Intro

He heard the gunshot first.

That's when he knew it was over.

He fell from the building which was 20 stories up, feeling his blood ooze from his body. He thought of them. Terry. Grandma Blake. Marc. Richard.

But he mostly thought of Wanda.

As his body connected with the hard pavement below only two things were on his mind: his loving wife Wanda, who'd he give anything to kiss again. And:

Quick and painless my ass.

For about two seconds, he felt the most excruciating pain he'd ever felt from the impact. Then, he drifted off into the unknown.

.,...

Al Simmons had been an assassin for 6 years, so he knew his life was always hanging by a thread.

But, holy fuck, he wasn't expecting this.

Looking around himself, he saw that fire was everywhere. Chaotic, evil, tormenting fire.

And black.

Black fire. And it was everywhere. So, Al knew exactly where he was. He'd read about it many times in the Bible.

He was in Hell.

Well, that's not surprising, Al thought to himself.

Al was an assassin. Of course he was going to Hell. But, the only thing he was questioning about was: how the hell do you pass time in...well, Hell? He wasn't asking for a ping pong tournament or anything, but a beer would definitely go a long way.

Sorry, Mr. Simmons. No beer today, a voice said.

Al looked around, looking for the voice, although he knew he wouldn't find it. The voice seemed to be coming from everywhere. And nowhere at the same time.

Suddenly, a large black circle of smoke rose in front of him, and a large dark red man with horns stepped out.

"Are you Satan?" Al asked, surprised by the man's demonic appearance.

"Now, see, that's just offensive," the horned demon said, looking truly disgusted. "What if I asked you if you were Eddie Murphy?"

"But I look nothing like Eddie Murphy," Al reasoned.

"And I look nothing like Satan," the demon said. "Trust me, when you see him, it won't be a question. You'll know."

Al stayed silent. One thing was for certain, he didn't want to meet Satan.

"Al Simmons," the demon said, reading off a fiery clip board. "24 years of age, black, ooh, an assassin. I guess you belong here, don't you?"

"Fuck you," Al said, getting pissed.

"Oh no, I meant no offense," the demon said, smiling. "I could use somebody like you. Somebody trained. Somebody lethal. You see, there's going to be a war, sooner them later, between Heaven and Hell. The tension's been rising quickly between God and Satan, which is saying something, considering they're seemingly at each other's throats all the time. How'd you like to be on the winning side?"

"What are you talking about," Al asked.

"I'm offering you a job, Al. I want you to be a general, commanding Hell's army," the demon said, smiling even wider. "The Hellspawn."

"Sorry, but fighting for Hell doesn't seem like a good idea," Al said. "Find someone else."

"What if you could wed Wanda again?"

That made Al's heartbeat stop. Well, it would've, if he had a heartbeat anymore. He was stuck in this place for eternity, but, if he excepted, he could see Wanda again. But, Al wasn't dumb. He wasn't about to make a deal with the devil. Well, not the devil, but a devil. Demon.

Not without a little negotiating first.

"Do you mean I go to her on Earth, or she comes down here?"

The demon smiled even more.

"Good thinking," he said. "Most of them really fuck up on that department. You don't know how many people who were supposed to go to Heaven, came down here because someone didn't think for a good two seconds."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Why, you'll go to her of course. You'll be able to see her. To touch her," the demon started licking his lips. "To love her."

Although the demon was creeping him out, Al would be lying if he said it didn't sound appealing.

"So, all I have to do is become the general for Hell's army?" he asked.

"That's all. And when we win, and Satan overthrows Heaven, you'll be a prince. Hell's Jesus."

A contract appears before the demon. At the bottom was a dotted line.

"Cliché much," Al says rolling his eyes. "Do you have a pen?"

"Just touch it," the demon said, pretty much shaking from excitement.

Al reached for it, then stopped. He really should read this first. Then, the demon moves the paper, making it touch Al's finger. Al looked in surprise as his name carved itself into the paper on the dotted line.

"What the fuck, fucker?!" Al asked incredulous.

"See you later, Spawn," the demon said as a large hole seemingly made from fire and brimstone formed behind him, sucking him.

"Wa -wait," Al stammered, trying not to be sucked in. "If you're not Satan, who are you?"

"I'm Malebolgia, Spawn," the demon said, then added. "Your master."

Upon hearing that, Al flew backwards into the hole, not knowing what was going to happen. He did have a feeling though. He'd just left one hell...

...and was probably about to step into another one.

...

Al Simmons: A buff black guy. (Black power!) About 6'1. Black hair (duh.)

Let me just say that this chapter is short, because it's just the intro. More stuff happens later. I think I'm going to introduce Angela in this fanfiction (I know I'm going to introduce at some point, but these New World stories are set up as books, so I don't know if it'll be in this one, or the next).

I'm a teenager, so I have a short attention span, so this probably won't be updated regularly. Okay, it won't. Plus, I'm taking English Honor's next year, so I have to read this book over the summer and do a report on it. It's some book about a peal or something by a guy named Steinbeck, I think. I don't know, I'll probably end up losing the book they gave me. (Have you noticed teachers always give out boring books about kids finding pearls, and nothing like Percy Jackson? Like, Jesus Christ.)

I realize now you don't care, and I'm rambling on. Till next time.

-Brad.