Chains of the Sacrifice
Chapter II: Limbo
There are many myths and stories of people travelling to the afterlife to resurrect those that they lost. There are many names for what lies ahead; Hell, Heaven, Hades, Shamballa, Yomi, Afterlife, Underworld, Agartha, Elysium, Valhalla, Jahannam, Eden, Utopia, and those are just the more popular ones. Each of them are just as real as the last, an hope that there is something after what we are a part of. A descent through each of the abyssal planes warrants nothing less than a hard look at how sins corrupt and why we still commit them.
Previously: "The ground was black as death. The sky was red as blood. The air reeked of fear and anguish. The dimension tasted of rotting flesh. His features relaxed themselves as he took in the feeling of what he had accomplished. What he had achieved.
The only human to break into Hell for over two millennia. All to retrieve what he had lost.
He growled, a slow hum that passed through his mouth that asserted his dominance of the situation. Unsatisfied, he unleashed a roar that echoed through the dimension, alerting all of a newcomer.
Garfield smiled. "I'm here."
Garfield looked around him, trying his best to find out where he was. The ground formed a giant crater, the dirt showing no signs of scouring or scorching, meaning that he made the crater himself. The sky was red as blood, the stars absent from an otherwise clear night. Or it could have been day, he'd never know the difference.
Shocking himself after realizing something important, his hands flew to his back to check if the items he took with him were still there. After touching the medallion hanging on his neck, the horn in his pack, and the metal object at his side, he let out a sigh of relief. As far as he knew, the plan was executed flawlessly.
Sitting down, Garfield entered himself, seeking his other part. A voice came from behind him. "We made it!"
Garfield turned around to see a happy green superhero taking deep breaths and looking around, taking in the full extent of where he was. "You wanted to come here, so here we are."
Beastboy settled down and stared at his doppelgänger. "What does it feel like? Being back home?"
Garfield sat down and stared at the red sky. "This is the first time I've been here, yet it's like I belong." Something caught his eye and he followed it across the sky. He inhaled sharply and stood up. "Let's get going!" He halted for a moment. "Do you want to take it from here?"
Beastboy shrugged. "Might as well." With confirmation from both parties, he walked up to the entity controlling his body and placed a hand on his own shoulder. A surge of energy connected the two and they both shut their eyes from the shock. When Beastboy opened his eyes again, he saw the land as a human.
He scrambled to the top of the crater, gouging small lines in the ground on the way up. Once he reached the surface, he looked in the distance for a direction to follow. A massive line could be seen in the distance, so Beastboy set off, keeping a brisk pace to see what it was.
A good hour into the hike, Garfield emerged, strolling alongside his counterpart. "Why are we walking?" Beastboy asked, trying to get a bit of conversation during the trip.
Garfield cracked his illusionary neck. "Walking's the best way to get somewhere without getting tired."
Beastboy put his hands behind his head and stretched. "Flying's fun!"
Garfield nodded while locking eyes with the original, indicating that he agreed with the statement whole-heartedly. "It really is, but we can't. We are bringing valuable items with us that we can't risk losing."
Beastboy brought his hands to the straps on his shoulders, re-securing the backpack. "Good point."
"There is another reason though..." Garfield looked up in the sky with a small measure of fear in his eyes. "I'm afraid that we wouldn't be the only creature in the sky. Or the biggest."
Continuing on, they walked with a bit more urgency to the structure far away.
Another hour down the path, a small wisp of smoke in the distance alerted Beastboy to its existence. The wisp vanished as quickly as it appeared, but two more were seen even closer. His feline-like eyes could see them as clearly as could be managed.
They seemed to be very defined wisps, certain height, width, and size that was shared between them. More could be seen and they were all the same.
Upon closer inspection, they had edges to them, distinct lines that gave them shapes. He gasped as he realized that the wisps looked like people. Now that he knew what to look for, he could see hundreds of these wisps all around him.
