Welcome friends to a very informative and agnostic quelled read. One usually ask on a daily basis, how does Satan find his demons? What are the qualifications? Most importantly, does it pay well? Let me start by saying, much like today's "degree is required" for everything, Hell is no exception. A four year program is required for F.A.C. or Fallen Angel Certification. Humans are chosen at random to partake in this curriculum, some do well and become the best sadist they can be! While others do not make the G.P.A. and D.I.E. Haha, Just kidding. People who fail don't die...They get tortured for all eternity! Still sounds better then dropping out of college with forty grand in loans...Anyways, i'll shed a little light on what the day to day life of an average student in H.H.S. is like. Hmm? What's H.H.S.? It's Hell High School of course.
The sun was doing its usual routine at 6:45 a.m. Crawling up the sky to kiss rays down upon Chris's sleeping face. Fucking sun, always starting shit when you are in the most comfortable position in bed, enjoying the best dream. This was how he interpreted it anyways. Yes, Chris was your typical seventeen year old fuck boy. Just shy of six feet with only one hundred and thirty pounds to carry around. Hair was a burnt umber hue, short, and drawn up at the front in a wave. To sum up, a long twig with pretty brown hair. Interest of our painfully basic protagonist run about the same as any white, teenage, middle class, male's. Video games, youtube channels that he makes references to and no one understands. A walking socially awkward, enxiety filled person that makes unhealthy amounts of pop culture jokes. Chris is not politically correct, being a white male of the heterosexual bracket, it's impossible to be so. All Tumblr viewers may now discontinue reading. There is a special place in hell for SJW. I would know, I am writing about hell and its basic autocracy under Satan. It isn't too bad. You basically sit in a room with Rush Limbaugh on twenty four seven. Then have to read a three hundred page book by the NRA defending the second amendment. Anyways, Chris woke and got dressed. Everyday a new shirt but his jeans are now on there fourth day. Jesus Chris, you gross smelly piece of black licorice your mom does the laundry, just add it to the basket you lazy fuck.
"Hey, mom wants us all to eat breakfast together. Hurry up."
That was Samantha, the sister. About two years younger then Chris. Standing in the doorway sporting off a tank top undershirt with a open neck overshirt yoga pants and moccasins. A very basic girl outfit for a very basic personality. Oh Sam, you are barely know now and will be forgot after your death.
"Why?" Chris asked.
It confused him because they never had family meals. The dinning table was for the cats to lay on and their fathers DD night.
She shrugged.
Both children had no clue why it wasn't going to be cereal or pop tarts before school. After getting dressed, Chris being the last to join family, sat down. In front of him was a plate covered in every spot with basic American breakfast food. Syrup was even pored out of the plastic bottle and into a gravy boat with steam rising to show it had been warmed up. Yes, this is the breakfast of announcing someone died or has cancer.
"Oh god, who died?" Chris asked sarcastically.
His mother got upset at the sarcasm and defended nonexistent family values. The confusion was finally quelled when the father held up his tablet like a gift bequeath by god. It was not legible from anyone at the table but a picture of Caesars palace at least gave a hint.
"I won a entry contest and we all get to go to vegas for three days!" The father announced.
He was so proud of pure luck. It was as if he truly believed it was a skill or trait of his that won the vacation. The mother clapped and both children remained unenthused. They just tossed out a bunch of excuses not to leave. Plans with friends, school, etc. Before you ask. No, this is not like the plot of National Lampoon's vacation series. No, the father does not look like Chevy Chase and yes, I love that movie. After a weak resistance as expected of millennials, everyone began to pack.
Chris was particularly upset because he was going to ask out Lail Lumatit. Now that's a name. Weird and kinda gives you a boner. If you are wondering how to pronounce 'Lail' Don't worry about it. You can say 'La eel' or 'Lay ill' I will be Tolkien about made up words and let the reader decide pronunciation. She was his crush for two years now. Playing the tenor saxophone in band was where they first met. He had spoken to her on rare occasions but made no moves. It's ok Chris, there are a million internet memes that explain you so well.
Packing three shirts and one pair of pants, Chris was ready to go. Yes, still doing the one pants for more then a day thing. putting everything in the car he noticed his sister had changed into a black and white short dress. She did a twirl and yelled, Vegas baby. Parents enjoyed her enthusiasm enough to ignore her risque dress.
"You look like a whoreo." Chris said as any good big brother would of his sister showing slut aesthetic.
She clicked her tongue and taunted him about who gets more action. Oh Sam, this is a sexist statement but arguing having more sex as a woman doesn't sound good. Chris just retorted with, if I was gay. I would get more dick then you. The two had this type of back and forth all the way up until they boarded the plane. Winning a drawing didn't mean you got seats next to each other in coach. This didn't really bother anyone though. If anything it was plesent.
"He can Putin that in me anytime." The short stumpy man sitting next to Chris mumbled. He was probably shy of five feet and wore a bright white and yellow Hawaiian shirt. upon further inspection, Chris noticed him holding a magazine with muscular men. All the writing was in Russian so he was unfamiliar with the publishing. The short man glanced over and noticed his attention.
