I don't know yet whoops

Chapter Three

AN: Hello hello if anyone has any ideas for a cover or a title please comment because I'm at a total loss lol. Ok thank you for reading etcetera etcetera ok bye

I wished a silent good luck to the guy behind me (who was attempting to take Cerberus the three-headed dog up into the human world), and followed Brendon and Marc through a series of slightly dingy tunnels. We passed the occasional demon or human. It took ages- in fact, it took such a long time that I began to question my own existence. What if all of this was just a dream? What if I was actually in a coma? What if I had eaten something terrible before I died and had an awful taste in my mouth FOREVER? Speaking of food, what's for lunch? I then remembered I was dead and couldn't actually feel hunger.

Finally, we came to a slightly dodgy-looking lift. Marc pushed the 'up' button, and after about fifteen minutes there was a 'ding!' and the doors creaked open. The three of us and the guy with Cerberus piled in. Man, that attendant gave even less of a shit than my English teacher. The lift started up, and thus began the fucking longest lift ride of my life. It took around an hour. Around fifteen minutes in, one of the Cerberus heads started licking Marc's face. When his face was apparently adequately clean, it lay on the floor and didn't move except to give a bored 'woof' or sniff the occasional crotch. All of this happened with sufficiently awkward elevator music playing in the background.

The lift finally stopped with another 'ding'. It had risen up into a large, mostly-dead field. It was completely deserted - there weren't even any animals. It was about eleven. I stepped out, and Cerberus nearly dislocated the poor owner's arm as he dashed off into the distance. Brendon stretched and sighed loudly. 

"I always hate that journey, it's so boring." Brendon stretched again. 

Marc rolled his eyes at him. "Let's get going, then."

Our plan was terrible, but at least it was something. Brendon had a GPS that he stole from a car a while back, so we just entered the address and set off. He had set the voice setting to Gordon Ramsay, so for about twenty minutes we endured 'YOU MISSED THE TURN YOU FUCKING DONKEY' and other delightful phrases.

Once we'd arrived at a largish farm (by some miracle it wasn't far from the field we started out at), Marc said he'd ended up in Hell for being gay, ace AND a thief. I mean, not as bad as me, but pretty impressive all the same. As Marc was exercising his skill in breaking and entering, I pondered that, provided Brendon was as nonstraight as I suspected, we were all LGBT as fuck. I wasn't stereotyping about Brendon, I actually thought he was straight at first (he was married to a chick before he died according to him) but he keeps an A3 poster of Zac Efron shirtless on his person constantly. He keeps it in the suit pocket. (It fell out once).

"You two, hurry the fuck up," whispered Marc hoarsely. I crept around the house looking for a closet or laundry room or something, and when I finally found one (it was like a bloody maze in that house, seriously) I stole a sheet from it.

We met up again outside the bedroom, where they appeared to be sleeping. All three of us crept in. I hid behind a convenient box. Marc hid behind a plant that was three feet shorter than him. Brendon stood by the bed and shook the woman awake.

"Lady. We're stealing your Jesus baby." Not the most elegant way to put it, but it got the job done. She started shrieking bloody murder. The man rolled over and groaned. 

"For Christ's sake, Sheila..." He then noticed Brendon and went into full exorcist mode. "Begone, foul creature! The power of Christ will rid you from this holy ground!" Etc, etc. Brendon eventually got bored and started looking at his nails. Marc shuffled out from behind the plant and said, in a completely monotone voice, "Shut up or we'll call the ghost." The woman, Sheila, started screaming even louder.  

"Oi, ghost. Hurry the fuck up."  I popped up from behind my box, covered in the sheet.

"oooOoooooooOOOOOOOOO you're not pregnant now....spoopy."

*       *      * 

Once we got back to Hell, Brendon and Marc went to a badly-put-together booth with a broken sign that said 'Joob Rewards'. Brendon handed over the sheet to the attendant behind the booth. 

"Well isn't that just fantastic! Way to go, guys, that's brilliant! I just need to check...yep, that's juuust great! Have a fabulous day!" Everything this guy said needed at least four exclamation points behind it, but what can I say, I'm lazy with punctuation. Fight me. 

He handed us three token-looking things, which I assumed were credits. Brendon's eyes sparked. Literally, sparks came out of his eyes. 

"Let's get cake."