Right!

Chapter Two! Not yet the longest, but still, it took a lot of time to write. This one is in Hell and Kyle gets to see a familiar face, well, two actually. Hope you like!

Without further ado, read on, chers lecteurs.

The first thing I felt when I came to my senses was the overwhelming heat and dryness of the place. I opened my eyes to see dark stone ground under my face. I sat up and rubbed at my head, feeling an intense headache that made my head pound and nauseous. I squeezed my eyes shut again and bent down. After a few minutes, the headache finally subsided a bit and I was able to take in my surroundings.

I was in a plain of black stone that was, judging by the proximity of the lake of molten lava that was just a few feet from me, most likely solid magma. I looked up and saw that there was no sky, really, just a screen of darkness that extended on forever. Strangely, there were a few plants and trees in the distance, away from the lake. Over there, I could see people walking around and talking, going about their daily business in Hell.

I slowly stood up, felling dizzy as if I'd been thrown down here from the surface, wich probably was the case. Once on my feet, I trudged over to what seemed to be a park.

Honestly, it wasn't much different from the surface. People were walking and talking on the benches, holding hands and laughing. Some even had pets and children with them. But what struck me the most was the state that these people were in: some had knives sticking out from there chest, others had their throat slashed and bloody, or even some had members of their body missing, like and arm or a leg, sometimes both.

My eyes widened in shock of seeing them like this, then to realizing how I myself must look. Stan had said that I was blue and frozen. I mustn't be that bad, though, I only drowned. I didn't blow my brains out with a gun, like the guy who just passed me apparently did. I shuddered.

"Why hello!" a cheery voice said from behind me. I spun around to face it. "You must be new here, I assume? I can see by the looks your giving to these souls," he said with a smile.

He was a blonde man, very thin-looking with bony features and bright baby blue eyes. He wore old fashioned clothes, something like they wore in the eighteen hundreds, perhaps. He had a red bow tie at his neck and wore a little black cap. He also sported a British accent when he spoke. For some reason, this man was vaguely familiar to me.

"So, dear, how did you end up here?" he asked sweetly.

I stared at him and frowned slightly before answering. "I drowned, apparently... I can't remember the past three days, really..."

"Apparently? Oh that's terrible!" He exclaimed. "You're not even sure of how you died." he clapped a hand on my shoulder comfortingly and smiled. "If it makes you feel any better, I was crushed by a giant mechanical dinosaur."

"Holly shit, dude! That's horrible!" I said. "But if you were crushed, then how come you look normal?" I inquired.

"Ah, you see, in death you can change your appearance as much as you like, be it your clothes or your age. I died when I was only nine years old and here I appear to be your age, around seventeen, right?" I nodded. "But most people down here don't know that and those who do often choose to stay as they died because it looks 'cool' or some such nonsense." he shrugged and his hand fell from my shoulder.

"Yeah, I noticed that." I looked at my hands and saw that they were a normal tint, not blueish. I shook my head and asked, "I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?"

"Oh! I don't believe I've said it yet. What horrible manners I have. My name is Philip Pirrip, but everyone calls me Pip, instead."

Yes! Of course! Pip! How could I forget? He was the one that everyone always ripped on in elementary because he was British and some shit. I had always been secretly opposed to that practice, but then again, I valued my friendships with the three others as well. So I'd said nothing.

My expression must've changed because he asked me shortly after, "You seem strangely familiar to me. Have I ever seen you before somewhere? Perhaps during life? Though that is highly unlikely. But your hat..." he trailed off.

"Kyle Broflovski," I said.

Pip stared at me for a moment and his face became one of delight as recognition flashed in his blue eyes. "Kyle! Ah yes! Kyle, old chap! Now remember you!" He pulled me on for a hug and I gladly accepted, loving the human contact. He pushed away after some time and a frown marred his delicate features. "But, how on earth did you ever end up here? As far I knew, you were always the sane and rational one of your friends, not one to throw yourself in a pond for no reason."

"That is something that I myself would like to know," I replied.

"How strange," he said. "Oh! But perhaps Damien could help us!"

"Damien?" I repeated.

"Yes! You remember the young chap with the dark hair and red eyes? The one who turned Kenneth into a platypus when he got angry," he supplied.

"Oh yeah! Him. And how come you remember Kenny's name but not me?" I asked.

"Ah, he is a frequent visitor of Hell, our dear Kenneth,"

"Really?" I said confusedly.

"Yes, yes, he comes here once a week or so. He's been twice this week, poor soul. It's a shame he's always getting killed."

"What?"

He took my arm and led me down the path in the spars trees and said simply, "You'll see soon enough."

