//The remnants of your flesh and bone dissolve into ash as you now feel weightless and hollow. Despite the absence of your humanoid form, you still retain your ability to see, however, in the ever expanding darkness that surrounds you, it's as if your eyes never opened at all. Through this pitch black abyss, the silhouette of a man could be discerned in the distance, his skull and cloak made clear through the illumination of the intense emerald flame burning in his sockets. He slowly paces through the twilight void, creating ripples with each step, spinning his scythe to and fro as he grows closer. He looms over you, the fire dwindling to the size of two pupils. //
Grim: Oh hey, look who finally decided to show up. Now lets make one thing clear, you're DEAD. Not the laughing at a meme all your idiot friends swear to you is so funny kind of dead, not the "Oh crap! Moms gonna kill me because I didn't take the chicken out the freezer!" kind of dead, oh no, you're dead for real this time. You got a "game over '' in the RPG called life. I know kid, take it all in, take this time to reflect, contemplate, write a journal about how hard you fucked up. Sorry for your loss, and I do mean YOUR loss. Of life. Alright, now if you're done getting all weepy, I gotta send you to an [[afterlife]] now. Oh, one more thing before we really get started, I thought I'd use my last little bit of empathy for the human race by giving you a [[Content Warning]] in case anything goes sideways. Knowing your kind, it most definitely will so you're welcome.
Grim: Let me guess, you're one of those cynical assholes who thinks everything can be explained by science and there is no God right? Well guess what, wise guy? You can go ahead and piss your ghost pants now.// The cloaked specter dips the steel chine of his scythe deep into a piece of the void. His gaunt skeletal hand holds a firm grip on the blackened wood handle as his wrist makes a subtle arc motion while a massive ring of hellfire emerges. The inferno roars to life as the blood curdling screams of over a million damned souls echoed from a distance. The cold curved steel retained the dying embers as it's pulled from the burning ring. The chine then begins to glow with an intense white hot fluorescence as it's suddenly hoisted skyward above the reaper's hooded skull, his pitch black robes made light gray by the beam of light that shone down. A gentle ensemble of voices faintly rang all throughout the abyss, echoing a hymn so sweet, that every note seemed to effortlessly flow like a tranquill stream. The scythe descends slowly back into the reaper's clutches, he again grips the black wood, this time wrapping both of his elongated boney fingers around the handle as the emerald fire returns, engulfing the weapon and igniting in his sockets. Glowing green chains slither out from the wrists of his cloak like tendrils and begin to form a ring of dim flames, and from it a low howling of the wind blew through the void.
// [[Heaven]], [[Purgatory]], [[Hell]]. Make your choice Einstein, I bet all the books you read by all those fancy dancy know-it-all scientists didn't prepare you for that did they?
GOD HAS DENIED YOUR FRIEND REQUEST. YOU HAVE BEEN BLOCKED FROM THIS ACCOUNT. GO TO [[HEAVEN'S REJECT'S]] Grim: Huh, so you think purgatory is the place you're supposed to be? It's not too much to look at really, it's like what you mortals call rush hour but instead of a shit ton of cars it's a shit ton of souls. Just floating around endlessly... going nowhere in particular... Hey, are you sure you wanna be here? I mean this is not all a bad choice, in fact I know [[a spot]] down here where things get pretty lively even for dead people like you, but then again, it is boring as all hell down here. It's not the greatest place to be, but it's not the worst place either. Thats kinda the mood around here, it's just a "meh" place to be. It's an enternity of "just ok" kind of days. So again I'm leaving this one up to you, allthough I really should stop doing that, Im the one with the badass scythe and can set can set his skull on fire at will, you're just a see-through sack of insecurity and self loathing. //Whispers from the damned creep into your thoughts as you feel the weight of your past sins pull you closer to the blazing spiral in the midst of the void. With every inch closer, the whispers crescendo into wrathful screams: "WEAK" "USELESS" "COWARD" "SELFISH" "LOVELESS" "BURDEN" The full blast of hellfire scorches the very essence of your soul, your screams of agony can be felt but not heard. Accompanying your newfound misery is the cold sting of death himself, your burning hands grip desperately at his cloak to fight against the pull of the vortex. Black tendrils spawn from his robes and flail wildly as if the very garment he wore was alive. His curses are rendered inaudible through his gritted teeth. The vortex swallows both of you whole and for a brief moment the vile screams cease as a booming voice could be heard over all others: "GUILTY." You feel the intense blast brush by you in full force as you are cast into a fiery freefall towards the depths of the underworld. Your momentus plummet comes to a violent end as you smash down on the cindered earth of Hell's surface. The blood curdling screams of the damned fill your ears once again simultaneously echoing both near and far. On the area's far wall, hung over a billion scorched corpses nailed to several slabs of ashen stone, their mouths gape open, an endless stream of blood fountains from it, raining down to the layers below.//
Grim: FUCKING SHIT! Jesus Christ kid, when I politely told you to go to Hell I didn't mean take me with you! I mean seriously! The hell did I do?! Look, now I have fire and brimstone all over my nice black cloak! If there's one thing you humans know how to do well it's screw everything up! Nature, drugs, cartoons, education, politics, love, sex, that last one is literaly your secondary, if not your only purpose in life! HOW DO YOU MANAGE TO-?! GAAAAH! I'm starting to think you actually deserve to burn down here with all the liars, cheaters, thieves, killers, and the guy who invented math! Especially him! The balls on that guy!! I only have one job, read souls, and send them to an [[afterlife]], and I'm a chill guy, I even gave you a choice, I'm not supposed to do that, but I guess this is what I get for giving a shit about the human race! Look, there are [[Three doors]] up ahead, looks like we gotta do a last minute second rate choose your own adventure, I hope you're proud of yourself!
Grim: So the Big-G said no, huh? I could've told you that, I mean, you are the mortal scum that litters the earth after all, but all you mortals think that you're entitled to a happy ending don't you? I'm sure all your loved ones told you that you were so special, that you were destined for great things and all that. Hell, they're probably telling everyone that too at your funeral, now I'm not gonna tell you you're not but hey, believe me when I say everyone get's the same pep-talk kid. So ask yourself: If everyone is unique in their own little way, then is anyone truly unique? I know, pretty deep shit right? Write a Disscusion Board about it, oh who am I kidding, you can't write or discuss shit cause you're dead! HAHAHAHAHA! ahhh... So anyway, you got two choices, [[Hell]], or [[Purgatory]], red pill, blue pill, what's it gonna be? Personally I think you deserve that first one, but you mortals are always babbling on about "My body, My choice." Well technically you don't have a body anymore, but you've still gotta choice cause the ol' Reaper is nice like that, well I'm not nice, I just dont give a shit. So pick one. //Your eyes grow weary of the horrid sight before you, shifting your gaze abruptly only to find that reaper has already started down a tight narrow pathway shrouded in darkness. You unburrow your knees from the ash of the hellscape; when a burning pain cuts through your senses, fire boils the essence of your palms akin to how a branding iron melts human flesh. You wince to your feet from the sudden shock, and through a squinted glance you find the faint glow of the reaper's flaming pupils glaring back at you. He rolls his eyes before fully disappearing into the darkness. The chine on the reaper's scythe radiates with an emerald fire, illuminating a path through the dark cavern. A damp aroma engulfs you, the stench of it, while unpleasant, does not quite reach the level of utter repugnance. As the small glow briefly reveals the rigid cavern walls, your fingers brush up against the jagged edges leaving behind a thick moist substance as you pass. To fill the deafening silence is the muffled crunch of ash followed by the cracking of something solid beneath your feet, though with each step creeps the intrusive dread that whatever material shatters beneath the weight of your heels is far more disturbing than you'd care to think of.//
Grim: I'm sure you've heard of this wonderful shitshow you dragged us into called HELL, well, allow me to bust some myths for you because clearly you don't know what you're doing. Y'know the "endless torment" all you mortals think happens down here? Yeah, that only happens on Tuesdays and Saturdays, "Torture Tuesdays" and "Suffering Saturdays" it's called, I think it's pretty sad how they make a whole thing out of it, they probably have something like that for everyday of the week.Think of Hell like a larger frat house except everything is always on fire and the hazing happens two times a week, and in every frathouse the wild shenanigans is cranked up to levels beyond comprehension, only down here it's always on purpose. Bottom line is it's not a fun place to be. That usually goes down in the [[lust]] section of Hell. I see that look of despair on your face, cut the crap! You got us into this mess and you're gonna get us the hell outta dodge! You wanna go cry in a corner? Well there's plenty of corners to cry in the sinking [[guilt]] pits. Anyway they have this whole room where they watch all the [[pain]] you went through in life and laugh at it, it's like the whole fraternity came together to howl at the meme compilation that is your existence.
