From Death to Damnation

Chapter 4: Deal with the Devil


"So… what is it? What do you want from me?"

Palkia had been taken to a large opulent room, with a blood-red carpet covering the entire floor. Statues stood up on medium height pillars in the room. Some of the statues had darkened angels that looked similar to Lucifer, positioned as if they were falling from somewhere. Others sported violent beasts, such as lions, eagles, wolves, and serpents. Serpents especially, as serpents also decorated the arches of the doorways into the room, and bordered the ceiling.

Palkia himself was sitting on a couch the same color as the carpet. Across from him was the fallen angel Himself.

"Oh, I don't want much of anything, Palkia. Being the Master of Hell is a good job in itself. It's want YOU what."

"What I want?"

"Hey slut." the demon said, turning to a black-haired girl waiting next to him. "Get us some more coffee, would you?"

Lucifer turned to Palkia. "You like coffee?"

"…Ehh… no thank you."

"Suit yourself." The girl left to get it, leaving the two alone.

"As dumb as she is, that girl can make one GOOD cup of coffee…" the demon grinned.

"Let's get back to the point." Palkia said, wanting to shift from the subject. "What I want?"

"Of course. You would want more than ANYTHING in the entire UNIVERSE to get back up to your planet, right?"

Palkia sighed. "To be honest, yes. I was just trying to stop her from destroying the entire human race."

"And that's very commendable of you, Palkia. Very commendable. But there's not much you can do about it now, now can you?"

"…No." Palkia muttered.

At that time, the girl returned with the demon's coffee and handed it off to him.

"Thank you." Lucifer said. "You are dismissed." The girl then left the two alone again.

"…Who is that girl?" Palkia asked.

"No one important. Well, no one important NOW." he chuckled. "She is… a former resistor. Former being the key word there."

"…I'm almost afraid to ask, but… why was she so quiet?"

"…Have you ever heard the phrase, 'an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth'?"
"Yes."

"She spoke out against me. Yakking on about how 'evil' I was and how 'corrupt' my little Games were. So, I personally cut out her tongue. To be frank, it was the only way she'd ever shut up."

Palkia was about to refute, but decided against it and remained quiet.

"So… you want to return home. Back to the Hall of Origin, right?" Lucifer chuckled again. "I can arrange that."

Palkia's eyes perked up. "Really? You-You'll send me back home?"

"…Under one of two conditions."

Palkia's eyes narrowed, determined to get home. "Let's hear them."

"Condition number 1. You participate in The Infernal Tournament. They're my games and my rules. Fight to the death."

"Fights to the death? You mean like that kind of one you just put me through?"

The devil chuckled again. "That? Oh that was just practice. But expect more to come. And trust me, it gets worse. Every century or so, I like to have some fun. Being the Master of Hell is a good job, but it gets boring after a little while. So, I hold a game called The Infernal Tournament. See, Hell has multiple circles. You might have read that somewhere; I don't know how they could've possibly found that out. …Anyway, here the basic gist of it. 7 circles, 14 contenders, 1 winner. In every circle, you face off against a foe. Each circle presents its' own unique challenges."

"Like the Olympics?"

"Ha! That's a laugh. The Olympics, puh… No, Palkia. This ISN'T the Olympics. These games are worse. Death, humiliation, torture, and your worst nightmares come to life. But it's your last chance to get out if you choose to participate. It's a blood bath. All but one die. Not that I'm complaining, it's less for me to clean up..."

"…And option number 2…" Palkia muttered, hoping for a better choice.

"You sell your soul to me."

"…That's it?"

"That's it." Lucifer said, grinning. "Do that and you're also home-free. Not bad, am I right?"

"…Sell my soul? What would that entail?"

"Oh, it's really nothing much. Not that big an issue."

"But this is my SOUL we're talking about." Palkia stated. "I think I have a right to know what you're going to do with it."

"I won't do much at all, really. Just keep it in a jar inside a little cabinet somewhere. It'll be safe. You just won't have it."

Palkia thought for a moment. "If I give you my soul… what happens when I go back up to the Hall of Origin?"

"…You willing to find out?" the devil smirked.

"Well… No. I'm not risking it. It's MY soul. It's a part of ME. I'd rather take my chances in The Infernal Tournament."

