

The Arbiter asked, “Are you not afraid?”

Only for him to shake his head. “This is fun! Thanks for wanting to play with me, lady!”

At this point, she was eager to let him pass, but she hid her intent behind her stone-like expression. It was unlikely, but maybe the boy would attempt to cheat? She only hoped he would not stoop to anything low.

“Very well.” She clapped her hands once. The cards halted their dance in the air, falling into position stacked on top of each other at the middle of the table.

“We will take turns drawing one card at a time.” She shared as she flipped open the top card. “I will always draw first.” It was a queen.

Probability-wise, this actually favored the soul. Most, however, were usually not rational enough to see this.

“My turn!” The boy drew next without a care in the world, revealing a jack.

The Arbiter smiled. Even though it was a quick and simple game, the fun coursing through him infected her. All this while, she saw blackjack as nothing more than part of her job. For the first time, she actually felt like she was playing a game.

She commented, “I can tell you’re really enjoying this.”

Through touch alone, she knew her second card was a king. She flipped it open, curious to see how the child would react.

“Wow! That means you have 20, right?”

“Correct. I won’t be drawing anymore after this. You’re free to draw as many as you need to reach—”

Unable to control his excitement, he drew his second card before she even finished. The Arbiter’s expression switched from surprise to relief as she could tell he drew an ace.

“Congratulations, you win.” She was glad. Even the cards favored him. “You’re free to enter the gate.”

At once, the metal grill behind her opened. Before, it was the only fixture that didn’t belong in this shanty, dilapidated room. Now, it was like a portal to an entirely different world altogether, with warm rays spilling over into the space. Even through her blindfold, she could tell the darkness within the room was cast aside, the light eager to embrace the boy.

In actuality, the Arbiter was unsure what actually lay behind the shining gate. Be it heaven or reincarnation, such knowledge was beyond her. All she knew was that it led out of hell.

“Why should I enter the gate?” The boy asked out of pure curiosity, malice absent from his tone.

The Arbiter matched his words with a gentle voice. “You won. There is no need to be here anymore.” Thinking for a bit, she added, “Whatever you desire, even things better than steak, are waiting for you behind that gate.”

He wondered aloud. “So that gate will take me out of hell?”

“Yes.”

“It’s okay, then. I’ll stay here.”

“What?!”

The Arbiter was so shocked, she got up from her seat. Her wings absorbed the beams of white shining behind her, dimming the entire room once more.

Never once in her unlife had she encountered a soul that would willingly stay in hell. Who was this boy? What the hell was going on?!

“Steak is nice and all, but I can’t leave without my Mom.” He explained. “She’s in here somewhere.”

“You came to hell just to look for your mother? How?!”

“I-I d-don’t know… It’s just—I missed her a lot and—”

Realizing she was scaring the poor child, she sat down once more, softening her tone. “Listen. Hell is not a place for innocent children like yourself. You’ve already won the right to le—”

“No!” The boy protested. “Let’s play again! I’ll lose this time. Then I’ll get to stay, right?”

“Surely, your mother would want only the best for you? Being in a horrible place like this any longer would make her upset.”

“Exactly! This is a horrible place! What if Mom is all alone and scared?” Tears welled up in his eyes. “Dad left us. I… I have to be there for her. I’m a big boy now.”

The Arbiter was at an impasse. This boy was an anomaly. She knew for a fact that he did not belong here. And yet, he was willing to lose and challenge her judgment just to stay in hell.

Even if she were to reverse her decision, where would the justice be in that?

She sighed. Getting up from her chair one final time, the Arbiter walked over to the crying boy, kneeling next to him as she wiped his tears with her sleeve.

“You promise to leave once you find your mother? Even if her fate is to be trapped here for eternity.”

“Y-Yes. I just n-need to make sure she’s o-okay.”

The Arbiter already knew whatever soul that was still in the upper leaves would be the furthest thing from “okay.” But unless the poor boy was gone, she would not be able to resume her duty.

“Very well. I’ll help you.”

“You will?!”

“Make no mistake. I can only protect you from the dangers that wait in the upper levels, but you will have to guide both of us.”

“Guide? What do you mean?”

The Arbiter reached under the blackjack table, removing a parchment that was stuck underneath.

“This is the Atlas of Hell.” She spread it open for him. “My vision was stolen to stop me from finding the way out. But you should be able to read it. Do you know where to go?”

“I think so…”

“Good. Beyond these doors, you will have to lead the way.”

“Okay! Thank you so much, miss! Miss…? Um… sorry, I never got your name…”

“I do not have a name.” The Arbiter admitted. “I… I suspect I lost it long ago.”

“Oh. Then, until you find it again, is it okay if I call you ‘Angel,’ is that okay?”

“Angel?” She wondered aloud. She knew that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Yeah! You can call me Stanley!”

Angel smiled. For now, she’d play the role of his guardian for the journey ahead.