//The two of you emerge out from the cave to the sight of three gargantuan doors that fill most of the new area you've entered. Rows upon rows of human eyes decorate the large slabs of bronze metal, with each pair of eyes varyinging in unsettling quality. The eyes furthest left of you stare with an intense dilated gaze, scanning you from head to toe as if you are the very thing they craved in this realm of deep suffering. Teardrops of blood spatter lightly on the face of your palms as you look up to find several pairs of watery eyes leaking with crimson streaks on the door in front of you . You find yourself lost in one pair, and in that brief moment, a world of heartache and tragedy is opened to you. A world that is painfully recognizable. The spark of familiarity fades from your mind with a blink, shaking your head to erase whatever thoughts intruded into your mind. Though whatever it was, it couldn't have been worse than what followed. Several bulging eyes darted wildy in every direction, each pair occasionally met with yours, their pupils severely constricted and their light pink veins closed in around the iris. //
Grim: Oh good, we're here...wonderful. I don't know if I said this already, but fuck you.
Grim: So I take it you wanna visit the spot I told you about right? Ugh, me and my big mouth, here I was trying to turn your attention away from this place, because y'know this is kinda MY spot. I sometimes go to this said place called [[Valhalla]] to get wasted and chill with my friends, but here you are thinking this is supposed to be some "grand adventure" and you feel the the need to investigate or some shit. Jesus kid, we're navigating through limbo after your death, no need to get all exicted.
Soul: Well you did say this place wasn't the worst.
Grim: Yeah, fair poi-JESUS CHRIST YOU CAN TALK?!
Soul: Um, am I not supposed to?
Grim: Ahhhh shit. So this is what I get for giving a soul a choice in the afterlife.
Soul: Uh, what?
Grim: I'm not supposed to give the soul a choice, if I do, some unknown and deadly repercussions could occur, that could explain your unwanted chatter.
Soul: Hey-! Wait what do you mean "deadly"?
Grim: Oh, you know, random portals to Hell opening up in places they don't belong including the mortal realm.
Soul: What the fu-
Grim: Yeah, yeah, it's very hard to process we get it. Come on kid, we've done this like twice already, if you're that torn up about it Valhalla serves as a bar where you can pour out your feelings as you endlessly pour your vodka shots, now come on, lets get ourselves a drink.Grim: I knew it, I KNEW you were going to pick this room! Well this is it, this is what you humans think is so great about living! I don't get why you mortals glorify sex so much, it's in your music, on your TV and laptop, (Don't deny it kid, did you really think I would read your entire life and not see your search history?) in your schools, and books, and now it's in Hell too. Who knew the mortal teenage hormones could survive from beyond the grave? Seriously though, why give it so much power? I know it's how you people reproduce but that's it, no need for extra bullshit. You mortals have some sort of weird custom where you watch other people have sex but not you yourself, holy shit, the desparation in some of you people! Well I think I've had enough of this room, it reeks of burt flesh and sex in here, thats not a good combo of smells-JESUS CHRIST! Ok time to go kid, aint no way you dragged me down to the firey depths of Hell just to see some demon strippers dacing on some lava poles and more NSFW shit! Back to [[Three doors]], let's go, and they say I'm punishing you, you're punishing me every second we stay here. NO THAT DEMON WILL NOT SHOW YOU A "GOOD TIME"! SHE WILL LITTERLY EAT YOU! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! Grim: Hey, I-uh....I'm sorry I've been so hard on you kid, I know I've been chewing you out on this entire adventure which wasn't even supposed to happen... I'ts just that I've been doing this for more than a billion years, and each time I examine a new soul, I see the worst parts of them. All their sins, their lies, the pain they caused others, all of it. I've seen the horrible things mortal kind has done, the worst of the worst. Murder, rape, domestic abuse, slavery, trafficking, child molestation, lynching, rasicim, sexisim, overdose, kid, you name the bad deed and I've seen it a billion times over, but I've also see the good things too. The thing you humans call love, joy, happiness, friendship, family, courage, bravery, honor, kindness, and innocence and yet, you take these gifts, these offerings of good will for granted! Y'know over time as the souls of every man, woman, and child flows through the abyss, I read each of their souls, and I despise humanity a little more each a day. Then there is you, a soul who has done so much in life but never quite livied a full one. Maybe that's why you get a say in your ultimate eternal fate, so many choices were made for you, yet you never fully grew to make your own in the life you lived. Honestly, I don't fucking know, I'm just the guy who's seen too much pain and suffering and uses beer to forget about it all. Gotta deal with the suffering of countless souls somehow, right? Ok father, confession time is over. Man, I really spill the tea when I'm drunk. Yes, mythical creatures get drunk too we just don't die as a result, get over it. Hey there's a [[sign]] over here, You can still read, right? //A morbid sense of curiosity washes over you as you fixate on the bulging and dilated eyes that stare back. Behind the chaos in the irises lies a small fragment of a life you may have had. deep within yourself, a desperate whisper echoes, beckoning you closer to the door, closer to the aid of a familiar stranger. With cautious steps, you pace toward the door's large brass handle, it burns to the touch as you pull back with gritted teeth, planting your feet in the dirt as you exert all of your force. The intense weight soon lifts as the reaper himself aids you, with your combined efforts, the door cracks slightly ajar, leaving enough space for the two of you to enter. The thunderous slam of the door is soon drowned out by the wails of over a million weeping souls all confined to smoldering pine box coffins held upright in an ever flowing current of molten rock. The scent of burning flesh twists your stomach into knots while small sparks flood your eyes causing steaming teardrops to trickle down before immediately dissolving. You kneel down to gaze at the dozens of dreadful faces with blazing holes where their eyes should be, the flesh around the sockets slowly blackens as the fire rages. All rows of "eyes'' face front toward a static screen that continues to play on a loop. Upon averting your eyes to the screen, you first are subjected to the same looped static, before a monochromatic film fades into view: An elderly man lies slumped against a tombstone, several bottles surround him on the wet grass as he takes the last bottle in his hands. He shudders with each sip while wet streaks run down his face. He tilts his head back finishing the last few drops, in a sudden fit of rage he smashes the bottle on the tombstones edge, his hand trembles as he holds a shard of glass to his wrist, but tosses it aside throwing his face in hands shuddering harder as he lets out a wail of pure despair.//
Grim: Oh yeah, this room. This room is no fun, just don't think of any painful memories or they'll be reinacted and you'll be forced to watch and experience it over and over...ah shit, and there you go thinking about an old man you gotta be fucking kidding me, what did I JUST say? Y'know what? Not my problem, I don't have trauma like that. Have fun going down memory lane, I'll be chilling in that [[Lava pit]] over there.
Soul: Oh my God...
Grim: What?
Soul: Jesus Christ...
Grim: He's not here, leave a message.
Soul: Holy-
Grim: I swear, if you say "God" again, I'm decking you.
Soul: Alright! I'm sorry! Forgive me for getting kicked out of heaven, enduring some freaky demon stripper nonsense,having to watch my own father practically drink himself to death because of me, and I find it all just a little batshit insane! All the while I barely have had time to process all this!
Grim: Oh, I'm so sorry, do you want me to create a safe space for you? Do you need time to process your "feelings"? Well in case you haven't noticed....YOU'RE IN HELL! You incompetant, soft sacked dumbass! You really don't get it, do you? You think this is all some vivid dream that's supposed to teach you some grand lesson about morality, and in the end you'll wake up one day and be a better person from the experience. Take a good look around you and get use to it, welcome to your new home! This is REAL. There is no going back for you, and you couldn't go back even if you wanted to!
Soul: I didn't ask for any of this! I did the best I could in the life that I had, alright?! I tried! I went into the world as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as the next guy, only to find out that it's not what it seems. It was all a big game to them, so I decided I wasn't going to play anymore! All I've ever wanted was to be free and to do what I love and love what I do! I wanted to be different!
Grim: Hahaha!! Is this the kind of freedom you had in mind? You've got some nerve making this all about you! I'm not too thrilled about coming all the way down here either! That's the problem with all you mortals isn't it? Everyone is so concerned with themselves and never thinks to give a hand to the other guy, but when you're six feet deep and burning in hellfire, you've suddenly got the balls to cry for help! I could've let you burn back there, the moment you dragged us down into this cesspool I could've portaled myself to the void, kicked back, and cracked open a cold one, but here I am having a delightful conversation with a whining, ungrateful douchebag instead of rushing him off to eternal damnation!
Soul: Thank you, SO MUCH!
Grim: You're so very welcome!!
Soul: Jesus!!
//The reaper cracks you across the face//
Soul: Agh! What was that for?!
Grim: I told you if you say "God" again you're getting decked.
Soul: The hell are we anyway?
Grim: Look at you! Very perceptive! Maybe you'd know exactly where if you read the sign instead of picking a fight with me like a wuss. We're on the outskirts of [[Satan's Lair]]
Soul: The. WHAT.
