Here are four specialized airports, each serving as the chaotic gateway to one of Hell's distinct biomes. They are designed to maximize frustration, drain your wallet, and test your sanity before you even enter the region.
1. Inferna Lux: "Jackpot International (JPT)"
Serves the Neon Cityscape.
* The Vibe: The terminal is designed like a casino floor—no clocks, no windows, and the carpet pattern induces vertigo. The air is pumped with 99% oxygen and 1% despair.
* The Boarding Process: There are no assigned seats. Your boarding group is determined by a slot machine at the gate. If you roll "Cherries," you get a seat. If you roll "Skulls," you ride in the wheel well.
* Baggage Claim: The conveyor belt moves at 60 mph. To retrieve your bag, you must play a claw machine game using a joystick that drifts to the left. Each attempt costs 50 Infernal Credits.
* The Delay Excuse: "Flight 666 is delayed because the pilot bet the landing gear on a hand of poker and lost. We are currently negotiating with a loan shark for a replacement."
2. Pandemonium D.C.: "Filibuster Dulles (FIL)"
Serves the Seat of Government.
* The Vibe: A massive, brutalist concrete bunker lit by flickering fluorescent tubes that hum aggressively. The only sound is the shuffling of paper and a prerecorded voice reminding you that "Your time is unimportant to us."
* The Security Check: The "TSA" (Total Suffering Administration) requires you to fill out Form 88-B in triplicate to remove your shoes. If you make a typo, you are sent to the back of a line that wraps around the terminal three times.
* The Gate: The gate number changes every time you look at the screen. It is currently located in a sub-basement that can only be accessed by a staircase that leads upward.
* The Delay Excuse: "This flight is currently being debated on the Senate floor. The Senator from the Circle of Gluttony has been reading a recipe for mud pie for the last six hours to block takeoff".
3. San Diablos: "Narcissus Skyport (LAX-ative)"
Serves the West Coast of Vanity.
* The Vibe: The terminal smells like jasmine and burning plastic. The walls are mirrors. There are no chairs, only "standing desks" to encourage core strength.
* The Check-In: Facial recognition software scans your "Sinstagram" Clout Score. If you have fewer than 10k followers, you are legally classified as "Luggage" and must travel in a crate.
* The Amenities: The water fountains dispense "Artisanal Tears" for $15 a sip. The Duty-Free shop sells "Soul-Gluten Free" snacks that taste like cardboard but cost a human soul.
* The Delay Excuse: "The flight crew is currently in a 'Manifestation Circle' trying to vibe-check the engine. We cannot take off until the turbine's chakras are aligned".
4. Florida: "The Swamp-Hop Airstrip (Uh-Oh)"
Serves the Chaos Realm.
* The Vibe: It is not a building; it is a series of portable trailers sinking into the mud. The runway is partially submerged in "Red Tide" water.
* The Security: There are no metal detectors. Instead, a Hellhound sniffs you. If it likes you, it bites you. If it hates you, it bites you harder.
* The Hazards: "Gator-Zillas" (alligators the size of school buses) frequently sunbathe on the tarmac, requiring the pilot to play "chicken" with them during landing. Imps infested in the control tower constantly scream over the PA system.
* The Delay Excuse: "We can't find the plane. We think a sinkhole swallowed it, or maybe a 'Florida Man' stole the catalytic converter to brew meth-potions. Stand by".