His doppelgänger stepped into view and gazed on the horde of spirits before them. "We entered Hell, right at the entrance. This is the level with the greatest number of souls."
Beastboy looked at the closest one to him, gazing at the souls face. "They look so sad." He said, pity lacing his words.
"They aren't. They aren't happy either. The souls sent here lived without praise or blame, lived an average life and died an average death. They don't rest, yet they don't roil. They're in a state of perpetual nothingness."
Beastboy raised a hand to his chest, making sure his heart was still pumping. "It sounds like Hell." He felt a nudge from his doppelgänger and looked over. He realized what he just said and gave a half-hearted chuckle.
"Everyone's here. Ordinary people, important people, forgotten people, they are all down here. There's something about Hell, the equality of it all that makes it... Fair."
Beastboy knew exactly what his doppelgänger was saying he had seen enough in the world he left to understand the benefits of equality. Just the fact that he was green meant that he knew nothing else. "When you say everyone, do you mean everyone?"
Garfield gave him a hard look. "So long as they weren't bad people. All sorts reside here. There are popes, rabbis, imams, priests, cardinals, cultists, lawyers, politicians,... Even your fellow superheroes end up down here."
Beastboy stopped in his tracks. "Everyone?" The doppelgänger nodded. "Robin and Cyborg?"
"I suppose it would be Victor now, his metal parts were attached to his body, not his soul."
"Steve and Rita?" Beastboy was getting worried now. During the aftereffects of Malchior's meddling, millions died from natural disasters that struck the globe. The Doom Patrol had fallen into a chasm while on a mission in Peru.
"Them too."
"Cliff and Larry?"
Garfield paused. "Robot man didn't have much of a soul to begin with, he could be shut down and activated without much effort. As for Negative Man, he was really just a soul bound to the world. I don't know of either of them are here."
His heart was beating irregularly and his breathing became ragged. He thought that there would be some form of compensation for making it through the harshness of life. Maybe not everyone deserved to get into Heaven, but not everyone deserved to rot in Hell. Two more people crossed his mind, but he didn't have the heart to say their names out loud. He managed to whisper them. "Mom and Dad?"
His counterpart put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."
The apology was comforting, not because it was said at the right time or in the right way, but because it was the unadulterated and indispensable truth. Beastboy just stood in silence, doppelgänger by his side, praying to nothing in particular in the forlorn hope that it would ease their suffering or let them know that they weren't forgotten.
"Judgment day is still going to happen, right?"
The doppelgänger grimaced. "If it does, it's entirely up to 'Him Upstairs'. But let me ask you this: When does a being with both infinite patience and the longevity to support it choose to intervene?"
It didn't take long for the green changeling to come to a conclusion. "Shit."
Garfield gave him a squeeze to let him know that they were in Hell for a reason. Beastboy got the message and sniffed back a stifled sob. He put one foot in front of the other, continuing to journey through the First Circle of Hell.
(Scene Break)
Several thousand denizens of Hell congregated at the arena in the main city, waiting impatiently for the fight to start. This was the main source of entertainment for demons in the city of Dis, a gladiatorial tournament that never ran out of fighters. Traditional battles were fought one on one, two damned souls that ceaselessly tried to get the upper hand. It was not unheard of for hundreds of humans to be pitted against a horde of demons in a massive display of power. The demons always won.
The fifth circle was filled with such arenas, a necessity when the sole requirement to be imprisoned was to be a perpetrator of anger, their eternal suffering determined to fight and be fought against for the enjoyment of others.
Raven took great pleasure in witnessing these acts, the fights were always different and the thrill of not knowing who would live or die was ever-present. She was never partial to sports on Earth, but the effect was much the same. Sitting in a throng of jeering voices was like nothing she had ever experienced before. The tides of a united crowd always battered against her emotional walls, but now she was lost in them, swept away by the infinite harmony of it all.