Grim: Satan's Lair? Y'know the place where the lord of the nine hells resides? What did you expect? We're in Hell, because of you might I add, so we were bound to encounter Satan anyways. The most common misconception about Hell is that the "abandon all hope" bit is at the gate when you first enter, when in reality it's posted right before Satan's Lair, which kind of gives false pretenses which makes it seem like there was hope was here before this point which clearly there wasn't, given the demon strippers and all. False advertisement really is the great mortal sin.
//The reaper reclines on the rim of a small molten pool, letting his slim frame sink a few feet deep in the pond of fire. His flaming pupils slowly fade as he attempts to disregard the cries of the damned surrounding him. On the cusp of drifting away, one hard sob in particular grounds him to the present. The reaper's sockets alight once again to locate the cry, only to find the young soul in his care shackled to a coffin in the first row facing the screen. His sockets glow with a golden candle-like flame for pupils, turning his attention to the screen: The elderly man rest on the tombstone, his shudders and sobs now decreased to faint snores as he drifts farther away into his memories, into a time where he'd fish with his son, where he'd help him prepare for prom, and later stands beside his son as the love of his life walks down the aisle. The film fades to black as the reaper wades through fire to stand beside the weeping soul. A somber look spreads across his face as he gazes into the souls sorrowfull eyes.//
Grim: You remember now....don't you kid? Tell me, who was he?
Soul: //through quiet sobs// My dad..... But I don't understand.... he never drank a day in his life-what is this? What led to-? Oh god.... //sobs harder// oh god.....
Grim: Sometimes the worst kind of hell isn't the endless suffering you're put through, but knowing and remembering the endless suffering you put others through from the fallout of your actions. Loved ones, friends, even the strangers you have inspired, all their lives now in ruin because of one selfish act. But as much as I'm all for righteous vengeance and scumbags like you getting what they deserve, you don't belong here. So get up, we've gotta get a move on. There's a [[sign]] over there, surely if you can endure bad nostalgia on a loop, you can read a damn sign right?
//Flickering neon lights greet you both as you stand before the shack-like foundation of the bar known as Valhalla. As you stare at the old flashing bulbs through the large letters on the buildings roof, you can't help but notice that this place resembles the bars you used to vist in life, though that has to be a convient coincedence; yet this whole realm seemed to be a shattered reflection of what you used to know, Mimicking bits and pieces the mortal realm and pervertinng it slightly with the paranormal. //
Grim: Alright this is the place. Listen, please don't embarass me in there. I know I've been a dick to you this entire time but this is very important to me, ok? This is the one time I can escape processing souls and relax. Also there are some high class feinds in here, I'm talkin' Satan's right hand man, a couple decendants of Dracula, demons that dress like clowns, y'know shit like that. So don't draw attention to yourself, got it?
Soul: Is Jesus in there?
Grim: What the....Why in the underworld would Jesus be in a place like this? I literally just named off a bunch of demons and devils, why would the lord of all creation, the King of the Heavens, the guy whom literally every church is named after, be anywhere near here?
Soul: Well Jesus is supposed to be everywhere right?
Grim: You know what? I'm not playing this game with you. Inside [[the Bar]]Now.
Wendel: You must be the soul Jerry brought along.
Soul: Who's Jerry?
Wendel: Oh he didn't tell you, did he? Of course he didn't. Heh, asshole, the reaper's real name is Jerry Grim.
Soul: Hahaha! Jerry huh? I like it.
Wendel: Mhm. He's a bit sensitive about it though, most of the guys down here roast him about it because they all think it sounds "too mortal," call him Jerry and you've got yourself an unlimited reservation in Hell and very pissed off spectere bro, flaming skull and all.
Soul: Yeah he mentioned the flaming skull part.
Wendell: Hey, say what you want about Hell, but personally I woudn't mind going at all.
Soul: Wait, wait, wait, you WANT to go down there? Why? Eternal damnation seems like fun to you?
Wendell: Duuuuuude, have you even seen the chicks down there? I mean sure, endless torment sounds like a real buzzkill and all, but the place filled with a ton baddies man! Yo dude, Hell is hot for a reason, and the lustful ladies down there make it the hottest.
Soul: You can't be serious....
Wendel: Dead. Y'know, I used to date one of them.
Grim: //from across the bar// Here we go,
Hank: It was one date man, let it go, please.
Wendel: Ahhh screw you both! You guys are just mad 'cause none of you ever dated a demon. Anyways, so Im just chillin in the woods right? doing werewolf stuff and I see these trees on fire and at first I'm like "Holy shit! Shit's on fire I gotto go!" But then I see this badass looking chick, and maaaaaaaaaan she was fine! I'm talking face of an angel, body of goddess, but those eyes! Those eyes are what hooked me in all the way!
Grim: Was that before or after she broke several of your ribs and nearly ripped your heart out?
Wendel: Hey! Point is, the date was secured, I treated her to a wonderful devouring of souls, and I told her, "Souls aren't the only thing you'll be devouring tonight." and then we totally-
Hank: One: Gross, and two: I'm pretty sure she hit you. A dozen times over.
Grim: The most you got out of your so-called "date" was a halfassed kiss on the lips, and even then your soul almost burst into flames and I literaly had to pull your simping ass out of the fire. Yeah bro, you TOTALLY hit that.
Wendel: Well y'know what? Fuck you guys! When I have the baddest broad that is Count Dracula's eldest daughter as the love of my life, don't you guys dare congratulate me! Kid, if you think my story was so wack, Go talk to [[Hank]]! I'm sure he'll tell you wonderful stories about his oragami collection! I'm sure he's got plenty of stories about how to fold some damn paper! Soul: Jeez and he called Jerry sensitive.
Hank: Ah, dont worry about Wendel, he's cool, real fun to vibe with. It's just when it comes to women he's.....
Soul: Yeah I get it
Hank: Yeah....
Soul: I know plenty of people like him, well, I used to.
Hank: Yeah about that, who are you exactly? How did you end up here?
Soul: Thats the thing, I'm nobody, nobody special really. My memories are slowly fading, but from what I remember I was a guy who got tired of the soul killing cycle of life. See, up there you're born, you go to school as soon as you can walk, and you're stuck there for most of your exsistence. When you finally get out, society expects you to take all the things you "learned" from all your years in school and use it to find a job just to contribute to society so someone else can go through the cycle again, and then you die. Break the cycle at any point and society abandons you, they stop giving a fuck just like that. So one day while I was going through it, I just snapped, I couldn't understand what the cycle was all for, what it was really for, and before you know it, I left it all behind. I don't remember how I died though, maybe some guy who fell out of the cycle had a bad day and took it out on me, maybe I had a bad day and took it out on myself, but when I woke up, this skeleton with a black cloak and scythe is telling me that I fucked up in life.
Hank: Damn pal, sounds like you've been through some shit, So why do you think you're here?
Soul: Why am I suddenly in a bar with the Grim Reaper, who's an alcoholic, a thirsty werewolf who's simping for a demon, a talking headless guy, and a bunch of other fantastical monsters who only exist in mortal horror films and pop culture? I have no clue. What about you, how are you here?
Hank: Me? I'm just one of those fantastical monsters who grew up in one of the many realms of the underworld, well, actually I'm the great grandson of the headless horseman but he's kind of irrelevant now, so Im a bit of a nobody myself, but I found friendship in those two assholes over there and they helped me find purpose in purgatory, because of them I have more confidence in myself and I just feel like a better person around them. So if I can find meaning, then maybe, just maybe you're here for redemption.
Soul: Redemption? in a place like this? I don't follow.
Hank: You said you fell out of the cycle in life, right? Well maybe this is where your second cycle begins, in death, a fresh start.
Soul: Huh, that's actually a good way of looking at it. Y'know for a guy with no head, you sure have yours on straight Hank.
Hank: Hey man, thanks for being honest.
Grim: Hey, uh, so drinking is no longer fun once you realize you have a god-like metabolism so uh, yeah. You guys wanna do something or what?
Hank: It seems like nice night for the [[Tombs]]
Soul: What tombs?
Grim: It's a place where me and the boys go some nights to kill zombies for fun an- wait, no, NO! You are NOT coming with us to the tombs, this is not some field trip where you get to sightsee! I'm supposed to be taking you to your afterlife!
Soul: Well technically I'm already sightseeing,
Hank: You did take him to this bar,
Grim: That doesn't count! I took him here because I needed a drink, also because he's kinda my job, I am still working, technically. Come on, me, you, and Wendel can fight hordes of the undead like we always do, and he can go to [[The Glad]].
Soul: The Glad?
Hank: The Gladiator Pit
Soul: There's a Gladiator Pit.... in the bar??
Grim: Why do you think this bar is called Valhallah? Because it sounds cool?
Soul: Um...yes?
Grim: No! unlike mortals, down here, we mean the shit we say!
Hank: Hey, where's Wendel?
