With shaking hands he carved the damned name into the stone, hatred burning as bright as the smouldering fire. He stepped back two see the name among hundreds of others.

Drago bludvist

He couldn't help it. Ever since he found out it ate away at his resistance. But now he'd done it but now he couldn't believe it.

Was he really so bent on revenge that he'd be willing to send someone to hel?

Nevertheless, he killed his father, he destroyed the village and broke the love of his life – why should he have to feel guilty?

A low rumble brought his attention to the night fury waiting at the mouth of cave. The dragon growled and crouched, snarling at the red glow growing deeper into the cave.

It must be him.

He slowly crept towards the dim glow and came to see a girl in a red traditional Viking dress and her black hair tumbling past her shoulders. Her red eyes unemotional and fixed on the chief.

"Are you- the the Hel Correspondence?"

"Of course. You summoned me." She paused. "Didn't you?"

"Y-yes I did. Can you help me?"

"I am Didrika Ragnadottir, ferryman to the inferno, Hel Girl. I've come to seek vengeance on your behalf. Your bitterness I will dispel." She said. Hiccup shifted uncomfortably under her red gaze.

"Er... what do I do about... Drago?" she reached into her bag and brought out something.

"For me to help you, all you must do is take this." She handed him a simple straw doll with a red string tied around its neck.

"If you truly wish to eliminate your antagonist, you must untie the red string." He examined it, stopping himself from pulling at it right away.

"If you remove the string, you will officially enter into a contract with me. To the one you seek revenge upon, I will appear and ferry to hel."

He gripped the doll tighter.

"However, if I deliver your revenge, I must have you make restitution to me." She continued.

"Restitution?"

"When one person is cursed, two graves are dug. When you die, your soul shall fall into the pit of hel."

"What?!"

The space seemed to spin. He would go to hell. Was it really worth it?

"Your spirit shall wander forever in pain and suffering, never having known Valhalla." She grinned.

"Well that's after you die. The rest is for you to decide."

'But why-" He paused when he realized no one was there. The red glow had gone and he was standing alone with the doll crushed in his palm. He hurried back to toothless and stuffed the doll in his satchel.

He'd have to think about it. Bounding into the sky hiccup flew away from Dragon Island, his meeting with the mysterious hel girl playing over and over again.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He sat on the cliff staring into the horizon.

"Hiccup?" came a voice. Astrid sat beside him. Hiccup stayed silent.

"Is it true?"

"Yeah. The doll's in my satchel." She made him look at her, tears shining in her eyes.

"Please don't do it. It's not worth paying the price."

"Astrid, he killed my father, he let those men... hurt you, and he destroyed all we've ever worked for. I can't let him get away with this." She didn't know what to say.

"I'm so sorry. But I have to do this. It's the only way he'll ever get what he deserves." astrid said nothing only taking his hand in hers.

"If you untie the string... then let- let me go with you."

"What?! Astrid no. You've done nothing wrong."

"What's the point of going to Valhalla if I know I'll never see you again?"

"You'll be safe and happy."

"I'll miss you. Hiccup, this is your body and soul we're talking about!"

'I know. But doesn't he deserve to be punished Astrid?'

"Not like this!" the chief sighed.

"I'll think about it." Really, all he could do was think.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

That night he lay in his bed and thought of the first time he heard of the hell correspondence.

It was only a week following the destruction of berk and the crowning of a new chief. Construction was back breaking work and the Vikings laboured long into the night. There were no dragon races, the riders were shaken and thrown by the recent events. Hiccup was swamped with work and Astrid never spoke to anyone now. The twins' zippleback reacted badly to the overdose of tranquiliser shot by the dragon trappers, and were constantly under observation. Meatlug had broken several bones and hookfang's snout was crushed under the pressure of Drago's boot. They kept to themselves, socializing only when they had to. People noticed these changes, they were no longer the lively teens they once were. The were different, their spirits extinguished and their hearts broken knowing things would never be the same.

One person had caused all of this.

The chief of the Meathead clan and some of his lieutenants were coming to visit for a trade. The ships Meatheads sailed in from the horizon, the first of them already docking and unloading. Several teenage Vikings landed on deck laughing and goofing around.

I wonder.

Hiccup sat on the cliff overlooking the commotion, a stack of papers weighted under a rock beside him. An unsuspecting Viking wouldn't realize he was there if he didn't look up. The chief's boat was one of the last sailing in. He would go down to meet him when it docked.

"Did you hear about the Stoick's death?" said one of the boys.

"I heard his son's own dragon killed him."

Typical meathead.

'Lucky for Drago hiccup doesn't know about the hell correspondence.

?

"Er..."

"The Elders in the village say that you can summon the ferryman to hell and wreak revenge on the one that causes you pain by scratching their name into cooled lava stone."

Really?

"Please! That's just a legend. And anyway, even if it was real I heard you always end up dead."

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you. Drago better watch out. With a guy with a night fury he won't get very far."

"what did he do?"

"Don't you remember? He told the Bewilderbeast to controls the night fury, and then made it kill Stoick."

He'd thought it was crazy; Just ramblings of immature teens. But then it began to weigh down on his mind, until it was the only thing he thought about. His conscience told him he wasn't that sort of person, his brain told him it was impossible. Stupid. But his logic told him:

He deserved it.

That same night he slipped out the window on the back of his dragon and flew off for Dragon Island. After circling the island he found the crater in the mountain. The very wall the red death burst through five years ago. Only a gargantuan carcass remained, picked clean by scavengers.

Flying through the hole he used the lamp against the wall until he found a ledge far into the mountain, the unfortunate names nicked into stone played shadows on the rock face...

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He pulled the straw doll from under his bed and took hold of the red string.

He pulled it.

The room became cold as a rush of wind whipped the string and the doll out of his hands he watched as it dissolved into nothingness.