I went to say something but the words died in my mouth as we found ourselves in front of a huge wrought iron gate, with two huge, snarling dragon statues standing guard on either side. They were sculpted so beautifully and detailed that they almost seemed real, living. As the gates opened, I swore that I saw the left one twitch and follow me with it's gaze. I hurried up and followed Pip inside the yard with a chill passing down my back.

Once past the gates, the scenery changed so drastically, I thought I was back on the surface again. The yard was made to rival the grandeur of one of the great gardens in Versailles, with all the exotic plants and the statues that decorated the place. High hedges and colorful flowers seemed to go on for miles on end, their smell almost overpowering the stench of sulfur that hung in the air, ever present. The sight of such life in this desolate place really was quite special and magnificent.

The path we were walking along lead to a huge, dark mansion, the building materials most likely made of obsidian, if the environment was anything to go by. It looked much like the castle of the vilain in a fairy tale movie that I watched when I was toddler, the tall spires and menacing aura that came from it. I stumbled briefly at the thought that I had to enter it, but caught myself in time before the British man noticed anything.

"Pip, where are we going?" I asked curiously.

"Why, we're going to see Damien at his house," he replied. "Though technically it's his father's house. He rarely comes out, so it's best if we go see him ourselves."

"Huh, okay..." I trailed off, unsure.

"It's been much better since Satan sent Sadam to Heaven. Oh, how he was a pain, always recking havoc and putting us through Hell, no pun intended. A true splinter in the thumb, that one. Since then we've had peace and quiet, with only the howls of pain from the prisoners ringing through the halls." He turned to look at me and laughed at the horrified expression that I made. "Haha! I'm sorry, I just had to. No, he doesn't do that in the mansion, but he has a place closer to the actual Gates of Hell to torture the sinners. You and I are a few of the lucky ones who didn't pass through there, thankfully."

"Yeah, had enough of a headache when I landed here in the first place." I responded.

"Yes," he chuckled. "I know what you mean."

By now, we had reached the doors and Pip simply pushed open the great carved doors effortlessly, despite him being only a fraction of their size. Inside, I gawked at the grandeur of the place. I truly did feel like I was in one of the books I read often.

The main Hall was made of the same stone as the rest of the building, but it contained crimson highlights from the numerous torches that lit the vast room amongst the many carvings, depicting scenes of war and death, that ran along the walls and pillars. The latter reached from the floor to the high ceiling, carvings of demons and gargoyles climbing them, so beautifully designed that they seemed to live as I walked past them, their stone eyes following me. I stopped by one in marvel and took in the details. It was a snarling demon, it's sharp fangs exposed as it's lips were pulled back. Long horns extended to either side of it's head, adding menace to the sculpture. It's face was somewhat resembling that of a man's, but it also had a feline look to it, mostly due to the feral snarl it sported.

I went on to observe the next and was just as facinated by it, as it was different but nonetheless magnificent. Eventually I lost sight of Pip and I slightly panicked when I couldn't find him.

"Pip!" I called out.

"Broflovski," a voice growled behind me, obviously not the one I was looking for.

I spun around and was face to face with Damien, his red eyes glaring at me menacingly. He was as dark as I remembered, the only thing that had seemingly changed about him was his age: he appeared to be around my age as well, as if he'd also grown up in time. Of course, I knew that was not possible in Hell, so I found it slightly strange that he take on this appearance instead of an older and more developed one.

However, I didn't linger on these thoughts as his sight sent chills down my spine, as he was not the same nine year old boy I knew, and I was somehow afraid for my life, even though I was dead.

"H-hey, Damien," I stuttered.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. "Who let you in?"

"I-I was with Pip a-and we were l-looking f-for you..." I took a step backwards when he came closer. I could almost se the fire in his eyes, and it was scary as fuck.

"You-"

"Damien!" the Brit's cheery voice cut him off be for he could say more. "There you are! I was looking for you all over!"

"Why did you bring him here?" the demon turned him, his voice a little softer.

"Because, dear, Kyle has a little problem and I thought that you or your father might be able to help him." he explained as he tugged on his sleeve to bring him over to where I was standing. I didn't fell as menaced by his presence with Pip here, so I managed to stay there.

"How can we help him? With what?" He spat.

Pip paid no attention to his tone. "You see, Kyle here has died of some mysterious reason. Apparently he threw himself into Stark's Pond and his friends found his dead body three days ago."

"So? He just killed himself because he was tired of his shit life. I can't say I blame him-"

"No! You don't understand!" he insisted and shook his arm that was still in his grip. "He doesn't remember doing it or the three days that followed his death."

"That true?" Damien asked me.

