Burnt Bridges

1- Hell's residents

RATED

"I said... wake the hell, UP!"

The piecing shoat seemed to slowly echo through my skull as I slowly awoke from my slumber. I first regained my sense of weight which seemed to quickly lower as my sense of touch returned as I ploughed through what I believe to be the stone wall of my bedroom. I opened my eyes just in time to see the black dust covered ground inches from my falling face. My body tumbled as my reflexes slowly kicked in bring my rag dolled body to my freshly woken feet.

To anyone else this might seem odd, a 16 year old in a grey shirt and a jeans covered in soot barely able stand after being flung 15 feet from a hole in a small 4 room apartment, but when you consider the more defined factors it's the most normal thing here in Hell, the hollowed gap lying kilometres below the surface. The place is like a never ending cavern, void of the suns natural light and filled to the brim with things ready to kill you if you get to close, its dark, hot and crawling with small patches of cannibalistic humans. But really none of that is my concern right now.

I stood up straight and dusted some soot of my grey shirt and black jeans before beginning my slow walk back to my room. A single claim echoed in my head, "Sting you got until I reach that room."

A snow white figure poked its head out from the hole.

"Oh Rated you're up, finally, now you see we got to get going," He chuckled.

...

"Hay you going to say something bro?" he stuttered.

"Sting," I leaned into his face and grinned at him widely.

"Yes," he stumbled backwards.

"It's about time you stop breathing."

...

"So" I asked while putting on my jacket, "mind telling me why today's so important?"

"You forgot didn't you?" Sting groaned.

"If I was listening to you don't you think I would have stopped kicking your ass," I remarked.

"Guess that makes some sense. Well today's the fifth, Blacks eighteenth birthday and also the day we get our memories back from... Tartarus," Sting answered.

"Really that was fast, to think it's been that long already," I sat down on my bed and grabbed the closest pair of shoes, a black sneakers with a purple spiked design. Sting standing leaned against the bed room door, really the only place in the room without a pile of something on the floor.

"It's been some years but the real wonder I'm having is why."

"Why what?" I stood up

"Why was so much taken from us, I'm shore this isn't even my real name 'Sting', it sounds so off, even you got to admit Something's off about this whole thing and today's the day we find out I'm shore," Sting ranted.

"Brother I'll have whatever you're drinking," I joked.

"No man I'm serious something's up with this Tartarus person," Sting pondered.

"Man calm down the only thing wrong with dad was adopting a conspiracy theorist for his third son, now come on I'm tired and now where wasting time. Where to?" I asked.

"We need to get black's before we head down," Sting sighed.

"And he is where Sting?"

"Private study," Sting replied.

"God damn it, well let's get a move on," I walked outside the room to be greeted by a hole where my door was suppose to be. I dropped my house keys and proceed to walk through the hole before turning my head to see Sting miming to close the door.