Homoween 2019: Hollywood Coven

Day 25: Drag Me to Hell

They fell for a long time. Long enough for Derek to cling to Luke. Which was good because when they dropped into whatever stunt mattress was put at the bottom of the fall, Luke could've easily broken in half. There was already a hard, sickening crunch and Derek howled in pain. Luke knew he'd heal but stayed close anyways, not knowing what moving away might bring. 

The darkness here was suffocating and the air was musty, as though it either couldn't or wouldn't moved. Was it trapped with them? What kind of danger had they found now?

"Hello?" Luke's voice echoed. No response. The echo seemed trapped until it finally began to dissipate and to die away.

Derek's bones began to snap and jostle back into place and he whined and bit down on his tongue in pain. He spit out the little bit of were blood. It wasn't good for eating and he and Luke both knew that. Healing blood was not even the junk food of the supernatural world. And there was nothing more sinful than drinking from a wounded were.

"We know you're there! Reveal yourself!"

Echoes again but instead of dissipating they became more high pitched. 

"Bad magic-" Derek gasped, so low as that Luke almost didn't hear. He could feel it on his skin the same way that Derek could probably smell it. He nodded though he knew Derek wouldn't be able to see the nod. It seemed as though they had gone wherever light went to die. He only knew Derek was still there because of the near permanent touch between the two.

He waited to speak again, challenging the darkness to reveal itself. 

A light. A brief glimpse of light. Something falling, floating down. Bits of orange and yellow paper, old burnt parchment. Bits of old spell books. 

Luke didn't touch them and just let them fall to the floor.

Reveal your self. 

Stupid vampire hero.

"Kill us already if that's your plan!" Luke shouted into the darkness, nearly growling.

More notes from above, more old nearly blackened parchment.

We know you are but what are we?

"Brimstone-" Derek said through hiccups of pain, but now spoken low enough as if to answer a question Luke had only thought. "Help me up, help me to stand up so my ankle fixes itself."

They struggled in the dark but rose to standing together. 

The blackness surrounding them replaced itself instantaneously by Dante's greatest hits. Magic hurricane like projections of fire and ice and sins, settling into fiery dragon's breaths that dissipated into a million oil soaked torches on the wall. 

Three thrones.

Oh great, Luke thought to himself. 

There was a slow clap as Justin materialized slowly, clap first and then clapping hands and then torso and then rest of him. Fading in as if a blurry photoshopped picture made clear and defined.

"Well congratulations on not being able to keep your fangs and paws to yourself. You know, ignorance really can be bliss- but I guess in your case it's not enough. Since you want to know everything- let's get to it before we kill you, shall we?"

"Yes. Get on with it!" Luke said angrily.

"Now, now. Don't get testy vamp. Or we'll do to you what we did to JR."

"Where's Channing?"

"Around. First, let's meet your judge, jury, and execution. First, the Father. You know him as Tom. We know him as Lucifer." The sound of applause echoed in the place by absent hands. It was a large chamber, Luke could tell, all in different tones of gray except for where the torches hit. Tom walked onto the stage of thrones in a cut black suit, looking tall and thin and all at once like Randall Flagg from a Stephen King novel. 

"Thomas?"

"I don't go by that name off set, Evans. But you'd know that if you ever returned my calls, hmm?" Tom/Lucifer asked as he sat down elegantly on his throne, crossing one leg over his thigh and bringing up a burning brimstone martini in his hand.

"And for the son. Oh, well another Luke. Our newest demon of darkness. The dear lover Lucifer himself-" Luke Cook seemed to rise out of the nothingness of concrete before his throne. Completely naked and hard with absolutely no modesty, he reclined across his throne as though he were draping a piano. A red substance seemed to drip off his body and erode a part of the gray stage as though it were limestone.

Tom reached over to give Luke/Lucifer's dick a tug. Brimstone erupted from it like pre-cum.

"Always a pleasure my friend." 

"Give it five minutes. You can pleasure me even more."

"That's wonderful," Justin intoned. "And finally- Lucy! That's right, co-dependent Lucifer from Supernatural, who you know as Mark! I think you- worked with him once, didn't you wolf?" Justin thought hard and then broke into a ghoulish grin as this idea pleased him. "Lucy!"

Nothing.

"Calling our Holy Spirit Lucifer to the stage!"

Justin burst into a tiny million pieces all at once. Not even a time for a glance or a scream. Lucy appeared from behind the pile that was still falling to ash. He looked down, interested.

"Oh, see. He ruined my moccasins." Lucy gave a wave before taking his throne in a comfortable manner. He wore a gray sweatshirt and jeans, looking like he'd stepped right out of a JC Penney catalog.

"You're-"

"That's right-"

"All three of you?"

"Funny thing," the Lucifers said, speaking at once. "Part of taking the role of the devil is signing yourself over. Every joke, every moment of sympathy makes us stronger. Empathy for the devil will be humanity's undoing. But you know that now. And you cannot know that."

"But we're not human!"

"And I'm still hungry!" Lucy demanded. "Where is the pirate and the siren with my meal? I'm not eating our guests again!"