"Yes, it's true," I replied. "I just remember waking up this morning and after the world went on ignoring me, the only person who could see me, Kenny, told me-"

"McCormick!?" the demon spat the name out like it was poison and recoiled.

"Now, now, dear, it's only Kenneth, he hasn't done anything wrong." Pip soothed.

"He told me I was dead and to go to Hell if I wanted answers." I finished, taking a step away from Damien's seething glare.

"And that's why I thought you could help." the Brit finished himself.

The demon's fiery gaze cooled a little when he spoke next. "Let's go somewhere more comfortable to discuss," he said and spun around, walking away into a dark corridor.

We both followed him without word into the passageway that was devoid of any lighting whatsoever. This didn't bother me, however, because I had no trouble seeing in the darkness. We walked for a while until we came out into a large room, wich could serve as either a ballroom or a dining room, as the grand carved table in the center indicated.

We each took a seat around it, Damien at the head, Pip to his right and me to his left. Out of nowhere, a silver tray with what looked like tea appeared right before my eyes, in the middle of us three. I looked up and the British teen said,

"Care for a refreshment?"

I nodded and he poured me a cup of jasmine tea. I shook my head when he asked if I wanted sugar. He served me the cup and I held it, taking the warmth in, because I felt chilled despite my surroundings. He did the same for Damien and himself and when everything was set back, the demon spoke up.

"You say that you don't remember dying and that you have no memories if the past three days, right?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"Pip, didn't my father say that he'd wanted to attack Heaven three days ago?" he turned to him.

"I believe so, yes. Why?" I could see the confusion on his features and I felt as he looked.

"Then it was prophecy," he stated simply, taking a sip if his tea.

"What?" we asked in unison.

"There was a prophecy that said that if the One With the Three Curses were to die three days before his Day of Birth, Heaven would gain complete immunity from the forces of Hell, rendering Satan powerless towards God, and would remain as such for eternity." he explained.

"The One With the Three Curses?" I asked, vaguely aware that I'd heard that somewhere before.

"Yes. Jewish, Ginger and Jersey." he said.

"That's absurd, exactly the same bullshit that I would expect from Cartman... Oh shit," I stopped myself.

Cartman had once told him the same thing, eight years ago, when the Jersey people were invading the world. I'd told him that it was a load of crap because I wasn't born in Jersey, but in South th Park. Of course, I proved him right by 'transforming' into a Jersey myself to save his fat ass. Only he'd called it the Curse of the Three J's: Jewish, Jersey and Jinger (because he can't spell 'ginger' right).

"What's wrong, Kyle?" Pip asked, concerned.

"Cartman told me the exact same thing years ago, except he'd called it the Curse of the Three J's."

"Did he say anything else?" Damien inquired.

"Only that he couldn't trust me a and that they needed to kill me before I betrayed them," I said flatly.

"It was pure coincidence, then," the demon said.

"OK, so what do we do about it?" Philip asked.

"What the fuck do you want me to do about it?" he spat.

"Well, we could find out why he threw himself in the pond, for one," he replied evenly.

"Why does he care?"

"Because it would give him some closure."

"What the fuck is there to close? He's dead. Simple."

"That's easy for you to say!" the blonde shouted. "You were never alive in the first place!"

"And I'm fucking happy about it, too!" they rose from their chairs and sank down in mine."I never wanted to be!"

Pip looked as if he would jump on Damien at any moment, so I spoke up.

"I don't care why I died." I said plainly, because I truly didn't. "I just want to get back to life."

Damien looked at me incredulously and burst out laughing, the sound echoing off the high ceiling and dark walls, adding a sinister element to his laughter. I stood up and waited patiently for it to subside. After a few minutes, it finally did and he looked into my eyes with his blazing stare.

"How stupid are you? To think that God would accept to send you back. Was it McCormick that told such nonsense?" he was still chuckling.

"No, it wasn't Kenny. I just want to go back. I need to go back..." I said.

"Yeah, you and almost every other soul down here. Forget it, ain't gonna happen, Broflovski." he stated flatly, though mirth still sparkled his orbs. My heart sank at his words.

"But surely there must be something we can do!" the blonde cried. "We must try something, at the very least!" he pleaded Damien.

The demon looked at him long and hard, clearly thinking this through. After a moment, he shrugged and said, "We could go see my father, see if he would be willing to talk to God." He flare in my chest. "But I'm not assuring anything out of this. Now come." He turned and strode away, out of the chamber and into yet another dark corridor, Pip practically bouncing with joy as he followed.

We soon reached what apeared to be Satan's private quaters, deep within the mansion. We stood at the huge double doors while we waited for a servant to open them.