It had been like this for over two years now. The act of her Father making her his heir changed everything. She was the big cheese in the underworld, the head honcho and sole ruler. Her every word was law, her every glare was a death sentence, and her every point was an order to be obeyed. Every minion and underling was to call her 'Mistress' with no exceptions. She didn't like what the term implied, but she enjoyed the respect that came with it.
A woman that was in control.
A woman that had the power.
A woman that knew others limits and how to surpass them.
A woman who wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.
There was still satisfaction in knowing that she could change anything. By snapping her fingers, she could summon a meal from one of her servants. By clapping her hands, she could quell any argument and distract any congregation. She could do everything short of clicking her heels together and wishing for home. Not that she'd ever want to return.
"Liar."
There was that voice again. Contradictory at every turn. Pestering whenever she did something stupid or bothering her whenever she was paying attention to something else.
She had heard of that little voice of consciousness inside of everyone, but it was way past that. The owner of the voice was persistent, holding onto something she had long since discarded. A memory surfaced in her mind. She used to talk like that.
One of the black fighters decapitated one of the red fighters which earned a massive roar from the stands. It was during this roar that her wars sensed movement behind her.
"Mistress Raven." Another member of the cult of Blood stood before her, female this time, prostrating as they always did. "My Lady has bid me to deliver you to her."
Raven glared at the slave. From the tattoos, she was a servant to one of the lesser demons, a messenger for a daughter of Trigon. Her meetings with other siblings had been few, mainly because they had nothing to discuss. She had met with her brothers and sisters while attending an annual feast, but they just glared at her with envy or wrath. Being the sole heir to Hell didn't sit well with the demons who worked to earn it for millennia.
"Your lady?" Raven demanded.
The slave cringed at the harshness of the question, but continued undaunted. "Yes, mistress. She mentioned that it was important." It gestured to a hallway behind them and walked down it, making sure that Trigon's heir followed.
She was led down corridors and hallways, going deeper into the city until they stopped outside of a worn looking door that was slightly ajar. Noises could be heard within that sounded like muffled screams and merciless pounding. It must have been yet another torture chamber or something. The slave opened it and moved out of the way so that Raven could see inside. What she saw was shocking.
The room was filled with a dozen people on a bed in various stages of undress. The men were almost completely naked, leather covering their eyes and mouths and binding their limbs together. The rest were female, wearing very revealing clothes that slowly came loose with the movements they made. They swarmed around the bound men and had their way, willingly or otherwise. The gags were quite effective at stopping their screams of pain and ecstasy, bindings totally removing any stirring or rolling.
Two of the women were already riding the bound slaves intensely, pounding on the erect members with incredible vigor. The others acted as support, taking turns to massage their breasts or stimulating their bodies while they ruthlessly dominated the male slaves bound to them.
Raven watched the spectacle with a mixture of interest and horror, but didn't notice that the slave that led her down positioned itself behind her. It grabbed her from behind, but not to subdue or aggress. Its hands went straight for her breasts, the quick and experienced motions stunning her and preventing her from hindering or helping the slave.
The slave's fingers attacked her nipples now, rubbing the tips and tweaking them at perfect intervals, bringing a flush to Raven's face. It pressed harder against her, forcing its own breasts into her back and moved around, rubbing fabric against skin. The slave was getting aroused too, its hoarse breath sweeping across her neck and through her hair.
The blood in Raven's body grew hotter every second, reacting to every touch she received. One of the slave's hands ventured lower, dragging itself along her belly while the other took care of her breasts. She could feel the errant fingers reach lower and lower...
Before it could reach its destination, Raven grabbed both of the venturing hands and tore them away from her body, dragging their owner in front of her. The slave girl looked down in shame, but the slightest of smirks was visible in her lips.
"You should have let it finish, sister. The girl works wonders!" Raven looked forwards to see another one of her siblings, looking back at her with carefully cropped violet hair and crimson eyes. The woman let a hand drift past her navel. "I should know, I taught it myself."