"…All right, then. But don't say I didn't warn you… Guards!"

Two muscular armored beings approached from curtains behind Lucifer. Beings because, underneath the dark black and blood red armor, Palkia couldn't even tell what species they were.

"Yes, my liege?" one of them said.

"Take him to his quarters. And lock him in there until tomorrow morning. He'll meet the rest of the contenders then."

"Yes, master." the other armored creature said.

The two each took one of Palkia's arms. Palkia tried to get his arms out from their grasps, but no success. It came to Palkia that he was either severely weakened, or these guys were stronger than they looked.

"I can walk just fine, thank you very much!" Palkia protested.

"Just want to make sure you don't try to escape. Not that you'd ever find a way out."

"…Well, then."

"Guards! You're dismissed."


The two took the Pokémon out of the extravagant room, outside through a back door, and onto a dusty path. As the duo took Palkia up the path, he decided to take notice of his surroundings.

Ground that was jagged and split in many places. Some cracks were big enough for even Palkia to fall into. But where would you go?

Trees that were on fire and never stopped burning. How on Earth, Palkia wondered, could a tree do that?

Inhuman… things that roamed aimlessly around. They seemed to be dying, with worms burrowing into them, until Palkia remembered that they're already dead. So, what will become of them?

And the sky was still as red as blood.


The Legendary Pokémon found himself forcefully pushed into an extremely small residence. The place was built with sturdy near-indestructible steel, and the metal lined the walls, the ceiling, the floor, and in every conceivable corner. Only two beds were in there, and one of them was preoccupied with the beast in it asleep. The way the building was constructed, it was more of a small, confining prison than a dwelling. Palkia's head was only a foot away from touching the ceiling. Before Palkia could protest, the two shoved him in and quickly shut and locked the door behind him. He tried to get it to open, and even tried physically punching it. Despite his strength, it wouldn't budge. Trying a Dragon Pulse again, it still wouldn't activate. He sighed, and sat down on the unoccupied bed, having resigned himself.

"Great." Palkia sighed to himself. "I die, I get sent to this living nightmare, and I've lost my powers. I'd ask 'what else could go wrong', but then something will."

"…" the beast on the other remained quiet as he slumbered.

Palkia got up from his bed and looked over the beast. The beast wielded the exact same armor as the one who battled Palkia earlier. The sword, on the side of the bed, was the same as well.

"Armaros?" Palkia muttered.

Looking more carefully, Palkia noticed multiple lacerations on Armaros' body. Aside from the ones Palkia had given him, others were indented on his armor. Bent and misshapen, Palkia wondered what could have happened to cause this.

"Uhh…"

Palkia stepped back, ready to fight if needed despite his weakened state.

Armaros sighed and sat up from the bed. "Uhh… man, I feel like a wreck after that… session. Hi Palkia. I heard them toss you in."

"Yeah… hi. What-What happened to your armor? I didn't do that… did I?"

Armaros muttered softly. "No. That wasn't you. That was… Lucifer. For losing and breaking my perfect winning streak."

"Lucifer. You mean the arrogant guy with the dark black wings? Your 'Lord'?"

Armaros shook his head. "Nah. I just call him that to get on the crowd's good side, since the crowd is mostly Lucifer's loyal demons down here. If you make the crowd unhappy… things get worse."

"Why would he do that, though? Do… whatever it was he did to you? You look pretty beaten up."

"…What else do you expect from the guy who refers to himself as 'the angel of darkness'? He does it for kicks."

"…I see what you mean."

"It's hard living here." Armaros confessed. "Day after day after day of endless bloody battling, and the biggest consequences for a single loss. I've never lost a single match until you came along."

"Really. You must be pretty good."

Armaros chuckled weakly. "Yeah. Never really noticed."

"…"

It was silent for 10 more awkward minutes until Palkia wanted an answer to a question of his.

"How did you get down here? Isn't this place for, you know, really bad people?"

"Mm-hmm. Stalin, Hitler, Hussein… they were down here years before you and me. Their bodies have probably decomposed by now. I, on the other hand, am down here for… somewhat similar reasons.

"You want to talk about it?"

"Actually yes. I have wanted to talk about it for a long time, but no one's ever asked me that. You see, I… was an assassin."

