Part3 of ANGEL TO HER
Disclaimer- nope still owns nothing!
Hi all, sorry I haven't updated in a while, been busy with work and a possible Wispa addiction.
CHAPTER3
The room was a cold, hard dirty place and the air was thick with the horrid stench of flesh.
The only noise to be heard was the constant jingle of chains hanging from the walls and ceiling making an almost horrid melody.
That and the odd gut wrenching, entrails being ripped out scream in the distance.
But today this room was empty; no one was being tortured or ripped apart here.
No bloody carcasses swung from the ceiling, the hooks hung free today.
The walls were not dripping with blood, shit or any other horrible unmentionables; they just remained filthy and dark.
And today the lone dark figure just sat in the corner of the room.
Thinking.
A week ago he would have had this room painted with the flesh of some poor unfortunate soul.
The hooks would have been laden with bodies, screaming bodies.
The air would have been thick with cries of fear, regret, joy or just good old fashioned pain.
But today Pinhead just sat alone in the corner of this cell.
Thinking.
'She wants to help me, but why?' he pondered to himself.
He had been asking himself the same question over and over since they had made the deal.
That night when Kirsty had called for him, he was ready to rip her apart the second he got there.
How could she make the same mistake again? Opening the box, was she a fool? Didn't she realise not many people meet a cenobite and live to tell the tale?
But before he could do or say anything she had grabbed what looked like to be a photograph of some sort.
She held it up before her then looked straight at him, right into his eyes.
Pinhead had never met anyone who was brave enough to look him straight in the eye.
This had caught him off guard and stopped him dead in his tracks; he just stood and stared at her in astonishment.
Realising she had him where she wanted him; Kirsty took the frighteningly hard few steps towards him (she was more accustomed to running in the other direction).
And she practically thrust the photograph into his hands.
The second Pinhead laid eyes on the man in the photograph his mind was bombarded with thousands and thousands of memories.
'I remember' he had silently thought to himself.
Why had Kirsty given him this picture this key to his past?
Pinhead's mind was swimming with questions.
All he could do was stare at this photo.
'I want you to help me find my father' Kirsty spoke quietly to him, she was still very wary of him and knew his temper.
'You know that's not possible. If your father is in hell it would be near impossible to find him anyway' Pinhead muttered while still looking down at the picture.
Kirsty knew he'd say that.
But she wasn't giving up.
She wanted her father back, come Hell, high water or a pissed off cenobite she would find him.
She readied herself for what she was going to say, because no doubt this is what would tip him over the edge and drag her kicking and screaming to hell.
'This is the deal you help me I help you' she said nervously.
He looked up at her and stared straight into her eyes with an almost murderous look.
'If you help me find my father…' she started
He was curious now.
Kirsty took a deep breath.
'I'll help you become human again' she finished.
Ever since that night Pinhead had replayed the whole thing out in his head over and over.
He still had no idea why she would help him, yes she did need him to help her find her father but he had almost killed her, she couldn't be serious.
'It could be trick' Pinhead thought.
But why then had she shown him the photograph, that certainly was real.
They had both agreed that Kirsty would call for him again so they could start working out a plan.
Now sitting alone in this dark dingy room Pinhead could only wait and wonder at what their next meeting will hold.
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