Raven squinted at the newcomer. She seemed very familiar. Her face was easily recognizable, but her aura was very distinctive. The way she spoke, the way she walked, how her hips constantly moved, how she wore what little clothing adorned her figure. "You're..."
The sultry daughter of Trigon smiled. "Yes, I met you upon your entry to this... wonderful place. What has it been, a year?"
Raven crossed her arms. "Closer to three. What do you want?"
The demon nodded her head towards a room through the back and walked towards an open door, Raven following suit. The room they entered was much the same as the other, but the bed in that one wasn't occupied. As they passed the threshold, her sister closed the door, silencing the orgy in the next room. "To see you, my dear! You're settling into your role rather nicely."
"And how do you know about my role? Why have you taken so long to see me again? And what do I call you?"
Her sister strolled behind a worn leather seat, massaging the top before resting her very toned rear on it. "So many questions sister. It's a good thing that I have all the answers for you!"
Raven merely raised an eyebrow.
"As you just saw, I am the purveyor of... desires most extreme. They come to me and pay for the services I offer."
"There's no money in Hell." Raven stated. She had been an occupant for long enough to know the basic way that demonic society operated and there was no economy to speak of. Hell had no shortage of slaves. They did all of the work, provided the food, and were the primary source of entertainment, violent or otherwise.
Her sister smiled and a gleam flashed across her eyes. "I deal in information. I knew of your arrival the second it happened. I was told of your position the moment you slipped into it. I even know of your... frequent trips to the lake Cocytus, though I don't know what the purpose is. Perhaps you could tell me of it, in exchange for my services." She gave a suggestive wink and pressed her arms closer to her chest, making her already large breasts seem even bigger.
Raven stood unmoving, keeping a deadpan look on her face. She wasn't about to tell her darkest secret to just anybody. "No." The answer was finite. Appropriate. "You still haven't told me your name."
A faked look of shock adorned the demons face. It faded as quickly as it was put on. "Fine. I am known as many things, but a particular favorite is Asmodea, Daughter of Trigon, Princess of Lust and Ruler of the Second Circle of Hell. Call me what you will."
Raven took a quick glance at her body. The black clothes she was wearing covered every part of her body, a single garment that ran from shin to shoulder. The fabric wasn't seamless though, it was worn and torn in a deceivingly random pattern.
There were rips and tears in all the right places, revealing rosy flesh by the hips and the legs, one showing a fair amount of her completely natural cleavage. Even Raven felt minutely aroused in her presence, blood moving around to suit the mood. This is what she could look like if she spent any time satisfying her more primal and lustful desires.
"How long has our father been the ruler of Hell?" Raven asked. There was no way that she would get an answer out of anyone else.
Asmodea looked upwards, trying to remember. "Long before I was born, so a few thousand years at least. Lucifer had all the power before h came along and claimed everything."
Raven was surprised to hear Satan's real name. She always thought that religion had no basis on the actual afterlife. "What happened to him? Is he dead?"
She laughed loudly, filling the room with an angelic song. "Nothing like that! He's on Earth, running a nightclub in L.A!"
Raven scoffed at the idea herself. The most infamous angel in history that tried to rebel against God and he spends his time on Earth selling alcohol to the weak and weary. Shaking the picture of the Devil singing on a microphone out of her head, she remembered that she had places to be. "You didn't bring me here to see how I was doing."
Her face lost all emotion as she realized what her original intention was. It was a serious matter, one that could be devastating as a worst case scenario. "Souls have been disappearing from their torments. Demons are missing from their posts. There are whispers of a shift of power rising. A new player for the game we play."
Raven seemed unimpressed by the news, though Asmodea was terrified. The Princess of Lust shuffled closer to her sister. "Our father didn't want to enter your world to conquer. He wanted to leave the world he was losing control of."