I examined them while I waited. On them was carved the satanic cross with a fire-breathing dragon wound around the main part, it's huge wings spread wide from the end of one door to the other. It was carved directly into them and in the dim lighting of the torches, it seemed that the gold was simply a part of the stone and not added afterwards.

I marveled there until I was disturbed from my reverie as the doors opened and we entered.

Satan was siting on a spiked, metal throne that looked terribly uncomfortable, discussing something with what was probably his advisor that was cloaked at his side. They were speaking in a hushed and hurried manner and stopped when we approached. He dismissed his servant and gave us his attention.

"What brings you here, son?" his voice boomed in the chamber.

"We have something to ask you, Father. Well he does, anyway," he pointed to me.

I cleared my voice timidly, a little intimidated by Satan. After all, it wasn't every day that one saw the devil himself. "Well, you see, um..." I tried to find the right words.

"He was the One With the Three Curses that prevented you from attacking Heaven, three days ago." Pip finished for me. "We were wondering if it was possible to send him back to life, since the prophecy has been completed and we have no use for him down here."

"And what makes him so special that he would have the right to return to the living?" he inquired.

"Well, he's a friend of Kenneth's, for one..." the blonde searched for more reasons, but none more were needed.

"Kenny? Ah, but of course I could help his friend! He's helped me so much and I haven't repaid him yet." he sat up straighter in his throne. "I'll see what I can do, even if I'm not on the best speaking termes with God, right now."

"Thank you!" I said, bowing down.

"Get up, boy." the Devil chuckled. "No need to thank me yet. Now go, all of you, I have work to do." he dismissed us.

We exited the room, Pip and I, while Damien stayed back to tall privately with his father. After walking for a while in many twisting corridors, we finally came to a halt in front of a dark door and though it was smaller than the ones to Satan's chambers, it was no less impressive.

It, too, had the satanic cross and the dragon, but it was smaller and the gold was absent, even in the torchlight.

"This will be your room for the time of your stay here. You'll find everything you need inside and I if you should ever want something, simply ring the bell on the table and a servant will be there." Pip said to me, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Thanks. You don't know how much this means to me," I smiled genuinely.

"You're most certainly welcome! Just because we're in Hell doesn't mean that we're all bad people. I'd always do a anything for a friend," He paused and seemed to debate something in his mind before asking, "If you don't mind my asking, why is it that you want to return to surface so badly? Because I truly do agree with what Damien says about it being worst that here."

I took the handle and replied simply, "Life is a bitch, but love is worst." Because it always calls you back, no matter how hard you try to ignore it or if you simply don't see it even though it's been at your side all along, I thought for myself and entered my room.

The first thing that hit me as I walked in was the familiarity of it. I was back in my room, in my house. I gaped in shock. What the fuck?! How was this possible!? I turned to demand an explanation from Pip, but the blonde had already disappeared from sight.

I examined my surroundings further to find that it was exactly like it, down to the very last details, like how my clothes were lying around and how my math books were spread out on my desk in front of my window. Christ, it even smelled like my room. I slowly walked over to the glass as I marveled and looked outside. The view wasn't like on the surface, of course, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

It gave out onto a cherry blossom garden and the trees were in full bloom, the pink petals floating in the warm breeze that blew in the branches. Mixed amongst them were almond blossoms, their white flowers specks of white, creating a sea of soft petals on the ground. Through the garden I could see a stone path winding in the small forest.

I stood there, mezmerized for what felt like long minutes before the sudden urge to go walk among them was upon me. I turned from my window and thought of how I would get there, since I was completely lost in this place. My gaze landed on the silver bell that rested on my nightstand and I picked it up, gently ringing it. It had a cristalline sound to it that was quite particular and enjoyable to the ear.

Not a minute later, a knock was made at my door. I opened it up to a tall man with shoulder length jet black hair and red eyes, much like Damien, except he looked much nicer than the latter. He had a slim face and elegance in his movements, like a professional butler of a sort. Though he had a dangerous gleam in his gaze that wasn't masked by the casual smile across his features.

"What are your wishes, Master Broflovski?" he asked with a British accent.

"Master Broflovski?" I repeated, not quite disliking the way it sounded.

"Yes, it is only polite for me to call you that for the time of your stay here. Or would you rather I call you something else?" he asked.

"Just Kyle would be fine," I decided.

"Very well, Kyle. What is it that you wish of me?"

"I want to go into the garden, the one with the cherry blossoms, outside my window."

"Of course," he smiled and turned. "Follow me."

I did as I was told and followed him through another long series of twisting, dark corridors, until we were on a wide terrasse of a sort overlooking a Japanese rock garden and the blossoms just past that. A stone path conected the two, all the way through the garden.

