Devil's Tango (Quackbur)

Chapter 11

Clay sobbed over his dead brother's body.
"Quackity! Alex! Come back to me, please!"
He slapped Quackity to try and wake him up, but Quackity's head simply lolled over to the side lifelessly.
Schlatt stood over him with a grim expression, the reality of what he'd done sinking in a little.
Clay stared up at him, tears dripping down his face. "What the hell? You just killed my fucking brother!"
Without warning, Clay got up and sucker-punched Schlatt, grabbing the gun from his hands and cocking it.
He pointed it straight at Schlatt's heart.
"You're gonna have to come with me."

Meanwhile, Wilbur was sobbing over Quackity's corpse. "Why?"
His eyes met Schlatt's. "You! I will never love you, you... you sick, twisted fuck. Burn in Hell. Because I'm making sure of it."
Schlatt's stomach gave an unpleasant lurch as Wilbur angrily disappeared in a burst of flames.

Quackity's POV

He opened his eyes.
It was hot here. And red. Very red.
He was still in the clothes he had been wearing when he got shot... and... wait, was he dead?
He looked down. Yep, there was the injury. His previously white shirt had been painted in an unpleasant dark red colour that Quackity was 99% sure was his own blood.
He poked himself in the injury. "Ow!"
Okay, so this obviously wasn't Heaven.

He looked around.
He was in a long line of mutilated people- some had gunshot wounds like himself, but some had stab wounds or bruises around their necks, which gave the immediate impression that all of these people were dead.
And Quackity was among them.
But they didn't seem dead- they were standing up, walking a little up the line every time someone was admitted. There was no familiar buzz of chatter that Quackity was so acquainted with when he'd been in especially long lines, though.
It was deathly silent.

Quackity seemed to be in some sort of entrance hall. The ceiling was cavernous and the whole place seemed to have been decorated by someone who really liked detail- there were carvings of various monsters and people, and the biggest statue was right in the middle, up against the left wall. His eyes slid over it, then immediately flicked back.
It was of Wilbur.

So this was Hell.

At the end of the hall, there was a burst of flames and Wilbur himself stepped out.
"Quackity!" he called, his eyes roving the long line of souls.
"I'm over here, Wil!" Quackity called out.
Wilbur immediately rushed over to him with an air of desperation.
"Oh my- Quackity! Are you alright?" he asked, pulling Quackity into a tight hug and giving him a small peck on the cheek.
"Yeah, Wil, I'm fine," Quackity said with a small smile. "I'm fine now you're here."
"Hey, look!"
"What?"
"You have horns."
Quackity was startled, and felt around his head. Two horns were poking out.
"I do," he said incredulously, smiling.
Wilbur smiled back. "You do! Now c'mon. You're gonna join me in the palace."

Wilbur slipped his hand into Quackity's as they walked straight past the line of departed souls. Some of the people in the line looked at Quackity with jealously etched onto their faces.
The receptionist for this line stopped Quackity briefly, but Wilbur said, "He's with me," and the receptionist let him through with a stammered apology as Wilbur chuckled.
Once they got through the entrance hall, they got into the main part of Hell.
Quackity's immediate reaction was, "Wow."

It was cleaner and nicer than Quackity had expected. Much redder, mind you, but nicer.
A river of a red liquid- not blood, it was too thin to be blood- was running through the land, and scarlet trees with crimson leaves were everywhere. Fire was also everywhere, but it surprisingly didn't hurt when Quackity accidentally put a hand in one of the many fires.
"This is..."
"Not what you'd expected?" Wilbur asked softly, laughing. "I get that a lot."
"Yeah, I- there's a lot less screaming people here than I expected." Quackity chuckled.