Right, here's a little more on this. I dedicate this post to writers
like China Mieville whose ability to come up with some DISTURBING
images inspired this.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It bothered Lynch slightly that he had barely been on Upside and already he felt odd at shedding his new human form to visit the Grounds Below. His true shape somehow didn't feel quite right. It was on par with the feeling one got when he visits his old house and see how the new residents had changed it all around until it no longer even looked like the house he remembered. Lynch's real form was exactly as how he had left it. And yet, it didn't feel quite as comfortable. He missed his human form and hoped to complete his task quickly so he could return.
As the demon walked through Hell's familiar walkways, several other beings greeted him with either a hiss or the odd claw/hoof/snaggling teeth to the face. With an irritated air of one who was in a hurry, Lynch averted all of them and sped up his pace. As he approached his destination, the number of surrounding demons tapered off until Lynch
found himself to be the only demon around.
The only whole demon to be more exact.
While there was a cacophony of wails and shrieks to begin with, Lynch heard another one add itself to the miserable mix as he pressed his foot in the wrong place. With a grimace, Lynch pulled back his leg and examined the sole of his foot. The face he had accidentally
stepped on glared up at him with its one good eye that was still in its socket. The other eye was now smashed into the hole in its head while a small bit of it stuck to Lynch's foot. The demon shook his leg, attempting to dislodge the small piece of eye lingering on his toes.
Lynch hated the Dump. As did most demons, those who were banished to it and those who just knew of its existence on the far edges of Hell. For a time, the Dump had grown in its size as many demons had been broken apart and banished there by Satan as punishment for some misconduct. But as the number of punishments grew, demons began to see the horror that was the Dump and soon began to behave. It was now rare that a demon would commit an act so heinous that they would end up there.
But there had been a new arrival awhile back.
Varying arms, hooves, and claws raked the air as Lynch climbed over the amputated stumps that were somehow seared into the floors and walls of the Dump. Lynch wondered what it would be like to be smashed into pieces like that and sautered onto the walls. He imagined it wasn't terribly pleasant, judging by the mournful wails coming from the various heads and faces smashed into the walls, unable to move or
escape.
While the demon had considered asking for some directions, he decided against it. It would take him longer to locate who he needed but he wasn't in the mood to interact with other victims of the Dump if he could help it. After a frustrating search wherein Lynch managed to dislodge a few more eyeballs from faces unfortunately plastered onto
teh floor, he located the one head he needed.
"Duke Hastur...good to see you again," greeted Lynch. "At least see a bit of you."
Hastur's head was fused at an angle so that the chin stuck skyward slightly. His eyes rolled, trying to locate the source of the voice. Kicking and stamping a few wayward arm stumps out of the way, Lynch crouched down as low as he dared by the former whole demon. Getting the other demon into his line of vision, Hastur growled. Lynch smiled. "Now, now, put on a happy face."
"Fuck off," croaked the former Duke of Hell, making up for his weak voice with pure hostility.
"That's no way to talk to your successor," tisked Lynch.
The small eyes squinted further as it regarded the upside down image of Lynch. "What the fuck do you want, Lae-"
"I go by Lynch, now," corrected the demon.
A smirk appeared on Hastur's distorted face. "The fuck do you want, Lynch?" Hastur's utterance of Lynch's name was the verbal equivalent of a person's reaction to finding some dog excrement on his shoe.
"I need some information from you, Mr. H," stated Lynch with an airy cheer that he put on for the sole purpose of irritating Hastur a little bit more. In most cases he would have attempted some amount of politeness. But Lynch knew Hastur's history with Crowley to some extent. He also knew the pure hate and desire for revenge the former Duke of Hell, who had been banished to the Dump for his unlicensed assassination attempt on Crowley, would fuel him to give him some information.
