DISCLAIMER: This fanfic is NOT reflective of any views the author personally has of others, nor to attack anyone with similar or contrary beliefs. This whole thing is literally just some dumb fun to take a nice break from my usual stuff. I do update my chapters every so often. I'm just letting you know.
There is a little juxtaposition, but is minimal and otherwise harmless.

Some details are going to be wrong because I can't really spend too much time on the wiki, so forgive me if details don't exactly line up 1 to 1 w/ the lore, but you're also free to point these mistakes out as I release chapters so I may fix them when I have time.

Also, I'm working on a different version of the story on AnArchiveOfOurOwn, so feel free to check that out if you have time.

I am currently treating this version as a prototype/early draft, and I do plan to delete this version somewhere down the line. I'm letting you know here, for future notice.

Thank you for your time. Have fun!

Chapter 4 – Right Back at It Again

ZACK'S APARTMENT

The door is barricaded. The window's curtains are closed. Zack had his gun loaded and pointed at the door. He lit his blunt, listening to the cries of the damned as the slaughter outside his apartment continued.

"This is going to be a very depressing wait. At least Driver and Church are okay." Zack sat in his chair, smoking.

Eventually, one-by-one, the screaming outside died down.

"I mean, I know we're all demons, and a lot of people that are here kind-of, sort-of deserve it, but I be damned if this doesn't hurt to listen to. How's this supposed to be an eternal punishment if we're dying all the time?"

He heard footsteps travel outside his apartment hangover, then halt in front of the door.

"… Okay, that's ominous."

*KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK*

"Nope." Zack continued his smoke.

*KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK*

He inhaled more of his joint.

*KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK*

"Go- *COUGH*!" Zack forgot he still had some Satan's cabbage vapor in his lungs.

"Crap! I hope Timothy doesn't find out about this one. I'll never hear the end of it!"

He took a moment to recompose himself before trying again.

"Go away! I'm not home!"

A voice replied on the other side of the door. It was nothing like Zack ever heard before in his life, along with the language.

Zack double-took between his smoke and the door, deciding to douse the remaining drug for later before he choked himself on it again.

"… Excuse me? Can you say that again?"

The voice repeated its previous statement.

"I can't understand you! What are you saying?"

*THWACK*

Something got nailed to the door.

"Sheesh! No need to be upset about it!"

Zack continued sitting there, waiting for the bell to ring.

Pause.

Eventually the bell did signal the extermination to be over.

"Well, okay then." Zack put his gun away and started unbarricading the place.

He opened the door, seeing a big, heavenly knife stabbed into the door.

"Why is there a letter attached to it?" Zack tried to read it.

"The hell's this Ancient-Greek-looking-hieroglyphics-shit?! I can't read that!"

As Zack pondered what he was looking at, then looked around to see if there was anyone else.

"The fuck's going on?!"

He took the knife and note out of the door and headed back into his room.

"Alright, let's see if Timothy knows what this is, cuz if he don't, then I don't know who does!" He put the pair of items on the table and snapped a picture with his phone and prepped to send it.

. . .

Meanwhile, back at the Godforsaken…

Church bit his lip, contemplating the selection from the menu.

Evelyn tapped her shoulder, annoyed at Church's indecisiveness.

"I think-… Nah. That's not it." He put his fingers to his lips.

"Just order something." Her patience ran out.

"It's literally my first drink! I've never tasted these adult drinks before!"

"Neither did I until I tried my Brandy-Cola, and you don't hear me complaining about that! Do you?"

"But you said it yourself that it was strong!" Church retorted.

"Just pick one!" Evelyn grumbled.

Driver patiently waited, still holding the giant book of tabs. Timothy had just finished wrapping up drinks for the evening, having everyone settled in their seats.

"Church, you don't have to order today if you don't feel comfortable." Driver mentioned.

"I don't really have any cash on me, otherwise I'd order some of those chicken wings."

"Wrath wings?" Driver asked for clarification.

"Yea. That."

Timothy's ears perked.

"Hey, Church."

"Hey, what?" He looked at Timothy.

"Do you know how to play some Cash?"

Church looked at the cheeky hellhound sideways.

"Money isn't an instrument, though?"

Evelyn choked on her water, Timothy snickered, Driver rolled his eyes, and Church had no idea what anybody was talking about.

"He meant JOHNNY CASH, you twit." Evelyn explained the joke.

"… Oh." Church nodded.

"Well… I did sing in school choir for a little bit, I'm competent in guitar and piano."

Timothy looked at Church.

"But can you play some Cash, though?"

Church shrugged, unsure how to answer the question.

"Alright, well, tell you what: Go up to the front stage and play something – nothing copyrighted! That would just get the author in trouble."

"What are you on about?" Church asked.

"Anyways, there's even a guitar right there! Don't worry about the baseline. I'll cook some wings for you in the meantime. Sound about right?"

Church looked around the sanctuary floor. There were still enough people to count as an audience.

"I uh-… I have bad stage fright."

"Then no free food, then!" Timothy delivered his ultimatum.

"… I am hungry, and chicken wings sounds really good." Church contemplated.

"Alright, fine! You win." He let his hunger win over potential embarrassment.

Church got out of his seat and started heading toward the stage where the altar would've been placed. There was the guitar, right where Timothy said it'd be.

There was, however, a small problem: The guitar was the wrong type.

"Well, I've gone without food before, so…" Church turned around, ready to leave.

Then a baseline started playing.

