A/N: I've been re-watching some old favourites lately and Hellraiser was on the list (as well as a movie about an entirely different Labyrinth with a rather more glittery antagonist). Given my penchant for silly humour this is the inevitable result.
He stared silently at the screen.
He'd been staring silently at the screen for the last half-hour, the only sign that he wasn't a marble statue an intermittent twitching between his eyes.
It was ridiculous. The task the dark god Leviathan had assigned him was a frippery. A mere trifle, that he could only hope was punishment for some minor lapse purpose. Yet focus as he did the words would not flow. Part of him wanted smash his fist down onto the flimsy desk that had been supplied for the endeavour. However, that would be an unforgivable sign of weakness. A lapse in the seemingly endless patience that had raised him so high in his god's favour.
To think that I who have spent years carefully breaking apart the bodies and souls of the strongest of the human species, should fail at this paltry task.
After another three minutes had past, his female follower cleared her exposed throat. "I have been searching for a solution. This catechism on Tips for Aspiring Authors says that writers' block may be cured by taking time to do something that one enjoys."
"This is not writer's block, I am merely considering the best way to proceed. Leviathan has tasked us with creating a work that will swell our ranks with new supplicants, eager to explore the further reaches of experience."
As he said the words, he knew that they were lacking in conviction. The fact was that he was starting to wonder whether Leviathan had – to use that colourful British idiom - gone stark raving bonkers.
It has all started with the internet.
Well, no, it hadn't started with the internet. That had merely been the first symptom. It had started with Leviathan's temporary departure for the Bi-millennial Dark Forces of the Multiverse Convivium. When the dark god had returned he had summoned the highest ranked amongst the unholy order and stressed a need to 'establish a more synergistic relationship with modern humanity'. On reflection the use of the word 'synergistic' should had set alarm bells ringing. However, he hadn't realised until the equipment had started to arrive just what that might entail. He had thought that the whole embarrassing 'Hellworld' débâcle would be enough to ensure that the Cenobites continued to remain aloof from "Information Technology". However, the team of humans had arrived and – shockingly unmolested by the Cenobites – installed miles of wiring, servers, routers and transdimensional beacons, while audibly comparing the majesty of the Labyrinth to the other dimensions where they'd worked their dubious magics.
"Wish we were back in Mordor," he'd overheard a scruffy looking youth in a Dethklok t-shirt mutter. "At least some of the Orcs were a laugh – and it didn't stink of vanilla."
"Look say what you want about these guys, but at least we're not dealing with the Goblin King any more," said his supervisor, a small thin red-head whose blood-espresso content should have been fatal."It took five weeks to stop Kevin reeking of the Bog of Eternal Stench."
"Well I was talking to that Butter Bloke earlier – got a mouth on him once he gets going. And he reckons that his Boss Man's got his own Jareth-Sarah situation going on. If you know what I mean."
"Better hurry up and before we end up in the middle of it again then."
"Where are we going next anyway."
"You're going to install a new server in Silent Hill. I''ll be negotiating a new contract with Well Wraith Multimedia"
"Again?"
"They're our best clients, but they seem to change their business model every seven days."
Pinhead had been of a mind to flay the pair of them there and then for the casual insolence. However, an admonition from Leviathan had rung out in his head, and he had acquiesced – however reluctantly - to his Lord's command
Within week the changes had started.
The Daily 'Souls Reaped' Achievements Bulletin.
The weekly senior management strategy review meetings.
The online Gash Member Performance appraisal forms.
When he'd finally been summoned alone into Leviathan's presence. He had thought that all would be revealed, and the method to the madness would be revealed to him. He had been wrong. Woefully wrong.
Rotating above the Labyrinth the dark god had spoken to him. "It has come to my attention that there has been an awakening amongst the Earth's female population. They cry out to experience the flesh in ways they have not before."
"There will always be such awakenings and we will always ready to-"
"No, my son. This is different. This new. This is Fifty Shades of Grey."
Pinhead had merely stared as the relevant information had been seared directly into his mind.
"We must capitalise on this opportunity. The book does not go far enough. You must open their eyes to a new universe of flesh, hunger and desire."
Realisation instantly began to dawn. "You mean-"
"Yes, I want you to write a new novel. A thrilling exploration of the extremes of sensation, that will lead them to seek you out."