Batting away a wildly gesticulating blind leg, Lynch leaned a little closer to Hastur. "I've got an early holiday gift for you," he said quietly with a grin. "How'd you like to help me liquify your favorite demon?" A look of confusion mingled into Hastur's hostile expression. "Crowley, Duke Hastur, Crowley," clarified Lynch.
"That bloody little SNAKE! It's his damn fault I'm here in this wasteland of demon body parts!" screamed Hastur. At the extra volume, neighboring appendages gestured more wildly.
"I know all about what happened with you and Crowley...and how you ended up here while he got a get out of jail free card."
Hastur looked confused again and Lynch regretted using the Monopoly analogy. Obviously, his predecessors hadn't been as aware of earth. Shaking off the comparison, Lynch pressed on. "I need you to help me. I need information about Crowley. Mainly, I need to find a weakness. Something I could use against him."
Hastur snorted. "Little bleeder couldn't fend off a left hook if his life de-"
"No, no, no," interrupted Lynch. "I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about a weakness. A vulnerable spot that I could use against him."
"He's a demon. You could punch him all you want-"
"NO." Lynch rubbed his forehead and considered how to explain this. "Look, I need to know if there's something Crowley likes. Something I could use to lure him with or bargain with should I get my hands on it. Something he would....care about."
Hastur seemed to give it some thought. His eyes rolled away from Lynch and back to him. "That wagon of his. That car."
Lynch rolled his eyes. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea.
"And then there's the Angel."
"Wait, go back please?"
"His counterpart."
"Yes, I know they've made contact," said Lynch, irritably. This was all old information. "I know Crowley's worked out some bargain with the angel Aziraphale."
Hastur would have shook his head had it not been a part of the floor. "Ever wonder how the snake came back into existence?"
Lynch frowned. "I thought Lucifer turned back-"
The other demon gave a slight grin, realizing at long last how he did indeed have the perfect information for Lynch. "Someone had to petition for the snake's revival."
Lynch kicked away a hand and sat down on the back of a demon's head, squashing his face into the ground. He would have to get comfortable for this. "Go on," he ordered to Hastur's head.
like China Mieville whose ability to come up with some DISTURBING
images inspired this.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It bothered Lynch slightly that he had barely been on Upside and already he felt odd at shedding his new human form to visit the Grounds Below. His true shape somehow didn't feel quite right. It was on par with the feeling one got when he visits his old house and see how the new residents had changed it all around until it no longer even looked like the house he remembered. Lynch's real form was exactly as how he had left it. And yet, it didn't feel quite as comfortable. He missed his human form and hoped to complete his task quickly so he could return.
As the demon walked through Hell's familiar walkways, several other beings greeted him with either a hiss or the odd claw/hoof/snaggling teeth to the face. With an irritated air of one who was in a hurry, Lynch averted all of them and sped up his pace. As he approached his destination, the number of surrounding demons tapered off until Lynch
found himself to be the only demon around.
The only whole demon to be more exact.
While there was a cacophony of wails and shrieks to begin with, Lynch heard another one add itself to the miserable mix as he pressed his foot in the wrong place. With a grimace, Lynch pulled back his leg and examined the sole of his foot. The face he had accidentally
stepped on glared up at him with its one good eye that was still in its socket. The other eye was now smashed into the hole in its head while a small bit of it stuck to Lynch's foot. The demon shook his leg, attempting to dislodge the small piece of eye lingering on his toes.
Lynch hated the Dump. As did most demons, those who were banished to it and those who just knew of its existence on the far edges of Hell. For a time, the Dump had grown in its size as many demons had been broken apart and banished there by Satan as punishment for some misconduct. But as the number of punishments grew, demons began to see the horror that was the Dump and soon began to behave. It was now rare that a demon would commit an act so heinous that they would end up there.
But there had been a new arrival awhile back.
Varying arms, hooves, and claws raked the air as Lynch climbed over the amputated stumps that were somehow seared into the floors and walls of the Dump. Lynch wondered what it would be like to be smashed into pieces like that and sautered onto the walls. He imagined it wasn't terribly pleasant, judging by the mournful wails coming from the various heads and faces smashed into the walls, unable to move or
escape.