"Hey, look! I didn't know it was karaoke night!" One of the demons spotted him. Before Church could even blink, all the demons in the room had their eyes on him.

"… Oh crap!" He froze in place, fumbling.

"Come on! You late to the Sunday sermon or something?" One of the spectators jested.

Church looked over to his comrades, hoping for an exit.

"Timothy, are you sure this is okay?" Evelyn questioned.

"Down here, you get used to it." Timothy remained smug.

Church did not get an exit.

The baseline is still playing.

He grabbed the guitar and tested its tune.

One of the demons pulled out a phone and held it up. The baseline is still playing in the background.

"I- uh… I-" Church stuttered as he held the guitar.

"Help me! I have literally no idea what I'm doing!" He caged his thoughts and bit his cheek as he repositioned his hand over the frets.

"Just shred the guitar, man! Play whatever you want!" One of the demons in the crowd yelled.

"I've literally only played my mom's acoustic guitar. I don't know anything about this monkey-voodoo techno-magic stuff!" Church bit his lip and started playing some warm-up chords.

*VZRRRM-* Church silenced the strings.

The baseline paused, almost as if waiting for Church to catch up.

"Uhm-…" Church accidentally muttered.

The entire crowd of demons was still looking at him.

"I-, uh… I would sing, but I'm out of tune tonight." He tried to joke.

"It's karaoke! That's to be expected!" Someone in the crowd retorted.

"W-well, true! That's true-…" Church braced himself.

"But I've literally only played gospel songs."

A cricket sound effect played during the brief pause.

"What were you? A choir boy?"

"Pastor's kid, actually?" Church answered.

For the most part, the crowd softly laughed – more akin to a comedy night than the uproar of mockery Church fully expected. One of the demons scribbled a "John 3:16" on a cardboard sign and held it up.

"At least he didn't write "God hates [ x ]" on there. That would've been another gut-kick to my stomach I don't need." Church nervously smiled. He couldn't really care if the sign was in good fun, mocking him, or both.

Some demons shrugged, some smiled, but most were just here for a drink and not getting murdered.

"For being a pack of literal demons, everyone's surprisingly chill." Church cleared his throat and collected his thoughts.

"… What the hell am I supposed to play? There's nothing I really know that I know these people would like!" Church adjusted his grip on the guitar and ran through what he knew how to play.

"Not Amazing grace - very wrong place for that! Not any of the hymns I learned in Sunday school - that'd be stupid. I don't even remember the songs Olga would listen to on her weird song-pod-thing. DO I EVEN KNOW ANY SONGS THESE PEOPLE HAVE A CHANCE TO LIKE?!"

"Uh…" Church played some strings to familiarize himself, trying to buy himself some time.

"DUDE, COME ON! We don't care if it's shit! Just play something!" A sinner demon kicked back in one of the pews, waiting.

"When was the last time you played a guitar?" Another demon shouted.

"Last time I played guitar…" Church blinked, thinking to himself.

He had an epiphany.

"… Alright, I think I got something!" Church cleared his throat, then rehearsed a shred on the guitar.

"Oh shit, that wasn't bad." Timothy raised an eyebrow.

"Last time I touched a guitar… T'was the year, 2013 AD!" Church smiled.

"Though it's a story for another time, I remember it just like yesterday!" Church nodded his head and started tapping his foot to a beat.

"Because it wasn't just any day!" He silenced the strings and took a deep breath.

"It was A Day-…" Church paused for a corny dramatic effect.

"- To Remember!" He played the electric guitar as a matching beat played behind him on the sanctuary floor.

"I'M COMING OUT, SWINGING!" Church shredded the intro.

"Do I know this song?" A spectator commented.

"Shit, I know this one!"

"What?"

"HELL YEAH! YOU'RE KILLING IT!"

Church kept his foot to the beat and his hands busy playing the song.

More demons started taking out their phones and recording.

"SO HERE I AM!" Church continued shredding on the guitar.

The background baseline started increasing in intensity. Church followed suite.

"BRACE FOR IMPACT!" The beat dropped, and the stage lit on fire with Church still on it, still shredding the electric guitar like a maniac.

"What the-" Evelyn was ready to grab a fire extinguisher, but Timothy stopped her.

"Just watch!"

"SO I DIDN'T HEAR ABOUT IT!" Church continued pouring every fiber of his body into the performance.

"Dude, he's LITERALLY ON FIRE!"

"HOT DAMN!"

The crowd was eating it up.

Evelyn blinked, processing what was going on.

"What the hell is even happening?"

"I dunno, but if Church ends-up bringing in more customers, that's more cash coming in, so I'm for it!" Timothy shrugged, catching up with cleaning the glassware.

"Hot damn. He can shoot a shotgun, AND shred electric guitar." Driver stared at the spectacle.

"He shot what now?" Evelyn seemed to be the only one that didn't seem too amused at the situation.

Timothy's phone vibrated.

"Oh hey, it's from Zack."

The hellhound pulled it out and read the text.

"... What the fuck? Is that Angelic?!"

The fire cut out, and so did the music.

"So I didn't hear about it! B-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-tch!" Church concluded the song.

The crowd cheered. Church smiled, panting for breath.

Thank you for reading A Hope in Hell. I hope you enjoyed. Let me know your thoughts. If you've spotted an inconsistency, let me know so I can fix it. I don't always spy them in post, so it's always nice to have someone tell me as soon as possible!

Thank you for your time and I hope you have a good rest of your day!