"Shall I leave you?" the butler asked.

"Yes, thank you," I dismissed.

I strode down the path, past the stones and into the forest. All around me, pink and white petals flew down, softly brushing my skin and falling into my hair. The air here seemed pure and serene, strangely, considering in what realm I was. I enjoyed the peace as I walked and I let my mind wander a bit.

The first one to come to mind was the lyrics to a song that I'd heard long ago. You're a cherry blossom, you're about to bloom. You look so pretty, but you're gone so soon. Then next one was that of Stan confessing his love for me. I smiled as I remembered when I'd realized when I felt the same.

We were in fourth grade, it was the time when we had to take care of the egg that Mr. Garrison (or was it Mrs. Garrison?) had given us as a project. I was really disappointed that I had been paired with Wendy, and I thought that it was extremely weird the way that Stan was acting because if it. He'd been so cold to me in those times, but the cheery on top was when he'd said my hat was stupid. That really hurt. I'd been so worried about his comment that after we'd proven Garrison wrong about gay mariage, I'd asked him about it. He'd responded by putting his hand on my shoulder and saying it was the finest hat he'd ever seen. That had truly touched me, and strangely, it was then that I realized that I loved this guy and that I would love him no matter what happened. I'd never told him anything because I treasured our friendship and I didn't want to take the risk of ruining it. I did well by doing so, because apparently Stan only came to his senses three years later, in seventh grade.

I chuckled fondly at the memory. Then another thought passed through my mind. Kenny. He was a strange one, that guy. He's the only one who could see me dead and also the one that suggested that I go to Hell. How? Why? And them there was the comment Pip made about Kenny being a frequent visitor and Satan saying that he would help any friend of Kenny's. Something made me think that he was no ordinary kid. I would ask Pip and Damien about it next time I saw them.

I wandered in the garden for a few hours until I got tired and I returned to my room, this time without the help of anyone. It was haunting, the exactitude of it. I shrugged out of my shirt, stepped out my pants and shoes and fell into my bed, my head hitting the pillow.

I was out in a matter of seconds.

...

In the next few hours after my sleep (what I assumed to be a few days in the surface, with no real way to tell time down here), Pip came to get me and brought me back to Satan's chambers.

He and Damien were waiting patiently for me, and there was a third figure to the Devil's right that I didn't recognize. When he turned to face me, I saw that he had shaggy brown hair with caramel colored eyes and a cigarette that hung from his lips. His face was sharp and angular, with a rough stubble that coated his cheeks and chin. He was dressed in a green shirt and black pants and small shovel hung at his hip. He also had wings, wich led me to believe that he was either one of those people who knew about the appearance thing, or he was an angel.

Then it dawned on me.

"Christophe?!" I exclaimed.

"Hm?" he grunted as he saw me. "Oo are you?"

"It's me, Kyle!" I took a step towards him, my arms outstretched.

"Kyle? I don't know you... wait... Kyle?" recognition flashed through his eyes and he met me in an embrace.

"It's been a long time, Mole." I said when we parted.

"Indeed, eet 'as." he replied.

"I always wondered what happened to you after that night, at the execution. You died in my arms and just disappeared without a word after that." I chuckled.

"Ha! As fate would 'ave eet, God made me one of ees angels. One of ees special ones, at zat. Sends me to do all kinds of sheet, lazy fucker zat 'e ees." he said bitterly.

"Then if your an angel, what are you doing down here?" I asked.

"I don't know, I just arrived 'ere an 'our ago. God sent me saying zat I had to bring someone from 'ere to 'Eaven. Said zat Satan knew who 'e was talking about." he shrugged and looked to the latter.

The Devil spoke. "Yes, here he is. It's Kyle that you are to bring back." he turned to me. "Take care and good luck with your quest. I've done all I can to help you. The rest is in yours and God's hands."

"Again, thank you so much," I said to him.

"I'll find a way to see you again," Pip said, "And if not, then hopefully it'll be at least another eighty years before you come back."

I smiled, "Will do, Philip. Bye Damien," I waved to him.

"Hn," was all he grunted.

"Well eef you are all done," Christophe spoke up, slightly impatient. "We should probably get going. I don't know wat you want wit' God, but eet must be important. Let's go." He put a hand on my shoulder.

The world around me faded and was replaced by blackness that enveloped me blissfully.

Yay! Finished! Hope you enjoyed. Any and all feedback is very, VERY, apreciated. Also, I'd like to thank my two reviewers and my follower for being there. It really makes my day when I wake up in the morning and see a new review or a follower for my stories.

As last time, flames will be used to keep me warm.

Sayonara!