Grim: Probably murdering his chances of finding true love or happiness, //looks over// this motherfucker....He's with that damn succubus again. Let me get that idiot before he dooms us all.
Wendel: Remind me why we're bringing this random mortal along with us again?
Grim: I'm gonna have to go with the simp on this one, I clearly expressed why he shouldn't go with us on this trip.
Hank: Come on guys, cut the kid a break. I think it's nice he gets to join us on our little tradition of zombie mercy killings. Besides he's discovering a whole new world beyond all he knows.
Wendel: Key word there, OUR tradition, as in you, me, and tall-dark and bones over there, and if we wanted to show him a whole new world we would have hooked him up with that one chick and the flying carpet, not star in a way cooler rip off of The Walking Dead.
Grim: Cut it out with the mortal references.
Wendel: Just tryna be relatable jeez.
Grim: HA! you think that sack of shit is relatable? Do you know what he's done? He cheated on his wife multiple times, never showed up to his little sister's funeral, helped an old lady only half way across the street, I mean seriously, who the hell does that? And that's only the first half of his life.
Soul: You're an asshole, you know that Jerry?
Grim: The hell did you just call me?
Soul: Yeah that's right, I know your real name bitch! The reaper is supposed to escourt souls, not judge them. You're not the scary myth people make you out to be, you're just some goddamn lazy drunk who thinks he's so much better than everyone else just because he carries a stick with a blade and wears black!
//The reaper gives you a hard shove, his skull now ablaze with an intense green fire, his scythe is at your throat, he speaks to you in a voice very low and cold//
Grim: Now you listen here and you listen well. You need to realize that you arent in the land of the living anymore, I'm not some guy you can talk shit to any kinda way, you gave up that privillage when you blew your own fucking brains out. You may not remember how you died, but I do, you're a sad, selfish, little bastard who couldn't catch what life threw at him so you threw it all away just to lay down and die. Consider it a mercy that I'm a "goddamn lazy drunk" because if I was stone cold sober, I would've sent your sorry ass so far deep down into Hell that you'd beg only to be on the first level.
Hank: BOTH OF YOU STOP! Nobody is sending anyone anywhere! We're here to relax and have fun, and if neither of you can do that then you can get the fuck out right now. Grim, dont be such a hardass when it comes to your real name, show some restraint, and you, he's right, you don't know anything about anything when it comes to this place, so stop acting like you know everything now.
Wendel: So uhhhhh if everyone's done losing their shit, I'd like to address the massive hordes of undead, like, right in front of us.
//Waves upon waves of undead crawl slowly towards you, the giant mass of rotting bodies are like an ocean of the decayed//
Grim: How many do you count, Hank?
Hank: Millions, mabye billions.
Wendel:Should only take an hour or so...
Soul: What about me?
Grim: You should stay here.
Hank: Grim...
Grim: BUT we could use the extra help.
Wendel: Ok, you guys know the drill, first to 10,000 kills wins.
//The foursome leaped in to combat readying themselves for the massacare they were about to commit, before long they were all hacking and slashing their way through the hordes. The reaper cuts through the waves of rotting bodies with his scythe, the curved blade slicing through cartilage and tissue. The werewolf mauls away at the rotten flesh, in this one moment of sheer berserker rage, the wolf in the man fully takes hold. The headless man sets them all ablaze with a tundra of fire, the flesh of the dead boil in the wake of the concentrated inferno, their snarls and screams are cut short as the blaze melts away the remains of their vocal cords. As the horde of corpses continue to pile on, they are turned into a mess of guts, ash, and rotten bone. the soul had no weapon so you do your best to fight off the undead.//
Grim: HEY KID! LET ME SHOW YOU WHAT A GODDAMN LAZY DRUNK CAN REALLY DO!!!
//The reaper plunges the wooden end of his scythe into the dirt, his eyes glow green and a smile comes across his face, a mixture of green aura and pure darkness swirls around him, and with one upward thrust massive green chains of fire rip from the earth, wraping around a horde of zombies causing them to explode//
Soul: Woah....
Grim: Heads up! //He tosses you his scythe//
Soul: What are you-
Grim: Not judging souls, now use it!
//As you grip the scythe dark energy swirls around you can feel the presence of a million souls all at once, and with one big burst of energy all the zombies are evaporated from your power//.
Grim: Nice job kid,
Soul: What did I just do?
Grim: Fuck with power you should never mess with.
YOU BEAT EVERYONE IN THE GAME OF ZOMBIES. GO TO [[Ending #2]]Grim: Welcome to The Glad, the place where monsters, beat the shit outta each other for other monster's entertainment, or are you familliar with that sort of thing considering humanity does this 24/7?
Soul: Yeah, yeah, humanity sucks. I get it.
Hank: Looks like the cyclops is getting his head smashed in again by the golem, poor guy, at least he put in the effort.
Wendel: I would've smashed too, if SOMEONE hadn't snatched me away from the greatest moment of my life!!
Grim: It was a succubus dipshit! Those kind of relationships are always one sided
Wendel: And that would have stopped me from pursuing because??
Grim: You're right Wendel, it wouldn't have stopped you, because hooking up with a demon whose sole intention is to have sex with you and then devour your soul is totally an example of a healthy and balanced relationship.
Wendel: Fuck You.
Soul: Hey Grim, aren't you supposed to y'know, take that cyclops soul to an afterlife?
Grim: Can't, he's immortal. As long as his soul wishes to fight, I can't touch him.
Soul: So he gets to fight forever?
Grim: Yup
Soul: Damn that's pretty intense
Grim: It's a fight club kid, It's their native language.
Hank: Hey look at who's up next, who the hell is "Bitch-ass Mortal?"
Wendel: Serves you right for not listening to my story, asshole.
Grim: THE HELL DID YOU DO?!
Wendel: I signed him up to fight!
Soul: YOU WHAT?!
Hank: WHEN DID YOU REGISTER HIM TO FIGHT?!
Wendel: The succubus offered me ten rounds if I showed her a good fight in the Pit!
Grim: YOU DUMBASS!!! YOU RISKED A MORTAL SOUL FOR SOME PUSSY?!
Hank: Well whose he up against? Zombies? Skeletons? Giant Spider?
Wendel: Thor.
Soul: THOR!?!
Grim: this mother-
Soul: Thor, like the God of Thunder Thor?!
Wendel: Do you know another Thor?
Hank: WHY?!
Wendel It seemed like a good matchup.
Soul: FuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!! //starts sobbing//
Grim: Look kid, I know this is bad, but you have to fight him. There's no way out of this.
Hank: Gee thanks, Wendel!
Soul: How do I beat him?
Grim: He's a god but he can bleed, //breaks a beer bottle// here take this.
Soul: A shank?! You want me to kill a god with a shank?!
Wendel: David beat Goliath with a rock, so you're good
Grim: SHUT THE FUCK UP WENDEL!!! He's right though, you gotta have faith or some shit like that, now go!
Hank: You got this kid! This is your redemption arc!
//Thor and You as the soul step into the ring. Lightning crackles around the large man as he grips the mighty hammer of Mjolnir and you clutch a broken beer bottle. Thor spins his hammer at rapid speed,//
Thor: Surrender and you will die quickly, mortal.
Soul: Doesn't sound like a bad idea, truce?
Thor: No.
//Thor Launches his hammer at the soul just barley misses your head, the impact of the hammer creates a massive crater in the wall behind you//
Hank: He's gonna die
Grim: Probably
//As the God contiues to take massive swings filled with fury, you manage to find openings and cut Thor a dozen times over, weaving and slash as he attemps to land each blow, eventually drawing blood from his pale flesh//
Thor: RAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!
Hank: Did Thor just roar in agony?
Grim: He did.
Wendel: I might get my ten rounds after all.
Hank: You're not getting shit.
//The God of Thunder is severly cut, bruised, and bloodied. With one final attepmt, Thor charges up is hammer, and leaps high in the air, You stand back in fear, with only a single shard of the bottle left in your hand//
Thor: DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!
Soul: YOU FIRST!!!!!
//You plunge the shard in the God's throat. He falls from the air, lightning fades from Thor's body and his hammer lands on his skull, splitting it in two killing him.//
YOU KILLED A FUCKING GOD. GO TO [[Ending #1]]Grim: HOLY SHIT!
Hank: HOLY SHIT!
Wendel: HOLY SHIT!
//The crowd roars in applause and hundrends of monsters rush the stands. You just killed a God//
Grim: Kid....you killed a fucking god.....
Soul: yeah....
Grim: Do you know what this means?
Soul: I can finally go to Heaven?
Grim: No! What did I tell you about that happy ending shit? You can fight forever now, you killed the champion of the arena. Now you're the champion.
Soul: So what now?
