Hell for the Undertaker
Ch. 1: Where the Hell Am I?
"Mark, just 'cuz you're the Deadman, doesn't mean that you could last a day in hell," Paul told Mark at the bar they were currently sitting at.
Mark took a sip of his Jack Daniels before replying, "Hell yes it does! No pun intended. I'm a tough guy. Hell, I bet I could kick the devil's ass any day."
"One day, you might just go there and find out it's much different than you think and you might not be able to handle it," Paul sighed.
Mark growled, "What do you know?" and went back to his drink.
After a few bottles of Jack Daniels (and a couple of shots of vodka) Mark stumbled into his hotel room and passed out on the bed as soon as he hit it.
A light hit Mark's eyes and he groaned, not wanting to wake up and face his hangover. He tried rolling over to escape the light, but it seemed to follow him. He groaned again and slowly opened his eyes, bracing himself for the hangover that he was sure was on its way.
After a few minutes of staring at the ceiling, he still felt nothing. No headache, no need to empty out the contents of his stomach, nothing.
He just laid there, pondering whether or not last night was a dream. He remembered getting drunk and scrambling into bed. In fact, he was still in the clothes that he wore last night. If he were sober, he would've changed.
Maybe he took a pill or something to prevent hangovers? Nah, those weren't even invented yet…. So, what was it…..
Mark scratched his head and sat up slowly. He looked around and realized he wasn't in his hotel room anymore. Thinking this was strange, he looked around until he found the bathroom. He climbed into the shower and thought things over.
When he got out of the shower, he thought momentarily about what he would wear, but he shrugged it off, thinking that he'd just wear the same outfit as yesterday.
He wrapped a towel around his waist and walked out of the bathroom, relishing in the cool breeze that hit him as the steam poured out of the room. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a girl of about 14 sitting on his bed reading his journal.
"Hey! That's private!" he exclaimed, making a grab for the book only to have her jump out of the way.
He landed on the bed with a soft thud and glared at the girl, who just decided that she had read enough and tucked the book in her pocket.
He growled at her, "Who the hell are you and why are you in my room?"
She smirked at him and said, "The name's Roxy, and I'm your guide to Hell."
The last thing he remembered was the urge to strangle this girl first and ask questions later.
Well, I know this is gonna be an odd fic already. Please bear with me my honorable readers. I promise to update my other stories if you review!!