Paine's Guide to Hell

Chapter 1

Gah, another story. This wouldn't leave me alone, so here goes nothing. Please remember to vote/comment if you like it. :)

Chapter 1

  “Doctor, the patient is loosing blood too quickly!”

  “C’mon, boy, wake up…”

  “…might not make it…”

  “…I’m sorry, but…”

  “…”

  “He’s dead.”

~X~

   He was falling.

   Paine awoke to the odd sensation of open air at his back, providing no help in slowing his descent. The wind generated by his body’s movement whistled relentlessly past his ear, plucking at the boy’s dark hair and whipping it into his face. His eyes snapped open reflexively, but were only greeted by a thick, seemingly-endless darkness.

   He immediately began to rack his brain for any rational explanation for the current situation, but the thoughts were sluggish and reluctant to come together. When further efforts proved useless, he quickly abandoned the task in favor of turning his attention to the darkness around him. With some effort, Paine turned his head to the left, eyes darting about in search of something – anything – other than this constant blackness, but to no avail.

   Just as he was moving to look in the opposite direction, a deep voice echoed out of the space around him, sending harsh shivers of inexplicable terror through his body.

   “Client number 712,” it boomed, resounding in his ears at a level that was almost painful. “Paine Moore.”

   The quiet that followed this announcement was deafening; so much so that he almost felt as though it would crush him if not broken.

   “Y-yes,” he murmured shakily. With a grimace at the near-inaudible words, he took a deep breath and tried again, this time louder. “Yeah, that’s me!”

    For a moment, silence reigned. Then the voice sounded again, tone monotonous and robotic:

  “The defendant’s identity has been confirmed. Let the trial begin.”

   Defendant? Trial? Paine tensed, a strong sense of foreboding washing over him as the rush of air began to slow dramatically. His arms flailed a few times at the abrupt change, gaze shooting back over his shoulder.

   He was quickly approaching what appeared to be a circle made up of checkered red and black squares. As it drew closer, the boy realized with a sinking feeling that the circle was indeed a platform or floor of some sort, and the checkered squares, tiles. An image of his own body, bloodied and broken by the fall, flashed through his mind, and he did the only thing he could: brace himself for impact.

   Paine had never been a religious person, but as he hurtled downwards like a stone, he allowed himself a small moment of weakness. Closing his eyes, he whispered a quiet prayer, silently hoping that if some greater power was indeed out there, it would have mercy and listen. Through the wind pulsing in his ears, he could have sworn he heard a giggle, and a single statement that chilled him to the bone.

   “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.”

   Barely a foot above the ground, his rapid descent was halted by what seemed to be some powerful gust of air coming up from the tiles themselves. A bead of cool sweat slid down his temple, and the only sound was that of his labored breathing. Paine blinked once, and the spell was broken. He fell to the ground, stunned but safe. For a long moment, he simply remained where he lay, allowing his frantic heartbeat to calm and his breathing to stabilize.

   At length, the boy reluctantly began to sit up, gaze moving to scan the room around him. Three of the four walls were bathed in deep shadow, with the only light seeming to originate from a lamp on the wooden dais directly in front of him. He was sprawled on his back before the towering structure, just barely able to make out a figure standing at the center. A podium obscured much of the person’s body, though Paine could clearly make out a judge’s gavel in one hand, and a large book that lay open on the stand. He gulped in consternation when a smirk broke out on the other’s face, clearly visible despite the wide-brimmed hat that hid their eyes.

   “Client 712: Paine Moore,” the figure repeated calmly, grin widening. “Welcome to Hell. Your trial begins now.”