Grim: Well this is your afterlife now, which means my job is done here. It's been real kid. //Opens portal//
Grim: Oh yeah, you're also worthy of Thor's hammer now, so uh, have fun with that. //he leaves//
//Mjolnir lies in a deep crater in the arena, it's head still crackling with thunderous power, the handle now stained with the blood of the fallen god of thunder. As you place a firm grip on the handle the roar of the underwordly crowd is drowned out by the sounds of thunder that only you can hear. With one of the most powerful weapons in the underworld and beyond in your hands, you weild such a weapon with the fury of a new god in it's prime. It shall fly through chest of devils, shatter the skulls of demons, and for all creatures who set foot in the gladiator pits of Valhallah? They too, shall taste the full might of a new god's fury and lighting. In life you were nothing more than a mortal crushed under the weight of the trials and tribulations of life, with bones so brittle they'd break with the slightest hint of pressure. In death you've evolved to something greater: a patron of purgatory, the gladiator made a god, Vallhallah's vengence. In the Underworld, those who fear you and adore you all know you by one name: STORMSHADE. But what of the fallen god Thor? Yet another soul lost in the storm of the abandoned in the vast abyss of purgatory, and cursed with an undying fate. Though some say the late thunder god can be seen endlessly drifting in a frozen desert ruled by a devil of mischief...// Wendel: Damn it! Alright, who took out all the zombies in one fell swoop? Hank, was it you? Y'know that super nova shit you do from your head hole is not cool man, It may look badass from the outside, but I'm telling you it's a total vibe kill.
Hank: When have I ever done the super nova thing?
Wendel: Remember that one time we were at your parent's house and your head got stuck in a horse's-
Hank: Alright! Jesus! No, I didnt do the super nova thing. Jesus, just don't finish that sentence, you said you'd never repeat that story!
Wendel: Hehhehe....What about you Grim? did you to anything super OP-why is the kid holding your scythe?
Soul: I-I still don't understand, why give me the scythe?
Grim: To prove a point, to show you that being a reaper isn't a cake walk. Kid, when you held the scythe, you felt the pressure of over a trillion souls all at once in all of its intesity, your mortality caused the explosion which should wiped you from existence, yet here you are, proving me right. Every time I hold the scythe, I feel that same pressure, that same intesity, hence the green fire when I nearly sent you to hell just now. I'm in control of it all though, simply by not giving a fuck, and a shit ton of alcohol.
Wendel: I'm sorry, are you saying the kid set off the explosion with your scythe???
Hank: Really? Grim, the most reserved guy in our friend group, just told us a huge secret about himself and thats your takeaway? No wonder women can't stand you,
Wendel: Asshole
Soul: What's gonna happen to me? I touched your scythe, does that mean I become you or something?
Grim: What? HELL NO! as a matter of fact, give me that. //takes scythe// Well, I know one thing, Heaven aint gonna take you now that you've touched a cursed weapon, and I'm now too lazy to send you to Hell. so I hate to say it, and trust me I really do hate say it, but... you're stuck with us.
Wendel: WHAT?! YOU'VE GOT TO BE FUCKING WITH ME! Don't tell me he's joining our merry band of three?
Hank: He is?
Wendel:NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO?!
Hank: LET'S GOOOOOOO! Welcome to the crew!
//With the carnage now over, the four uncanny warriors of the underworld walk back to Valhallah to indulge in one last drink. In life, you were alone, exiled from the common members of society, longing to break the chains of societal expectation, only to entangle yourself in the many shackles of unending desire that eventually became a new prison of your own making. In death you have found comradery in the strangest of beings: The reaper: A drunken spectre who keeps the balance of mortal fate despite his hatred for them. The wolfman: A raging beast that wears a fascade of lust and arrogance, and the headless man with a heart of gold: A being that holds hellfire within but will not hesitate to fight for friends. Together they have a bond like you've never seen before, with this company you now keep, you feel you're ready to follow them and start on the path of redemption.// //You trail behind the tall spectre silently. By now your feet have grown acustom to shattering small bones on ocassion with each step, the screaming souls have become nothing more than white noise that fills your ears, and the feeling of shock no longer registers when passing by corpses strapped to various mechanisms designed for unimaginable forms of torture. However, moments after witnessing such atrocities, you begin to wonder if this slow numbness to extreme violence is even extreme at all. You hone in on the innerworkings of the torture devices, as well as the countless living corpses that decorate the walls around you. With that slithers the disturbing comfort that all souls in this realm have earned their place in endless torment: liars, killers, thieves, rapists, they all deserved their fate...but does that same damning affirmation speak for you...? Your gaze shifts to the reaper's pitch black cloak tail, tainted by ash and brimstone. What happens after the spectre releases you from his temporary custody? The horrid sights seen previously set the ruthless precedant that the firey depths below held no discrimination against the manner of sin and the sinner, what sort of cruel punishment lies in wait for a soul attempting to end his own mortal anguish that was a mundane life?//
Grim: Alright we're here, the throne room should be just up ahead. We're probably gonna have to fight a shit ton of demons to get there so-are you quivering?
Soul: U-uh N-No
Grim: Don't try and gaslight me, you stuttered just now.
Soul: Yeah I'm fucking terrified now.
Grim: Yeah that's fair, there is a possibility that you could get trapped here forever and I'd be powerless to save you by law of the natrual order.
Soul: //lip starts to tremble//
Grim: Oh God, please don't cry. We already went through the guilt pits remember? Also you had your little meltdown in the room with the coffins. For it to happen a third time would be depressingly redundant and pathetic, also it's pretty embarassing considering where we are.
Soul: //crying// I don't wanna die down here!
Grim: Ok, one: you're already dead, that's been established. and two: if you don't like it down here, just kill the guy in charge.
Soul: We can do that?
Grim: Sure we can! We'll walk in there, commit mass demon genocide, and feed Lucifer all six of his hearts. You and me kid, how 'bout it?
Soul: Yeah lets do it!
???: Nobody's doing jack!
Grim: Ahhhhh damn it, not this guy
Soul: Who is that?
//A humanoid-like demon smashes down on the molten isle before you, his blood red skin glistens from the illumination from the hellfire pool that lies adjacent. He runs his massive hand through dirty blonde hair, pushing it back to reveal his firey golden eyes and a smug grin filled with fangs. //
Grim: Kid, this is Don the Demon, Satan's #1 lap dog
Don: I'm his right hand man!
Grim: Keep telling yourself that.
Soul: We really don't have time for this!
Grim: See? He gets it, I'm on the clock here, Donnie.
Don: Shut up! No one is touching the mighty Lucifer! if you wanna see the bossman, you'll have to go through m-//You lunge at Don stabbing him repeatedly //
Grim: Oh my Go-JESUS!
Soul: You said take out the the guy in charge right?
Grim: He was a LACKEY!
Soul: He was the right hand man!
Grim: He probably tells himself that everyday to feel a sliver of importance! You really think the lord of the nine hells would have a guy named "Don" by his side?! Don is the name you get when all the respectable names are taken! He probably needed something to compensate!
Soul: Aren't you gonna ask about the shank?
Grim: //sigh,//Where'd you get the shank?
Soul: I made it during the "No one is touching the mighty Lucifer" bit, cool, huh?
Grim: NO! Very uncool! Christ! Half the demons are gonna be on our asses because of your little stunt! Now I gotta say something quirky and overly cocky to convince myself I'm ok with this! //Shouting// LUCYYYY COME OUT AND PLAAAAAAAAY!!!!
// You two are immediately surrounded by thousands of demons, they all circle you, eager to devour your soul. The soft fabric of the reaper's cloak can be felt against your back, the hellish deformities varying in size begin to close in tigher around you as their snarls and hideous laughter fills your ears. //
Grim: Alright kid, the record has gone above and beyond to show that you've undoubtedly screwed the pooch on numerous occasions. This being one of them; possibly the last one. I can't say we'll be the best of friends after this, as a matter of fact I can garuntee we won't be, but if you fight alongside me against god knows how many of these guys there are, there's a high chance that I'll hate you a little less. So pick one, my [[scythe]], or these badass [[gauntlets]]?
Soul: Where'd the guantlets come from?
Grim: Now's really not a good time to worry about that.
Soul: It seems a bit off that a pontentially powerful weapon is just lying here at the center of hell seemingly for the sake of our convenience, y'know?
Grim: By now you should know where we are! Literaly EVERYTHING is off! What's that mortal saying? "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth?" This is clearly a gift horse, so stop dangling around in its throat and pick up the giant-sized fisticuffs! Wreak havoc!
Soul: Screw that! I'm not risking my life over a weapon that could have a 99.9% chance of being cursed or something!
Grim: For the love of- WHAT LIFE?! News Flash, you're still dead! Whatever 99.9% of bad juju is in those gauntlets, I'm gonna need you to get over it real fast because these demons are gonna 100% rip us apart! Do it now kid!
Soul: What happens if I take the scythe? Do I need to be worthy or-
Grim: FOR FUCKS SAKE! THIS ISN'T SOME COMIC BOOK! PICK A WEAPON! GAUNTLETS OR SCYTHE! NOW!Soul: Give me the guantlets!