Which was why he was currently there staring at a blank word file. It really shouldn't have been difficult. The book in question barely dipped it's little toe into the sea of sensation. He by contrast was a virtuoso of the art. And yet there he was unable to think up a plot.
"Perhaps you could start with the title, and then weave together a story that merges the genre conventions with our explorations." the female suggested.
The Chatterer gnashed his teeth in agreement.
He thought about this and decided that there was merit to this suggestion.
Slowly he began to type, his fingers hunting and pecking at the QUERTY keyboard.
A Cacophony of Black: Book 1
An odd feeling of satisfaction swept through him. He had finally made a start. Then deciding that he was on a roll, he continued.
Billionaire playboy hell priest Totec Black looked around the exquisite emptiness of his vast chamber and contemplated his success. Once again, the performance of Gash Industries had eclipsed the other unworthy competitors in the sector, making them number one on the Leviathan Share Index. Yet, as the hooks and chains descending from the ceiling clinked together melodiously, he felt as if something undefinable was missing.
He paused. This was good. He'd established that his main character as a powerful, successful alpha-male type. The key to the genre. The trouble that he wasn't quite sure how to move things forward.
"An assistant," said the female, as if reading his thoughts. "She arrives with important news."
There was a knock at the door.
"Enter," he ordered.
It was his personal assistant Nickoletta Selyse, dressed in a businesslike black suit. She was followed by his his heavily scarred head of security, a man known only as 'Gnasher'. Also dressed in black.
"What is it?" he demanded, in a voice of calm command. Annoyed by the interruption as he was, it would not do allow his irritation to show.
"It's Princess Angelica of Dis," said Nickoletta, mouth pursing in distaste. "She's accusing you of sabotage… again."
Gnasher ground his teeth in anger.
He regarded the pair coolly. "She's always accusing me of sabotage. Last year she claimed that I'd stolen the plans for the Elysium Fields development from her safe." He had in fact been responsible for the scheme's failure, but he'd done it properly – by conveying the architect to spend an eternity of pain in the presence of the dark god.
"Well, this time the authorities have listened to her incessant mewling. They've had Butters detained in Milan on terrorism charges."
He pondered this. Having his accountant arrested was a bold move even for the impetuous and foolish Princess."Send our best lawyers, and have the Wyre Twins looks into what dear cousin Angelica has been doing lately."
Nickoletta nodded.
"Is there anything else?"
"Yesterday evening Gnasher caught a woman trying to break in."
"Oh." Had he had any eyebrows he would have raised one enquiringly.
"She says that her name's Kristin Silk, and that you were responsible for her father's disappearance. She's been locked up downstairs over night. Should we call the authorities, or would like us to 'dispose' of the problem ourselves?"
Re-reading what he had just written, Pinhead inwardly smiled. This was going well. Just one page in and he'd already introduced the brooding protagonist, the spirited heroine, two members of the supporting cast and an espionage sub-plot. When the bell signalling their imminent summoning to the mortal realm began to toll he felt almost sorry to be leaving his work in progress incomplete.
As they departed the female looked at him meaningfully. "I think that we should make more of the personal assistant character. She's clearly the best placed to investigate the Princess – and the Wire Twins lack subtlety."
High above the Labyrinth, Leviathan looked on as the door between worlds was opened once more. Now that he was certain that his most favoured – and alas most observant – enforcer was preoccupied with the most ridiculous busywork imaginable, it was finally Time To Play.
The portal sprung into life.
...Multiverse of Warcraft is Opening
CrazyBlackDiamond is online
EyeOfMordor: Hey, look who finally decided to show.
CrazyBlackDiamond: Finally got Pinhead looking the other way.
EyeOfMordor: You should try sending him on a jewellery quest. Worked a treat withAngmar and the Nazgul.
CrazyBlackDiamond: Yes, but I remember what happened the last time he was allowed out without a box-imposed curfew. Irate angelic visitations for days.
inSidious: Gentlemen are we going to bitch about our underlings all day, or are we going to give the Forces of Good a thrashing that they'll never forget.
CrazyBlackDiamond: FOR THE HOARD!
-o0O0o-
A/N: Will Pinhead and co finish their sordid opus? Can Leviathan's favourite avoid being subjected to a Management Training Seminar? Which 'lucky' mortal lady will be given the task of reviewing the manuscript? Will anybody actually realise that the Dark God is trolling the shit out of them?