Hell'O'Seers - Revamped

1: Beacon of Light in the Darkness

Complete darkness enveloped the body, a sensation of power, of being submerged in an abyss. A voice echoed from within, cold and monotone, "Wake up. There is more."

A few blinks revealed a dim, blurry hallway stretching endlessly ahead, tight and claustrophobic. Rubbing the eyes sharpened the vision. The corridor was lined with dark gray bricks, symmetrically arranged, matching the slate pavement that led forward into the faint red glow at its distant end. Glancing back only revealed a wall, so dark it felt like an endless void, yet solid and cold to the touch. A second voice drifted into the mind, playful this time, a woman's teasing tone, "The only way is forward~."

With no other choice, the path ahead became the focus. The red glow grew larger with each slow step, but every movement felt wrong, as if wading through water despite the air being still and empty. As the end of the corridor approached, the light grew brighter not blinding, but enough to reveal the details of a room beyond.

It was a room. The faint outline of a hanging lamp came into focus, a dull red flare illuminating the space below it. Beneath the lamp, a desk, sleek and empty, with a single chair in front. Behind the desk sat a figure, dark as night despite sitting in the light. The more the eyes adjusted, the more the scene came into view. The furniture was made of polished ebony wood, glistening slightly under the light, and the room's walls were draped in thick stripes of deep red and black wallpaper. The floor, rough with red carpeting, seemed to pulse underfoot, while the ceiling resembled a starless night sky.

The light hung from a single cord that stretched endlessly into the void above, a simple red bulb glowing ominously. On the walls, nine frames held strange, shifting symbols in deep red hues, arranged three to a side. Staring too long at the symbols caused a wave of dizziness, like the ground itself was tilting beneath them. But one of the frames seventh from the left seemed different. The symbols, though pulsating, began to form a word: "Violence."

The room was silent, eerily so, until a cold, mechanical voice cut through the stillness like a blade through flesh.

"Ah, you are finally here. Welcome. Take a seat, and let's get this over with."

Startled, a glance revealed a man standing at the entrance to the hallway, blocking the path back. He was no longer seated at the desk. His arms crossed, he stood tall, dressed in a sharp, form-fitting black suit, with polished black shoes and a red button-down shirt accented by a metallic red bow tie. His pale skin, almost ghostly white, contrasted with his short, unshaven blonde beard and the thick waves of hair styled neatly to the side. His piercing blue eyes, ringed with black, narrowed with an intensity that sent a shiver down the spine.

"My, my," the man mused, his voice calm but unnerving. "Not many mortals summon me this way. You're quite... exquisite. I'll give you that."

He gestured casually toward the chair in front of the desk. "Don't make me repeat myself."

His tone shifted, the calmness now edged with a simmering anger. The suited figure moved to the side of the desk, and as he extended his hand over it, flames erupted from his palm, twisting and writhing in his grasp. In a smooth motion, he turned his hand upward, the fire intensifying until it obscured his hand entirely. And then, just as quickly as it had appeared, the flame vanished, leaving behind a small, upside-down pyramid resting in his palm, its nine layers glowing in different colors.

With a deliberate movement, he placed the pyramid in the center of the desk.

"My name is Sullivan," he announced, his voice cold, "and I'm the seventh overseer. Normally, I wouldn't even allow a mortal to witness my presence, but you... you haven't been assigned yet. Lucky me, I suppose."

He chuckled, but there was no warmth in it, only an edge of something darker. "You know what this is about. Nine layers, nine overseers, nine ways for your never-ending torment. So, let's get this over with. I have other souls to attend to."

With a snap of his fingers, the first portrait on the wall shifted, its symbols swirling until they spelled out a single word: "Limbo."

"We have Limbo, Lust, Gluttony, Avarice, Wrath, Heresy, Violence, Fraud, and Treachery." Sullivan listed them off as if he had done so countless times before. "The names are self-explanatory. You might think your life would place you in one, but here's the catch: you can choose. Unless..."

His eyes gleamed with wicked delight. "Unless you were particularly devoted to one sin then someone like me can... intervene."

As he spoke, two slanted black horns began to sprout from his head, slowly curving upward. His grin widened, a dark and gleeful malice radiating from his words.

"You're mine."

The room erupted in flames, the wallpaper melting away, furniture crumbling into ash. The red lamp swung wildly as the entire space began to quake. A force, invisible but undeniable, lifted the body upward toward the burning ceiling, stopping just short of the flames licking at the air. The sensation of falling, of being dragged into something far worse than fire, overwhelmed every sense. Yet, Sullivan stood unmoved, the floor beneath him untouched by the chaos, the red carpet somehow unscathed.

The shaking subsided, and the flames began to recede. The only thing that had changed was the exit. The hallway no longer led to where it had before. It now opened into something else entirely.

Sullivan straightened his bow tie and smiled. "Ahh, no place like home. You won't last five minutes here, but... good luck. Sadly, I can't stay to watch." He winked. "I have a meeting to attend."

With a final wave, he turned and marched out of the room, leaving behind the suffocating heat of the "hellevator."