Grim: IT'S ABOUT GODDAMNED TIME! GIVE 'EM HELL KID!!!
//With the Gauntlets of the Grave, you split skulls with a single strike, demons beg for mercy at your feet, but you grant them none. You end them with savage blow after blow. No demon is left alive in your wake, the fiendish corpses pile up with each strike you deliver. Through bloodstained eyes, you fixate on a gargantuan beast on a throne of brimstone. It's lips part into a wide malicious fang filled smile spreading from ear to ear, the snake half of it's body slowly slithering to and fro. The beast slightly leans forward from his throne, it's massive horns aimed directly at you. A chilling whisper violates your thoughts, and as you find yourself lost for a moment within the beasts eyes as it speaks, "Come. Take your vengence boy." Adrenealine and unbridled rage consume you as break into a full lunge, the demons in your path becoming but a bloody blur as you demolish them while growing ever closer to [[The Devil Himself]].//
//While fending off the remaining horde, the reaper cuts through coutless demons, severing heads and torsos alike. While his scythe finds its way into yet another skull, your rage filled sprint gets the attention of a winged fiend as it starts to charge after you. Before it can get anywhere near you, a glowing emerald chain wraps around it's neck, snapping it. The reaper's satisfaction with his kill soon fades, his eyes go wide with horror as he spots you running at full force toward the demon king.//
GRIM: WAIT! KID STOP! Lucifer is a very powerful telepath he'll- //But as you leap into the air, your fist barely inches away from his chest, everything fades to black.//
Grim: Fuck, that was a lot of demons
Soul: Lot of blood too
//you give the reaper back his scythe//
Grim: Keep it.
Soul: What?
Grim: Keep the sycthe it's a good look on you, kid.
Soul: I don't-
Grim: For a long time I wanted to do so much more than just deliver the wicked souls, I've always wanted to make them suffer for what the did to humanity. Instead I just simply delivered souls, my great power wasted to be an errand boy of the cosmos, but no more. Lucifer is dead, and I shall take his place. So congrats kid, Have fun being the new spectre of souls, but promise me this, when you get the worst of the worst, you send them directly to me.
Soul: I will.
//As you open a portal with your newly acquired scythe, the sound of low chuckles slowly ascending into mad howls of laughter echo from behind you. A deal with the devil has gone in your favor. Darkness ingulfs your essence as you enter through the portal, before you is the absence of all things. The void surrounds you in all of it's totality. Welcome to the abyss. By just being in this blackness you begin to feel the change of your very being, the void that smothers you begins to take shape in the form of a cloak, the hollowness you once felt begins to fill with the presence of solidity. Teeth start to grow where your mouth once was, and you now feel the joints and ligaments in your fingers as if you were returning to life once again, or perhaps entering into a state of undeath. Your transformation into a humaniod form is not complete though, in the place of what would've been your skin, blood, and muscles, is the jade necrotic aura, the very energy of death made tangible. The scythe you wield feels lighter, as if the weapon itself is made aware of your worth. Also made known to you is the sight of a small cabin in the distance. Perhaps what lies in the abyss is not the mere absence of things, but things that remain hidden, only to be seen by a worthy few. The cabin itself seems to have been cloaked with a mix of obsidian and oak wood, its exterior design resembles more of a small shack, with it's splintered wood coming from it's walls and fractured shards with a twilight glow perched low from it's roof, but even with all it's overt imperfections, it's a place you'll call home. The souls of billions upon billons of mortals are your only company, and you can see them all through the steel arc of your scythe. Every now and again, you gaze upon the souls of the deceased and send them to their fate only known to you and God himself. Eternal darkness has become a paradise and fortunetly for you, you never have to leave//. //Your own punches thunder In your ears as you continue to pummel whatevers left of the demon king.//
Grim: HEY! woah! easy! easy! He's done! You got him!
Soul: I-I did it!
Grim: Yeah, a little too well.
Soul: Who the fuck cares?! I killed Satan!!
Grim: I can see that.
//you stare at Satan's vacant throne, and suddenly you have a thought, what if..//
Soul: What if... What if I became Satan?
Grim: Ohhhhhh no. Kid, I know what you're thinking and it's not a good idea, trust me. The bastards will respawn soon and one of them will take the mantle. Walk. Away.
Soul: If another demon takes the mantle then it starts all over again, but I can be BETTER than them, I'll make sure that bad things will happen to bad people, I can make sure that the next Hitler suffers twice as much! Every rapist, racist, and killer, THEY'LL ALL BURN!!!!!! I WILL CLEANSE THE EARTH OF ALL THAT IS WICKED! EVERY MAN, BUT NOT JUST THE MEN, BUT THE WOMEN AND THE CHILDREN.....
Grim: Children? Listen to yourself kid, you're-
Demonic Soul: I'M WHAT?! JUST ANOTHER SOUL PASSING THROUGH YOUR ABYSS?! YOU JUDGED ME! RIDDICULED ME! YOU DIDN'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT ME, AND NOW HERE YOU ARE LECTURING ME ABOUT POWER?! WHO ARE YOU TO LECTURE ME?! YOU'RE ONE OF THE MOST POWERFUL BEINGS IN THE UNIVERSE AND YOU WASTE IT DELIVERING SOULS!! GET OUT BEFORE I DESTORY YOU.
Grim: So that's how it is huh? //Gives you the finger// see ya around kid-Oh, I'm sorry, Lord Satan. CONTENT WARNING: This piece includes references to suicide, graphic content, and sexual themes. Continue to [[afterlife]] //An abrupt chill shoots throughout your entire body as you smash down hard on the cold surface of yet another void. You slowly rise, hearing the echo of your own footsteps ricochet off of the unseen barriers of this unknown place. The weight of your guantlets slowly drag you back down before you completely shake them loose with a loud clatter.//
???: Whoa there, kiddo! You oughta be more careful with those things, you coulda taken someone's eye out! //You slowly lift your eyes to see an elderly hand reaching down to pull you up. Those soft gentle hands accopanied by that heartwarming smile, complete with all the wrinkles and blemeshes you remember him by. Gazing into those grayish blue eyes was all anyone needed to know that they were more than safe.//
Soul: Dad....?
Dad: Last time I checked I sure was! //You throw yourself into your fathers arms, smotherthing yourself in the fresh colonge he'd wear to church every Sunday. You feel his soft hands caress your back as he holds you tighter than he ever has before.//
Soul: I-I'm so sorry for what I did to you....It was selfish, stupid I never should have left you alone like that I-
Dad: Hey, hey, slow down. What're you sorry for?
Soul: You....don't remember?
Dad: Son, the only thing I remember is how active your imagination can get!
Soul: I was....in Hell...the Grim Reaper was shouting something.....
Dad: Oh my...your imagination kicked into overdrive this time, The Grim Reaper, Hell, are these the characters in that fantasy book you're writing?
Soul: I....
Dad: Well I'd love to hear all about it! Your mother's got a whole feast waiting for us back [[home]]! Fried turkey with sweet potato pie and fresh greens.
Soul: Home?
Dad: You didn't forget where home is did ya?
Soul: No,
Dad: Well what are ya waiting for?
//The reaper is immeadately devoured by sentient darkness, his surrondings growing faint and faded as time itself slowed to a hault. The rough texture of ash and brimstone he once felt beneath his feet was now substituted with the moist frozen earth of the blackend veil. He knew far better than to mistake this new realm for his own of the abyss, despite it striking a vivid resemblence. Appearence alone could never smother the stench of pure evil. He conjures the emrald embers, alighting his scythe once again. The sudden patter of cautious footsteps grew closer from behind as Grim's pupils are set ablaze with a violent green spark. //
???: Oh, you won't be needing that. //At the sound of a single snap, the fire emanating from the chine is snuffed out. From the shadows appears a slender man adjusting the silver cufflinks of his sleek dark suit and red tie. A smug grin spreads across his face as he meets the reaper's gaze. The faint glow of an old lantern in his right hand brings out a dark twinke in his eyes, glistiening like twin dark rubies as he steps forward.// Lucifer at your diservice, I hear you'd like to make a deal with yours truly.
Grim: No. I just wanted your attention.
Lucifer: Ooh, deception AND hidden sinsister motives! I see you've already mastered Hell's native tougue.
Grim: Cut the shit snake man, this isn't a social call.
Lucifer: Oh it's always buisness with you! All work and no foul play. Nevertheless a job's a job, so I'll bite....or better yet....I'll drink! //From his left palm, a small smoldering slit grows to the size a small portal; from it, Lucifer conjurs two bottles of beer, and in his right hand is a small deck of playing cards.// Well I think you could use a break from the eternal grind hmm? So pick your poison: a scandalous game of [[BlackJack]], or a lovely view of the nine hells under a [[Blue Moon]]?
