Casey McCloud Escapes from Hell

Episode III: The Slaying of Hans the Grabby

And that is how I lost my first tooth," Casey said.

"Sexy," Wilson replied.

It had been two days since Casey and Winston had left the Purity Pocket. Even though it was impossible to tell what constituted as a "day" or 'night" here in Hell. Casey had begun to count "night" and the times she was sleeping and "day" as the times she was awake. And, although she knew these things were uneven, it gave her some hope. As if having a sense of time pushed her forward, gave her a mission.

"Okay, which do you want to hear next: the time I broke my wrist or the time I punched a dude in the face?" Casey asked.

"Oh, the face one, definitely."

"Well, they're the same story." Casey said. Winston laughed.

"Okay hot stuff," the fly said suddenly. "We're almost there. Now, these guys are... difficult. They run most of the gang activity in Hell."

"There are gangs in Hell?" Casey stopped and leaned against a rock, closing her eyes and taking a small break. Winston landed on a rock next to her.

"Yeah, there's a few. They're pretty ruthless. But I know one of 'em personally. Saved him from The Swarm a while back. He owes me a favor."

There was a moment of silence, save for a sudden scream of agony that came from somewhere. The screams had become second-nature to Casey, even though she hated hearing them.

"Now listen, sweetheart," Winston continued. "This guy's name is Hans the Grabby. Don't call him anything except Hans. He's a demon, so he may try and eat you. If that happens, just back away slowly. Never try and outrun a demon. You'll get squished.  I'll do my best to keep 'im in line, but there's no guarantee. He races Hellhounds. There will be a race today. I'm going to have a quick chat with him, and if we get into any trouble, listen for my whistle and we'll high-tail it outta' there. Got it?"

Casey opened her eyes and stared at the fly. "Yup."

"Good." Winston's wings fluttered nervously.  "Let's go, pumpkin."

Over the hill, they found a large field. It was flat and dusty and filled with tons of interesting creatures. As they got closer, Casey saw a variety of strange organisms: imps (little green creatures with jagged teeth and creepy wings) and demons and werewolves and other nasty-looking monsters that Casey had never heard of before. But the thing that surprised Casey the most was the humans.

They were mostly male, and significantly older than she was, maybe in their forties. On Earth you may have seen folks like this at casinos or in back alleys, dealing strange things.

"Who are the humans?" Casey whispered to Winston, who was sitting on her ear.

"People who went to Hell, like you Sugarpie Honeybuns," Winston replied. "Thieves and gamblers, most likely."

All the people were standing in a sort large circle, and they were cheering and cheering. Casey shoved her way to the front and saw something that both terrified and astounded her.

They were like large wolves, huge and furry. Their eyes were red, their teeth jagged and dark. They ran at incredible speeds, their claws causing sparks to fly every time they hit the ground. Casey could almost feel their hot breath on her face. There were about six of them, in a line, charging.

"Hellhounds," Winston said. "Horses of the Underworld. Terrifying, aren't they?"

"I want one," Casey said feebly.

"Okay, let's go, sweet lips," Winston said. "Hans is up there. In the stands. See him?"

The track was surrounded by groups of people, but behind the people were large, wobbly, dangerous-looking bleachers, where the more important people sat. There was a huge seat, like a throne. And on that throne sat a demon with many hands.