"Can you believe they stopped printing Kvir? Shmeshnoy I say!" He said adding Chris to his social sphere.
Trying to act oblivious, Chris turned away then looked back in the little mans direction asking what he was on about. He just giggled like an old woman and went back to eye drooling the models. 'Fucking gross old dude' Chris thought. He did look well aged. Maybe sixties? Now he almost wished to sit next to his sister or even a parent.
"You like Vegas?" The old, short, and perverted man asked. Oh god, Chris thought. He is doing it. He is really going to talk to me. Fuck. Just about anyone would react that way if they sat next to this particular person who was a character to say the least. He didn't verbally reply, just gave a subtle nod while showing passive aggressive annoyance.
"I love Vegas. Not for the casinos or the strip. It is a place that births true street performers, Gypsy in their ethics." He rambled on to no listening audience. After a drawn out silence he laughed to himself. "You should venture to one." He added.
Chris was at wits end and was about to express it. Unfortunately, once turned the man was gone. In his place, a much taller emaciated elder woman. since he naturally looked down to see the little man his vision was now matched with her floppy breast. She noticed, the rest of the flight was uncomfortable for all parties in section G.
The sights grabbed attention for a few moments around the hotel, its smell the theme, etc. But as most teenagers and their fickle nature it wasn't long before boredom hit. What is a seventeen and fifteen year old supposed to do in vegas? No smoking. No drinking. No gambling. To all parents that take children on vacation. Vegas, fucking really? Do that shit without kids. Let them stay home and enjoy an empty soundless hearth for awhile. But Chris's father is reprieved of my wraith seeing that the trip was won and not bought.
For most the day they watched tv in the hotel as the parents enjoyed drinks and losing money downstairs. A few hours after night had fallen, Chris, had an idea. This city never sleeps and has a infamous reputation after dark. With a smirk, he grabbed a hotel key and was off.
The streets were covered in liberal amounts of inebriated people. A few had huddled crowds around local street magicians. He continued to saunter about with nothing better to do. Finally however, he reached the end of what was the well lit and bustling part of vegas. Now it actually looked like night time without the neon lights pervading the sky. It felt more like the desert and also due to the sound becoming more muffled and quiet. He still walked regardless. Maybe it was the headphones or that he was so lost in thinking about what to get Lail as a souvenir. He also had to think of what to say about said souvenir, since they're really not friends. How does one give a gift to someone they hardly know and not seem creepy? Keep pondering that one Chris. The short answer is, it's impossible. With all this in mind it is assumed that is why he practically wondered out of town.
"You there! Tall, emo, and cute!" A feminine voice called out. It was loud enough to pierce his headphones. This made reality fall back in. Everything around Chris was unfamiliar. Out in the middle of nowhere he glanced back at the glinting lights of town. They looked so far off in the distance it couldn't be possible that he ventured so far mindlessly. The threshold of Vegas was at least five or so miles away. He panicked. Scanning surrounding, nothing but darkness in all directions save the town and a stage to his left.
"You, the less attractive Jon Walker." It called out again. This time the voice had a face. It was a tall thin girl who looked about the same age as Chris. She was wearing a school uniform in the traditional Japanese high-school fashion. The colors however where all but normal. It was completly white shirt, skirt, and all. The blazer had a black 'H.H.S.' embroidered on the lapel. She was pale skinned and had jet black hair with long layers colored white.
Chris approched the stage with a look of complete loss in coherency. It wasn't until at the stages lip that he noticed another girl come from behind the red curtain. She was wearing the same everything, but opposite. White was black and black was white on this one. Facial features the exact same and all but the pattern change made them virtually indistinguishable.
"I'm Tem, this is my sister, Yas. We are the Mrachny twins!" Tem declaired and flipped her dominant white hair.
Yas just gave a timid wave and stayed behind her sister without a word. Chris was just dumbfounded and gave no gesture or verbal reply to the introduction. After a moment of silence, Tem grinned and waved her hand across in an arch motion.
"This is a one night, one delight, one alright show! What say you, sis? Let not rue laden our hearts from this menial audience! Let it provide a challenge, one to send them home and bring back thrice more!" Tem paced the stage as spoke. Everytime she moved her sister would turn beat red then run up and try to hid behind her sister again.
"Come sir, let us start with a magic trick." Tem said while gesturing Chris at the steps on the stage side.
Hesitant and full of questions, Chris remained silent and proceeded up and in the center area of the stage. So much was unkown to this situation that it made him simply go with the program. The twins moved all over shouting magician buzz words to pump up the nonexistent audience.
"Hey, so why are you two out here all al-" Before his question could finish Tem quickly fastened a blindfold on him.
He was about to yell at her in a panic as to what was going on but stopped all thought of it when he heard the sound of what seemed like thousands of people cheering. Just seconds ago he was on stage looking at a dark, empty, and cold desert. He felt deceived by his ears and the roaring people but it felt like the eyes of an audience pierced him. Confused, unamused, and curious Chris attemped to rip it off but his hands became full of a very warm touch.
"Umm, I know it's a bit scary. So, umm, I'll hold your hands." A very soft voice spoke.