Soul: Give me the scythe!
Grim: Take it! Feel all the souls of the dead and the dying and let that shit fuel you, let it pour into you and before you know it the scythe will be like your new arm. I want it back when this is all over.
Soul: What will you do?
Grim: I'm gonna go make [[a deal with the devil]]. Keep these numb nuts off my back, you got that?
Soul: What does that mean? How will you-?
Grim: Cut it out with second guessing everything! Just pretend to understand and say "ok."
Soul: Ok. // Grim walks toward the devil before immeadiately being stopped by three demons.//
Demon 1: Though we cannot feast on your soul spectre, you have a suppliment we crave just as much.
Demon 2: You radiate with great necrotic power....we will enjoy sucking it dry from your corpse....
Grim: That's redundant. Listen, I wanna make a deal with your boss, heard he gets real hard for that sorta thing. That's besides the point, but its really none of your buisness. Please move.
Demon 3: We will not allow- //Grim punches the third demon in the throat and proceeds to gouch his eyes out with just two fingers. The fiend doubles over in agony, clutching his face as the other two look down in horror.//
Grim: Now if I were the two of you, I'd fuck right off and take my chances with the soul swinging the scythe over there. If you do manage to survive, I'd love to hear all about it later. Now get lost. //the demons scurry off.//
Grim: Now where was I? Oh yeah, LUCY! I've come to bargain!
//The flames in the reaper's eyes slowly dim, staring at the red deck of playing cards in Lucifer's right hand. Though it was presented as a simple choice, he knew it was anythig but. Lucifer's malicious grin grew wider as Grim lightly tapped the deck box.//
Lucifer: Haha! Winner winner, saints and sinners! And they say that death is no fun. I never took the spectre of souls for a gambler, color me delightfully surprised!
Grim: Keep it in your pants, I'll play your little game this one time.
Lucifer: It always starts with one, before long I'm sure you'll be well down the rabbit hole of madness, won't you, Alice? What better place to play than in the mortal wonderland of woes? //Fluorescent light radiates from a polished wooden doorway in the distance, the reaper shielding his eyes as he cautiously steps closer to the light. Lucifer outstretches his arm towards the door, taking a small bow.// By all means, after you. //Smooth red fabric caresses your heels as you enter, the clinking of over a dozen gold coins could be heard over the wild notes of various slot machines that littered both sides of the casino isle.//
Lucifer: Ahhh this place never gets old, The sights and sound of mortals selling their souls to me in the epicenter of human greed, I must say it's euphoric to the senses.
Grim: Wow, make a deal in a place where literaly everything is a shining example of why you shouldn't make deals, how original.
Lucifer: You're not the only one who can interact with the living, It's common knowledge that people sin just as much as they die. With the evolution of man came the evolution of their greed, //The two arrive at a small round table, the vibrant glow of a glass chandelier casts two long shadows at each end as they took their seats. Lucifer neatly dumps the deck of cards in one hand, cutting it three times.// but it doesn't take an absurd lust for riches for me to know that you do indeed want something from me, despite your ever present jaded demeanor. Now, shall we play a game? //Lucifer smiles, sliding the repear an ace and another card face down.// I'll be dealer of course, //Lucifer conjures a perfect copy of himself as the clone slides Lucifer his two cards. He has a king of diamonds and an unkown card. //
//You have an ace of spades and a 3 of clubs. In this round Aces = 1 //
Clone: Would either of you like a [[hit]]?
//The reaper snatches one of the two beers out of Lucifer's left hand, the cool vapor lightly soaking his cloak as he held it.//
Lucifer: I make it my business to know the darkest desires of everyone, and I just knew a cold brew was one of yours! All we need now is [[a nice view]] to compliment the beers and to complete the asthetic wouldn't you say?
Grim: This is how the lord of hell spends his time? No wonder the damned hate this place, they eternaly suffer from agonizing bordem.
Lucifer: I am many things spectre, but boring isn't one of them, let me show you.
Grim: He says while foaming at the mouth over small shit like "asthetic", sure yeah, whatever. Enlighten me, but just know I'm soley coming for the cold one. Grim: Hit me. //The clone slides you a card: a ten of diamonds//
Lucifer: I never actually got the chance to thank you, without you sending countless souls to down here, my endless buffet of the damned and entertainmet wouldn't be possible. You truly are the gift that keeps on giving. Every day I'm treated to refreshing meal ripe with mortal anguish; to think that the reaper himself is working tirelessly to get me my daily dose of dopamine truly warms my hearts. Hit me. //The dealer slides him another card.//
Grim: If I had a legit mouth, with a throat and all, I'd throw up right now. the fact that you think that I bust my ass dealing with souls around the clock soley for your entertaiment is laughably pathetic, though I should expect nothing less from the king of kissass.
Lucifer: Careful. Your immortality will only make your suffering all the more sweeter if I decide to torture you for that. I'm trying to be a good host here friend, the least you could do is behave.
Grim: Bottom line is, I don't need jack shit from you, "friend." For all you know, I could be buying time, waiting for the soul out there to slaughter all your lap dogs until there's no one left to lick your boots. I don't work for you. Never have, never will.
Lucifer: Lying is my game, Grimbo. I must admit your little attempts at deception were cute before, but now it's heartbreaking to see you try and lie your way out of suspicion. You come into my house, slaughter my men, and march right up to my throne demanding my attention. Well now you have it in abundance and undivided, so let's try being honest this time hmm? Or as you would put it: "cut the shit".
Clone: [[Hit]] or [[Stay]], Spectre? Grim: Hit me. //The Clone slides you a card: a seven of hearts.// You'd love that, wouldn't you? The mighty Lucifer, kicked from his music gig in at the pearly gates only to sit on his ass watching torture porn and play cards for all eternity, helluva coping mechanism though. There, how's that for honesty?
Lucifer: Oh, all the bluster and slander for what? Drag my name through the mud all you'd like, but you came to bargain, so bargain. If I didn't know any better, I'd say your here to put a good word in for that sinner you dragged down here.
//The reaper clenches his fists, a spark of rage reignighting in the dark sockets of his skull.//
Lucifer: Ohhhhh, there it is. Ladies and gentlemen we've hit the jackpot! Beneath the slurs and the vulgar bravado is a lonely old skeleton begging the king of Hell to give is little friend a chance.
Grim: He's not my friend. He's my responsiblity.
Lucifer: HA! Isn't he? Are you really going to tell me that you both came all the way down here and you didn't bond along the way? No talk about sports? Women? Life? No witty banter? No heart to heart? Jesus Grim, if that's really the case you really are cold hearted, and I'm the Devil! Say I'm still buying your lone wolf act, if you really don't care, Then why go out of your way to personally escort him all the way to the ninth layer of Hell? The moment you showed up here you could have left him here to burn forever, I mean what's another piece-of-shit-mortal getting what they deserve right?
Grim: //The reaper uncIenches his fist as sadness crosses his face// I wanted to be wrong about them. I wanted to be wrong about them all.
Lucifer: Awww, well isn't that sweet, you do care! That truly is touching. I hoped you were wrong about them all too, nothing's more succulent than burning a damned soul that's got a heart of gold. I'm going to torture him nice and slow just for you; when you're back up there in your sweet nothingness, I'll make sure you hear his screams through the silence.
Grim: You won't touch him.
Lucifer: HAHAHA! What will you do?! You personally delivered him to my doorstep! The job's half done! Once this is over I'll have the rest of the demons in this hellhole come and rip apart and then the real fun can begin. You two maybe fending off my forces for the moment, but you have no idea how helpless you really are. So tell me again how I won't gain what is rightfully mine?
Grim: Because your right, Lucifer. I do have a [[deal]] for you, and it's one you won't refuse.
//Lucifer turns to the clone with a light chuckle.// Oh, this should be good. Tell me my dear spectre, what is it you could possibibly offer me?
Grim: I lied before, I didn't come to deliver the soul to you, I came for you. In exchange for the souls pardon, I give you relief from your duties as Hell's king. I, the grim reaper, spectre of souls will take your place as the ruler of the nine hells of the Underworld.
Lucifer: HAHAHAHAHAHA! AND THEY CALL ME CRAZY! What makes you think I'll hand you the throne? YOU?!
Grim: Is it that crazy? I don't live under a rock, I've seen the way your "loyal" subjects look at you. How long do you think it will be before someone else takes the mantel and your the one burning? Treachery is the ninth circle after all.
Lucifer: How do I know with you in charge, I won't burn?
Grim: You don't. I can garuntee that the soul will meet a worse fate and you'll get a front row seat.
Lucifer: Ooooh. I must say, I am taken abback by this offer of yours. I always thought you were a buzzkill, but this? Forsaking your role in the natural order? Picking a side in the never-ending battle of good vs. evil? That is hard to refuse. What happens to the soul?
Grim: Sometimes the worst kind of hell isn't the endless suffering you're put through, but knowing and remembering the endless suffering you put others through from the fallout of your actions.