It was at that point that the information hit home for her. It never occurred to her that Trigon could be running away from Hell instead of towards Earth. Any problem that affected the lord of Terror would have to be dealt with personally. Raven vowed to get to the bottom of it. If she was to survive in this realm, she would remove every threat. She was more powerful than her father could ever be and it was time she showed that she was worthy of her inheritance.
Asmodea saw the conviction in her sibling's eyes and finished. She gave just enough information to be acted upon and that was sufficient. " And that's all I know. You came in at an unstable time, sister."
Feeling that her business was complete, Raven turned around to leave.
"Where do you think you're going?" Asmodea demanded. Her voice was firm with a hint of playfulness. "We aren't done here!"
Raven turned around and stared at her sister, who was now walking to the center of the room. "You told me what you knew and now I'm going to deal with it."
Asmodea purred. "Nothing is ever free my dear. I gave you information," She moved to the large circular bed in the middle. "You have to give me something in return."
Raven narrowed her eyes, a nagging suspicion telling her what would happen. "What do you want from me?"
Her sister slowly and sensually sat down on the very comfortable bed. "Lie with me this night." She did everything possible to increase her appeal. She puckered her lips slightly, pushed out her bosom, opened her legs to entice her, and use her hands to push any stray hairs away from her alluring eyes.
Raven just stared at her, unchanging and unimpressed. "No." She stated matter-of-factly.
Asmodea rubbed the spot beside her with her hands. "It'll feel good, I promise." She lowered her head in an attempt to be more arousing. "I'll be gentle."
Raven blinked twice, making it clear that she wasn't changing her opinion.
She jumped up on the bed and pleaded. "Please?" After receiving no indications to suggest that her sibling was interested, she decided to try something else. "How about this. A two minute snog and we're even?"
The very thought shocked Raven and she just held her mouth open. A small squeak of protest emitted from Raven's chest. "No!"
Asmodea shuffled forwards a few inches. "Hump your leg for five minutes?" She asked hopefully.
Raven immediately turned around and hurried out of the room before she got pulled into something she would later regret, leaving her sister alone on the bed.
Breathing a sigh of exasperation, she slumped back on the bed in defeat. She would get compensated somehow. She snapped her fingers and immediately the slave she sent to retrieve Raven rushed into the room. The slave looked a bit disheveled and from the moisture between its legs, it was obvious that the slave was masturbating in the room right next to them.
Forgoing the traditional punishment for pleasuring itself without permission, Asmodea merely opened her legs. The slave knew what it meant and immediately rushed forwards, eager to please its master. The fabric covering its masters legs only served as a minor hindrance, direct contact wasn't needed for foreplay... Yet.
In the middle of the light petting, a thought occurred to the princess of Lust. "Are you still loyal to me?" She directed to the slave between her legs. It merely responded by renewing its vigor towards the Demoness before it. "My sister left before I could tell her of another incursion into our dimension. Prepare departure for our realm. I would like to meet this new guest before Raven gets her claws on him."
(Scene Break)
It took many hours of walking, but Beastboy finally reached the structure in the distance. It didn't take much of his deductive ability to determine that it was a wall. A massive wall that stretched for an eternity in both directions.
The part of the wall that he approached was easily recognizable, a large gate that towered far beyond anything he could ever imagine. The door lining the gate seemed relatively unremarkable, ignoring the sheer size of it. The doppelgänger stared up with wonder, casting his gaze across the width of the frame.
To Beastboy, it didn't really spark anything, a bit of red haze he assumed would be clouds or blood splattered on it. The latter wouldn't be too far from the realm of possibility as it was the Gate to Hell, a barrier keeping the bad people in and the good people out.
No matter how much he justified the situation to himself, Beastboy couldn't help but notice his doppelgänger's fascination with the door. "Do you see something?" He asked, hoping to get an answer.
Garfield just stood by, in shock from what he was gazing upon. "You can't?" He replied. His demonic nature let him see things the way they were meant to be seen. To him, the most terrible words were transcribed on the frame, archaic phrases that struck fear and awe into him.
