She leaned on the lock for what felt like the thousandth time – it was definitely moving. She was sure of it. The relief was absolutely all-consuming, as was the confirmation at least skin-to-skin contact would burn these monsters.

"Don't get carried away," she told herself aloud. "You have to stay calm." The silence was starting to get to her, in truth. Was she ever in silence? Even in her house, there was music – always music, or people to talk to, friends and peers to just meet and pass the time with if she wasn't on a mission or studying the works of heaven, one day to perhaps be a scholar of the upper realms just like in life. She had hopes and dreams. Had she ever been lonely? It was hard to remember a time when there wasn't someone she could call on. I am so lucky. She was starting to lose track of how long she'd been here – long enough that when she unfurled her wings, they drooped slightly, aching to be used – but if there was ever a time to count her blessings, this was probably it. Now I think I can get out. I have to. It has to work. She didn't want to think what would happen otherwise. The four walls of the cell seemed smaller each moment, the unhappy paint colours and the faint smell of antiseptic – surely piped in – wearing her down.

A sound at the window made her look up. She was half expecting what she saw when she raised her head, mind – the silver woman. Normally she would turn away, but, still giddy on a success she knew hadn't even happened yet, this time, she paused, and at last, made herself look at the creature.

She was – well, it was impossible to say what she may or may not have looked like as a human, apart from small and female. Her entire body was a metallic redesign, knives and shining blankness, and her face was more like a helmet and mask carved into serenely expressionless features. Only her blue eyes were visible through the plating and, greatly daring, she glanced into them.

For a moment there was nothing there – nothing behind the gristle and tissue – but as she held her gaze, for just a second, something flashed through the eyes – expression, life. And then it was gone. Sick with a horror she didn't even understand, very slowly, she stood up, walked to the glass window. This can't be happening. This feels like a dream – what is she, what is this? She isn't even alive, barely, but just for that moment...she looked so afraid. So alone. Barely breathing, she lifted one hand and placed it on the window, palm against the cool glass.

The silver girl's blue, blue eyes dropped down to focus on her hand. Her mouth, melded to the living metallic mask, opened, closed.

And then she moved – like lightning, she barely had time to process the movement – to the door and pushed it open.

She backed away. Oh heavens. The giddiness faded instantly, the terrible reality that she was in hell and what was she doing, trying to befriend or feel sympathy for a demon? And now it was coming for her. What had gotten into her lately? You aren't meant for this, you couldn't just stay out of things, could you!? Why don't you think!? You're supposed to be smart! You're supposed to know better! Have you leaned absolutely nothing in your life or afterlife or whatever?! This is not your role, your place!

Silver quietly shut the door behind herself and stood, motionless, staring at her.

Do not say anything stupid this time, she told herself. Better, don't even say anything. Her eyes slid to the floor as once again she found herself edging behind the bed as if – like the other demon had said – it would make one whit of difference.

They might not be the forever damned yet but they're halfway there! Sanity screamed inside her head. How many people ever make it out of hell to have another shot? Not that many, that's how many. Like heaven lifts you up when you reach it, so hell drags you down. This is how it has always been. Just because you can rise doesn't mean you ever will. They aren't here because of their happy dispositions in life, are they? They hurt people. And they're too stuck in their own sin to free themselves. Maybe they aren't dictators or...mass murderers...but - ? They are dangerous. What was happening to her? She couldn't conceive what those blue eyes had seen or done to warrant being here, or who had tipped the scales to pull her down here. She knew sometimes there were fights over the fates of souls. A reaper of souls. That's what he said he was. But I've seen the warriors march out to fight demons who try to tip a soul over the balance to hell, I've seen them march out to try to pull them back. The ones they lose – is this they? And he fights our warriors to claim them? Queasiness clawed its way up her throat. They say there is no liminal space in the dichotomy of good and evil – no. They say the liminal space, the space between, is humanity. Mortal lives to decide a fate, until there is no return. Choices of the individual and powers out of their control...I know this. I've learned it. But this one – she doesn't seem to even know what she is.

"I..."

Startled, her gaze rose to Silver's face, whose eyes were alive as they fixed on hers.

"There was – a place," Silver's voice was high and thin and tremulous, her eyes flickering back and forth around the room and back to her face. "I - ?" And she raised her metal hand, blades melded to her wrists, palm upward, just as she had against the glass. "I want to – ?"

Déjà vu. This place. Her heart slamming grotesquely against her ribs, she edged out from around the bed. "Hey. Hey. What is your name?" How old was she, this silver being? The eyes looked young, uncomprehending, nothing like a demon's. But then again, neither did his, not really. They both had such human eyes. Even his, behind the vicious mocking – she had seen pain and fear there. But Silver's were drowning with it, desperate confusion warring with terror. This isn't how it's meant to go.

The eyes landed on hers. "Name? I. I am not. I - ?"

"What happened to you?" she whispered.

"Please?" Silver whispered, then froze, flinched, drew back. Her head started to shake wildly. "I. I? No. No." And she drew back her hand, the knife edge whistling as she pulled it to her side, and her blue eyes were blank and dead again, her mouth closed. For one moment she levelled the dead stare on her face, and then simply turned and left, the door slotting gently into its malforming lock behind her.

"Wait!" she called, uselessly, her legs finally responding to the command to move, but she could hear the metallic footsteps down the corridor, and then Silver was gone, leaving nothing but the flickering florescent strip lighting in the hall outside.