//Lucifer's eyes widen, a disturbing smile slowly comes across his face at the realization of what it all meant.//
Lucifer: You feel it all don't you? Every sin, every misdeed, all the trauma inflicted in every part of a life. You don't just see mortal lives, you taste every bit of it; you can't stand it can you? IT'S LIKE YOUR TRAPPED IN YOUR OWN LITTLE HELL! HAHAHAHAHA!!! giving the soul a taste of your own misery, you selfish bastard! I wish I'd thought of it myself.
Grim: So do we have a deal?
Lucifer: I have to admit, you'd make a great sleezy businessman, swindling me like that. heh......It was a pleasure doing business with you spectre, or should I say the new king of hell?
//The reaper rises from his seat, tossing his hand in the center of the table before turning away to leave//
Grim: Yeah yeah, new titles aside I don't plan on out wearing my welcome in this off brand vegas-//the small sound of metal clicking against metal could be heard from behind the reaper, he turns to find Lucifer aiming a silver revolver at his head.// Oh, what now?
Lucifer: Well if blackjack didn't work out, I was hoping to get into a little game of charades, pay homage to your little sinner friend up there. But if it's all the same to you, I'd rather go out with a bang! //He places the gun under his chin and fires//
YOU BEAT THE DEVIL IN A GAME OF BLACKJACK! GO TO [[Ending #3]]
//Dark oak wood planks decorates the interior of the bar along with several small round tables. The white noise of several conversations going on at once fills your ears as you shuffle through the bodies of lively fatastical creatures of the underworld, keeping an eye on the reaper's cloak as a guide through this uncanny place. At the table in front of you a wolfman sits with what appears to be a living headless corpse, a large bottle of vodka and shot glasses seperating the two.//
Grim: WHAT'S GOING ON YOU GOBLINS, GHOULS, AND DRUNKEN FOOLS?
Wendel: Hey, hey! Well if it isn't the drunken spectre himself?
Hank: Good to see ya buddy!
Grim: Hey kid, come meet my crew, the furball is [[Wendel]], and the guy with his head missing is [[Hank]], Im gonna get a drink but as far as you're concerned, I'm not here. //Smoldering coals kiss the reaper's skeletal feet as he steps out of a portal and on to a high ledge to see all nine circles from a breathtaking distance. Dispite this place being one of the most dreaded realms known to man, with all of its individual horrors and apocolyptic demeanor, he almost felt guilty calling this place beautiful. Then again, God himself made this very world so maybe, just maybe, he'd be right for thinking such a thing.//
Lucifer: Every so often I come here just to see my realm in all of it's twisted glory. Like a proud papa watching his kiddo get back on his bike, I can't help but give myself a pat on the back for producing such an efficient playground of pandemonium! Of couse, I can't suck up all the credit, The big man built the blocks and I ran the shithow! To this day I find it hard to believe that he actually built this place! The God whose supposedly all about love, righteousness, grace and peace, wakes up one day to craft a realm filled to the brim with relentless torture and suffering, who would've guessed? //As the devil rambles on, the reaper stares deep into the nine burning spirals. The sparks in his pupils turn golden, hearing the horrid shrieks and screams of over a billion damned souls. Mothers, fathers, daughters, sons, all burning for one's lesiure, and what kind of man was he to sit back and listen to their anguished cries?//
Grim: Take me back.
Lucifer: What ever do you mean? //The Reaper grips Lucifer by the throat, swinging him over the ledge; the green spark of cold rage returning in his eyes.//
Grim: Take. Me. Back. Now.
Lucifer: Oh, simmer down you ol' grouchy bag of bones beneath the vengance-for-the damned act, I know your dirty little secret, the sick [[twisted truth]] you bury deep inside your cold, dead soul.
//Thick long chains conjure around Lucifer's neck, the green fire engulfs the entirety of the reaper's pale skull.//
Grim: The hell are you talking about?
Lucifer: You're not exactly all frowns when you throw some poor bastard down into the fire, there's a small smug grin that seeps through the cracks each and every time their screams blend with the roaring inferno. I mean what's not to smile about? A cruel waste of flesh is finally getting their comeuppance! Justice prevails! But your not in it for the divine justice as God intended are you? Oh no, it's a thrill ride for you. The instant gratification of knowing they'll burn forever just perks you right up doesn't it? so much so that you do it again and again.
Grim: Shut up.
Lucifer: Haha! Well you're not exactly denying it! But for the sake of argument, let's say I'm talking nonesense. Where in the nine hells are you going to send me plumeting? Lust? Greed? Wrath? Gluttony? Or maybe I'll end up right back here to watch my point prove itself in spectacular fashion.
Grim: I should kill you. Watch you burn. Watch you die.
Lucifer: Just couldn't bare to hide it anymore, could we? Go on, do it! Take my place as Hell's new master!
Grim: What?
Lucifer: Don't pretend your not fit for the role! The anger, the hate, what a perfect brew for a demon king!
Grim: Fine. If it's a king you want, then you've got it. I'll run this place as God intended, better than you ever could. No over the top grusome bullshit. The punishment will 100% fit the crime any hint of a grey area and they get sent right back up to purgatory, limbo at the very least.
Lucifer: N-no! you can't do this to me! I run this place with drive! With passion! Without this place I'll starve! I NEEEEED IIIIT!!!! PLEEEEASSSE!
Grim: God did make a mistake, He gave a six pack of beer to an alcholholic. Lucky for you, I drink responsibly.
//The reaper hurls Lucifer over the ledge, his screams echo all throughout the firey abyss. As he pops the cap off of his beer he notices the chain go taut looking down to find the third circle breifly flare up.//
Grim: Huh, poor bastard landed in guttony, poetic considering he bit off more than he could chew. Hell's under new management, asshole.
ALL HAIL HELL'S NEW RULER! Go to [[Ending #3]] // The scent of batter and frying oil fill your nostrills as you make your way to your own front door. from its small window you could see them all: Your mother adorned with her signature red apron with white polka dots, Your still wearing the ring you proposed to her with, your best friend who stuck it out with you during those all-nighters in college. There they all were as if you never left. It almost feels as though opening the door would shatter this reality. Your father stands there to quell your hesitation, holding your hand as you twist the doorknob.//
Dad: Hey everyone look who finally decided to come home from the office! //Your mother is the first to wrap you in her arms, you catch a whiff of pie off of her fingers as you relish in her warm embrace. Next is your wife, her diamond ring digs into your back as she pulls you in close for a kiss. The satisfying claps of your friend's hand with yours fills you with joy as you bring him in for a hug.//
Mom: alright the food's gettin' cold let's sit down to eat! //You take a seat next to your wife as you brandish your steel utensills.//
Dad: So tell us about this novel your writing! You worked out a plot yet?
Friend: Ooh another one, huh? Let's hope he stays commited this time! // the room erupts with laughter, their chuckles ridden with harsh insincerity.//
Wife: Please what does he know about committment? 9 weeks pregnant and he decides to jump ship! //More laughter errupts from your family and friends, growing louder as it drowns out your attemps of objection.//
Dad: If I knew my own son would grow up to be not only a failed writer but a coward I'd jump ship too! //The laughter nearly deafens you as you agressively hold your head in your hands. they all begin to chant.//
All: WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN.
Soul: [[stop it]]....
All:WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN.
Soul: [[Stop it!]]
All: WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN. WEAK. USELESS. COWARD. SELFISH. LOVELESS. BURDEN.
Soul: [[STOOOOOOOOOP!!!!!!!!]]
//The room falls deathly silent, hearing nothing but you own heavy sobs Your "family" stands frozen, hideous gaping grins eternally plastered on their faces. The front door slowly creaks open to reveal a man in a dark suit. He cautiously approaches waiting a few minutes before placing hand on your shoulder.//
???: I know what it's like, to be cast out and ridiculed just for being you. But hey, who needs 'em? I've got a better deal for you, miles better then mama's half-baked meal chock full of lies anyway.
Soul: Wh-who are you.....?
???: Who I am hardly matters, but what I can give? There's the real prize money. Imagine a world where you never know disrespect. Your books are on every shelf and those who do manage to slander your name are subjected to the wrath of God! God being you of course. Or I could unpause the laugh track and you'll be mentally and verbally tortured by your dearest family and friends. Something tells me your smarter than that though but I had to ask.
Soul: To be a God...
???: That's the spirit! I can smell your godhood from here! Well? What are you waitnig for? Take your vengance boy!
Soul: It's you.....It was always you! You're-
Lucifer: In the flesh! Now about that boo-//Lucifer is cut off by a sudden left hook to his jaw. several blows collide with is face as you land blow after blow, the floor around you turning redder as unleash a flurry of unbridled rage filled punches.//
THE DEVIL'S DOWN FOR THE COUNT!!! Go to [[Ending #4]]