"An assassin?"

"Indeed. Killed a lot of people, and animals like me, for a living. I didn't do it to get by; it's not like I was uneducated. But I had a real talent for fighting and murder which I wanted to exploit. It brings me a lot of money."

"Yeah. Most Pokémon in our world are trained for battling, but they're not supposed to murder others. But I suppose one could train them to kill. But then, how did you die?"

"An assassin's mission gone horribly wrong. The last guy I was ordered to assassinate was an extremely powerful businessman that held a lot of influence over my world. My boss wanted him dead, so he could dominate. But… they saw me coming. His security knew I was out to kill him. So… they killed me first. Bullet to the back of the head. At least it was instantaneous. And voila, like that, I'm down here."

"…Is that really enough to be sent down here?"

"I honestly don't know what the 'requirements' are to get sentenced here. But whatever they were, I certainly didn't help my case by taking all of those lives. Some of those souls are probably down here somewhere…"

"…"

"Your turn."

Palkia sighed. He didn't want to recall the brutal memory. But Armaros did explain his back-story to the Pokémon. It was only fair if he did the same.

"My own mother murdered me."

"Your mother? Damn, that's harsh…"

"You see, back in my world, humans invented Pokéballs which… made her more than a little bit mad. But that's a MASSIVE understatement. She had been planning a mass genocide of the entire human race since, and she was ready to execute it in the modern day. I tried to stop her. It… didn't go so well. She… she…"


"A-Are you going to… kill me? You… wouldn't do that to your own son, right?"

SNAP

"I felt my right femur snap. Just like a twig. She snapped it with no effort."

SNAP

"A bone somewhere in my left arm snapped. I couldn't stand it. Not the just the pain, but the fact that my own mother… who raised me from right and wrong… was murdering me."

"Mom… stop it. Please." he begged to no avail. He began to tear at the fact that his own mother, who had raised and taught him right and wrong, was slowing murdering him.

SNAP

"Then my wrist fractured. The physical pain wasn't so bad compared to the emotional and mental state she left me in."

"Mommy…" he pleaded further, breaking down in sole desperation. "It hurts…"

Arceus grinned. "Do you want to know what I have planned for you after you die?"

Palkia couldn't respond, with blood beginning to clog up his throat. Dialga, outside the shield and watching her mother brutally murder her brother, could only look on with a hopeless desire to help him. She silently cried.

"Well, I'll tell you anyway. I'm going to send you to the worst realm in the galaxies that you could never imagine in your most terrifying dreams." she stated calmly.

SNAP

"What she did before she killed me off was rip off my wings. That… was pain like you wouldn't believe. She… crafted those for me personally."

"You WILL learn not to mess with my authority. After all, there's only one way down where you're going. And to seal the deal…" she smiled sadistically again.

"No… mama… plea-"

SNAP


"She snapped my neck as some blood was trying to regurgitate from my mouth. That's how she did it. And she intentionally sentenced me here. That's the hardest thing to believe."

"Wow…" Armaros muttered. "Getting murdered is one thing… but getting your bones and nerves snapped one by one by your own mother is certainly another."

"I still don't understand WHY she did it. That's what I want to know. My mother is… she's not like that. Well, not normally. She's strict, but… never evil. Not like that."

"I don't know what I can say, Palkia. There's not really anything I can do to change what happened. But… you're a better being than I ever was."

"Hey." Palkia turned towards the armored beast. "Thanks."

"No problem. We all need someone to turn to sometimes. We really need to get some rest now. Tomorrow's going to be one hell of a day."

"Yeah."

Palkia tried to, uncomfortably, slip himself into the bed. It was small, and not made for someone of his stature. But, he tried to make do with what he had, and rest up for the events that awaited him the very next day…


Pokémon © Nintendo / Game Freak

A/N: Yes, the fic takes some elements from the Hunger Games / Dante's Inferno (though, I must confess, I have not read the latter). But there will be plenty to help differentiate them, because I don't want to rip them off. Also, yes, I'm taking some artistic licensing with Hell. And I know it doesn't 100% line up with the Bible. To the Christians reading this, PLEASE DON'T KILL ME. However, I will be absolutely sure to capture the general horror that Hell has to offer.

As always, Read and Review!