Chris could hear Tems charismatic tone blare at the people so he figured it was Yas holding his hands. They felt soft. He though. Never held a girls hand before. It made him blush a little and completely forget his anger at unknowing of anything going on around him. In the next moment however he felt a cold thin object glide across the palm of his hand after that a hot sensation followed then stinging pain. 'Did they cut my hand?!' He though trying to jerk his none hurt hand away from Yas. She was surprisingly strong though and he couldn't break her grip. It felt warm at first but then cool as thick liquid trickled from his palm. 'Yes, that's blood' He thought starting to feel queasy.
"Let him who hath understanding reckon the plains that exist to coexist! Let him be guided, let him break, then let him be actualized as truth. It was on Sunday that god left the earth to us and it was that day actualization was cultivated. Be good and proud as a pupil but not forget to teach! This is your sunday Chris! Enjoy your first day of school!" Tem spoke out at the people but it felt as if her voice was inside his head. They repeated over and over in his mind and each time a bit slower and more slurred. Till eventually all his senses went numb.
Chris woke with pressure on his chest and face. After a moment of gaining lucidity he realized he was lying prone on a loose gravel. Lifting his face off the surface a few pebbles stuck to his cheek fell off. Everything around him was blurry at first but it was clear there where a lot of people around him. Once he realized this a wave of embarrassment took over and helped him to gain his senses much quicker. After standing up and a few moments for his eyes to adjust what was around him made Chris second guess if he was dreaming or not. In front of him was what looked like a normal government built public building. Had a beige color to it that most all tax structures infamously wore. Looked about 4 stories and sported off a healthy green field around its grounds with clean pale grey walkways perfectly pathed around it.
What made the sight uneasy was how naturally illuminated it looked. With just a quick glance at the sky above there was no sun nor cloud but a russet color ceiling. At the building grounds fringes it looked more like the light was an aura on it then a light source from any direction.
Chris looked to his left and right. Each side had a perfect single file line tracing to booths. The left one had a sign above it that read 'Returning students' The right one said 'New students'. None of this made sense to him. The word 'student' did ring a bell when Tem was talking about school or something as she spoke her gibberish before he passed out.
"Get in the right line please!" An authoritative voice barked. Chris turned to see a tall muscular man with unnaturally bright grey eyes tower over him. His arms folded and chin up as he glared down at Chris.
"Which one is the right line for me?" Chris asked sounding very sarcastic. Wow Chris, way to be a shit in your unknown situation. I'm willing to bet if you got lost in the woods you could make a good racist joke but not build a fire.
The man flaired up his nose and pointed a strained muscular arm at the right side.
Chris quietly obeyed and took a very long walk to the back of the line. As he passed people it made him feel a bit more comfortable. Each person he went by seemed just as confused about what was going on. They all ranged from his age to what looked like mid 20's. Finally reaching the end he decided to strike a conversation with the man in front of him.
"Hey, umm, So what the fuck is going on, dude?" Blunt and to the point he asked. The guy turned around and looked like a very basic and uninspiring 20 year old man. He had some shade on his chin and cheeks, a purple beenie and smooth skin indicated a youthful, relaxed person.
"Not a fucking clue dude. I just got in line a minute ago." He replied turning sideways. He took a look at the unmoving line then turned his attention back at Chris.
"I'm Alvey. And a nice face plant back there." He laughed holding out a fist. Chris bumped it embarrassed and gave his name in reply. After a minute or two he noticed other people getting in line but none from the ground.
"Why was I the only one who came here face first on the floor?" He asked upset at his treatment by the unknown host.
"I don't know dude. Are you retarded? It was super funny." Alvey said seriously. The words came out so natural that Chris was almost not offended.
"I'm not retarded!" Chris blurted out gaining everyone around hims attention.
"Well thats good to know. You shouldn't have a problem filling out this form then." A feminine reply came out by Chris's side.
He turned to see a woman about his height holding a stapled form with an outstretched arm in front of him. After he took it, all her features became visible. She had long white hair. Bangs braided and the rest straight down past her shoulders. She had the same bright grey eyes the muscular man had and black lipstick on. The lipstick color gave contrast to a single pointy tooth that poked out and over her bottom lip. It looked very sharp and ivory white. She wore the same uniform the twins had on back in vegas.
Chris was shocked by her beauty and gazed inappropriately for some time before Alvey spoke.
"Dude, our own imp!" He said looking over chris's shoulder at the form. The woman rolled her eyes and walked away to hand out more of them to other people in line.
"Are they for real? Like a really, real imp?" Alvey was ecstatic but Chris was just confused. He was just gaining more questions then answers. Ignoring Alvey, he skimmed through the form and it looked almost like an animal adoption paper.
-gender choice
-personality
-likes/dislikes
-strict or lenient
"What the fuck is going on?!" Chris yelled looking up at the endless stretching out rosset ceiling high up in the sky.
Oh Chris, things have only just begun. Say goodbye to family. Say farewell to friends. Your old life is over now. Remember Chris, God left on Sunday. Today is your Sunday.
To be continued with chapter 2: Jamal the imp