The superhero looked closely at it, squinting to try and make the haze clear. Three words appeared to him, unrecognizable unless he actually looked for them. He sounded them out one by one.
"Life and Death." The phrase struck a familiar chord with him, a memory that he should have remembered, but couldn't. "I've been here before."
A deep rumbling started emitting from the door. The massive door began to open, metal grating against gravel and itself, creating an ungodly screech. A sliver of light peeked from the slowly opening door, growing wider by the second.
Beastboy stood back, unsure what would emerge or if the gates were opening for him. Once the gate opened wide enough to fit a person, it cane screeching to a halt. The clinking of boots could be heard and a figure emerged from the other side of the gate.
The white clothes weren't too distinctive and the boots themselves weren't very unique, but when Beastboy saw the red sunglasses, he realized that it couldn't be anyone else. "Kid Eternity." He breathed, in shock that he even knew the name.
"Beastboy." He returned.
Shaking himself to his senses, he thought of a good rebuttal. "'Kid'? I'd have thought it would have been 'Man' or 'Grandpa' Eternity by now."
The figure chuckled. "Says the one who still goes by Beast 'Boy'."
The shapeshifter laughed out loud. "Good point. You look better without the chains."
"Are you sure you want to do this? It won't end up like you think."
Beastboy squinted at the dead hero, wary that he knew of the plan. "I'd ask how you know, but I'm not sure I'd like the answer. I'm not turning back if that's where you're going."
Kid Eternity shrugged. "A kindness then. Name anybody you would like to see again, so long as they're no longer alive."
He scratched his chin for a moment. "I guess that it would be too easy to summon Raven."
Kid Eternity merely smiled. "And the mistress is still alive."
Beastboy's eyes widened as he heard the term of endearment given to his former teammate. A shiver ran up his spine as he recognized the tone when the name was said. It was a mixture of fear and respect, two things that he never thought could be applied to Raven.
Another thought occurred to him. "Mom and Dad... Mark and Marie Logan."
It seemed so impersonal to say his parents' real names, but he wanted to be clear. He wanted to see them again. One last time.
Kid Eternity raised his hands and spoke in a commanding tone of voice. "Eternity!" He rumbled, forcing the souls of Beastboy's parents to emerge before him. Shades similar to the ones roaming in the fields behind them appeared, becoming more corporeal by the second. Soon, the faces and bodies were recognizable, wearing the same clothes that they wore before the accident.
Beastboy had tears in his eyes at that point. The very thought of his parents within arm's reach pushed him over his emotional boundaries, memories of his childhood flooding back to him with frightening force. "Is it you?" He managed to stutter out.
His parents just stood in their place, faces unchanging and bodies unmoving. They stared ahead with emerald eyes, dull and unintelligent. They were just husks of people, a memory that had been forced into existence when it should have stayed dead.
"It was tough without you, but I made it. I've missed you so much." More tears welled up in his eyes as he came up on what he wanted to say for so long. "I'm sorry I didn't save you. I should have been able to. I should have tried harder. I've saved so many people in my life, but it still isn't enough. Goodbye." Beastboy brought his hand up to the faces of his parents, wanting to touch them. To remember them.
"Eternity!" The deceased hero commanded once more, dissipating the spirits of his parents. There was some closure in the encounter, a sense of finality that he never felt before in his life. Refreshed and renewed in the determination to continue, Beastboy followed Kid Eternity through the door into Hell, descending into the Circle of Lust.
To be continued.
A little taste from the comics in this one. I'll be taking a lot for granted in the story. I won't follow a single version of the underworld, but I'll be taking elements from all of the stories I've read and heard. And Asmodea is just a minor character, just as a helper for Beastboy's journey.
Next chapter involves Beastboy travelling through the realm of Lust. A lemon will be included just because of the situation. I also need to make sure that this story deserves the 'M'.
Amenson out.