While the demon had considered asking for some directions, he decided against it. It would take him longer to locate who he needed but he wasn't in the mood to interact with other victims of the Dump if he could help it. After a frustrating search wherein Lynch managed to dislodge a few more eyeballs from faces unfortunately plastered onto
teh floor, he located the one head he needed.
"Duke Hastur...good to see you again," greeted Lynch. "At least see a bit of you."
Hastur's head was fused at an angle so that the chin stuck skyward slightly. His eyes rolled, trying to locate the source of the voice. Kicking and stamping a few wayward arm stumps out of the way, Lynch crouched down as low as he dared by the former whole demon. Getting the other demon into his line of vision, Hastur growled. Lynch smiled. "Now, now, put on a happy face."
"Fuck off," croaked the former Duke of Hell, making up for his weak voice with pure hostility.
"That's no way to talk to your successor," tisked Lynch.
The small eyes squinted further as it regarded the upside down image of Lynch. "What the fuck do you want, Lae-"
"I go by Lynch, now," corrected the demon.
A smirk appeared on Hastur's distorted face. "The fuck do you want, Lynch?" Hastur's utterance of Lynch's name was the verbal equivalent of a person's reaction to finding some dog excrement on his shoe.
"I need some information from you, Mr. H," stated Lynch with an airy cheer that he put on for the sole purpose of irritating Hastur a little bit more. In most cases he would have attempted some amount of politeness. But Lynch knew Hastur's history with Crowley to some extent. He also knew the pure hate and desire for revenge the former Duke of Hell, who had been banished to the Dump for his unlicensed assassination attempt on Crowley, would fuel him to give him some information.
Batting away a wildly gesticulating blind leg, Lynch leaned a little closer to Hastur. "I've got an early holiday gift for you," he said quietly with a grin. "How'd you like to help me liquify your favorite demon?" A look of confusion mingled into Hastur's hostile expression. "Crowley, Duke Hastur, Crowley," clarified Lynch.
"That bloody little SNAKE! It's his damn fault I'm here in this wasteland of demon body parts!" screamed Hastur. At the extra volume, neighboring appendages gestured more wildly.
"I know all about what happened with you and Crowley...and how you ended up here while he got a get out of jail free card."
Hastur looked confused again and Lynch regretted using the Monopoly analogy. Obviously, his predecessors hadn't been as aware of earth. Shaking off the comparison, Lynch pressed on. "I need you to help me. I need information about Crowley. Mainly, I need to find a weakness. Something I could use against him."
Hastur snorted. "Little bleeder couldn't fend off a left hook if his life de-"
"No, no, no," interrupted Lynch. "I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about a weakness. A vulnerable spot that I could use against him."
"He's a demon. You could punch him all you want-"
"NO." Lynch rubbed his forehead and considered how to explain this. "Look, I need to know if there's something Crowley likes. Something I could use to lure him with or bargain with should I get my hands on it. Something he would....care about."
Hastur seemed to give it some thought. His eyes rolled away from Lynch and back to him. "That wagon of his. That car."
Lynch rolled his eyes. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea.
"And then there's the Angel."
"Wait, go back please?"
"His counterpart."
"Yes, I know they've made contact," said Lynch, irritably. This was all old information. "I know Crowley's worked out some bargain with the angel Aziraphale."
Hastur would have shook his head had it not been a part of the floor. "Ever wonder how the snake came back into existence?"
Lynch frowned. "I thought Lucifer turned back-"
The other demon gave a slight grin, realizing at long last how he did indeed have the perfect information for Lynch. "Someone had to petition for the snake's revival."
Lynch kicked away a hand and sat down on the back of a demon's head, squashing his face into the ground. He would have to get comfortable for this. "Go on," he ordered to Hastur's head.