Disclaimer: All characters used here belong to the Digimon franchise. I claim ownership of nothing except the ideas.
Hell, Takeru knows, is not a wasteland of fire and brimstone with devils and demons and the souls of the wicked at every turn. It is not unbearably hot and cruel, so horrible that to look upon it would drive one mad.
Hell is thirty-three degrees Fahrenheit, when the rain is almost snow, cold and slippery. Hell is one careless driver and a two-ton vehicle. Hell is Daisuke's now cold body, limp and heavy in his arms, his crimson blood spilling onto the wet street as Takeru screams and his body swells with the agony of the eternal inferno.
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