COMPLETED Jeremy is the typical good kid who doesn't have a single bad bone in his body. So when he suddenly dies at the hands of another, it's a surprise when he wakes up in Hell. Now, Jeremy must plead to the creatures of Hell that he is as innoce...
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Jeremy's head was pounding as he woke up. The first thing he noticed was the heat. Sweat was pouring out of him as he looked around in his confused state and saw that he was in a fairly large room with chairs lining up against every wall. Screams were heard from everywhere in the room as hundreds of people were screaming out their innocence. Jeremy's headache worsened from the loud noise as he suddenly remembered how he ended up there.
In the room with The Deciders, he had gotten sucked into the ground. It would most likely take a while before he'd forget the pitch-black darkness that surrounded him while dirt was suffocating him and going into his mouth as he screamed and cried.
Looking down at himself, he noticed that he was covered in dirt and mud. Slowly he rose from the ground and took in the room once more. People were rushing by him, completely ignoring his existence as multiple people bumped into him as if he wasn't even there. Quickly he trotted over to a wall to avoid people but he ended up stepping on something, and as he looked down, he noticed that it was in fact a tail. Dumbfounded, Jeremy didn't move but simply stared at it in awe. "Get off my tail or I'll kill you, you bloody buffoon!" Jeremy's eyes snapped up to see a man who appeared to be in his late twenties with horns in his forehead and two small wings on his back that were fluttering in irritation.
The young boy quickly stepped off the man's tail and mumbled out a sorry. The man looked murderous but huffed and walked away, despite wanting to rip the kid apart, but the last thing he needed was an added sentence in Hell.
Jeremy's heart was pounding and as he looked around, he noticed multiple desks lined up at the end of the room with demon-like creatures talking to a long line of people. Slowly, he walked up to a nicer looking woman who was standing in the line. "Excuse me?" He asked but it came out as a whisper, and due to being an introvert, she didn't hear him or even glance his way.
With a shaky hand Jeremy reached up at poked her shoulder. She whipped around before he could even get a word out and grabbed his wrist in a tight grip. So much for looking nice, he thought.
"Don't touch me," she spat in his face. Jeremy grimaced. "S-sorry!" He stuttered. The woman looked him up and down before huffing. It was clear as day that Jeremy didn't belong in Hell, but who was she to know what he had done. "What do you want?" He took a deep breath before speaking to avoid stuttering. It didn't help and the woman looked inferior to the boy. "W-what's going on? Why is there a l-line?"
She rolled her eyes and ignored his questions, "What are you here for?" The way she spoke made it sound like an inmate asking the newest prisoner what he'd done to wound up in jail, but this place didn't feel like a prison. It was more like a hotel lobby with waiting music playing in the background, getting drowned out by the crowds of people yelling on top of each other.
"What do you mean? I haven't done anything!" Jeremy pleaded as if she'd help him if only she understood his situation. However, Jeremy hadn't fully realised that he was, in fact, in Hell, and everybody who goes to Hell, deserves it. This meant that the woman was enjoying the boy's despair, almost feeding off of it.
The woman tried to smile sweetly at him but it appeared as a creepy grin. "Stay with me, yeah? I'll help you out," she promised, but Jeremy didn't feel comforted by her anymore, and realised she was stilling holding onto his wrist. He yanked his wrist out of her hold and she looked at him in mild astonishment. "No, I'm fine. I'll figure it out," he mumbled and quickly walked away from her. He followed the mass of people to the end of the line and as he looked up, he realised it would take hours before it was his turn, but going to have a sit in the chairs lined up at the walls would mean leaving the line, and he really wanted to know what was going on, and get out of the humid and hot room.
As Jeremy waited, his mind began drifting to his family. Did they know he was dead? Was he even dead? The last time he checked, he was still living, breathing and owning a body. Slowly he raised his hand to cover his heart.
Thump, thump, thump.
His heart was beating steadily but fast in his chest, and the boy sighed in relief. If his heart was beating, then we must still be alive, meaning it would be possible for him to go home and see his family again. He really missed them.
As the clock ticked by, Jeremy's feet began hurting as he shifted on his feet. It felt like hours before he finally made it to the front desk but he knew— from the clock on the wall— that it had only been two hours. He didn't really know if the time passed differently here, or if he was just struggling in the heat and new environment. In general, Hell hadn't been what he expected at all— the place reminded him more of a hotel lobby overflowing with people and a scorching heat.
"Name," a woman's voice said. Jeremy snapped out of his thoughts and stared at a woman sitting behind a desk with a computer. "Uh, Jeremiah Walker," he said and, with a second thought, added, "Ma'am."
She only grunted in reply and began typing in her computer, glancing up at him every few moments. "It says here you committed murder," her eyes narrowed as she looked at him from head to toe. "Did someone steal your cereal so you threw a hissy fit, child?" She grinned at the idea, "You don't look like the type to commit murder, but murder is murder no matter how you did it— and before we continue, I must say kudos to you, I'm rather impressed," She interrupted herself, and Jeremy stood dumbstruck in front of her, struggling to get words out of his mouth. "Anyway, you'll be charged for the highest human punishment there is. You'll be receiving a personal torture chamber where you'll be facing your worst fears, good?"
Jeremy gabbed at her, "No! Not good! I want to go home, I don't belong here and I didn't murder anybody!" The woman simply rolled her eyes at him, seemingly in thought, "That's what they all say." Jeremy's outburst had gathered the attention of numeral demons around him as they all started flocking him. He took a step back but was immediately stopped by the desk, resulting in him getting cornered. "You smell weird," one of the demons said, and he could vaguely see the woman behind the desk nodding in agreement. Jeremy frowned, his heart rate picking up— of course he smelled weird, he had died for crying out loud. "S-stop," he weakly uttered at them as they continued closing in on him, revelling in his fear as if it was the last food on Earth. The front desk lady picked up a phone and the boy barely heard her speak into it, "Summon Abigor, we've got a situation."
A demon closed in on Jeremy and inhaled deeply in his neck. When he exhaled, his eyes seemed different— darker somehow— and licked the air as if trying to taste him. "Interesting."
"Step away from the boy now," a deep male voice said. Jeremy jumped in surprise and relief when the demon quickly scattered away. The boy's eyes quickly found a handsome man in leather pants with no shirt on; his hair was short and as dark as his eyes. Jeremy's neck craned at he looked up at him when he approached. The woman was about to explain the situation, but he held a hand up to silence her. He inhaled deeply but in a more subtle way than the demon had, much to Jeremy's relief. It wasn't everyday he had people sniffing him like dogs sniffing their butts.
"Summon Lucifer," he demanded.
The woman shook slightly. "Are you sure? You know he doesn't like to be disturbed..." She trailed off when she saw his furious face, and Jeremy felt himself take a subconscious step back, but the man grabbed his arm tightly in the flash of the eye. "Remember your place, demon," he spat.
"S-sorry, Abigor, I mean sir," her voice shook as she picked up the phone and dialled for the devil.
