Chapter inspired by the song: If you're going through hell by Rodney Atkins

It's been a really bad day, like, really bad, Murdoc just realized he was another year older, he's horribly hung over, and worst up all, he's dead! He currently trapped in hell with demons on his back.

"Ge' off, ya damn thin's!" Murdoc threw one of Hell's dogs to a corner and began running. As far as he was concerned, Lucifer didn't know he was there yet, but if he did, Murdoc's ass would be his.

It turns out that a few of the devil's henchmen and gone to the surface and claimed Murdoc's body and dragged him down to hell with them. He didn't have a soul for them to take, so they had to bring the next best thing.

With Hell's hounds at his heals and the devil still unaware of his arrival, Murdoc had to get out of hell before the devil even knew he was there.

Eh, too late.

"MURDOC!" The bassist heard his name, the very tone the voice used shook him to his core. Lucifer knew he was there now, but that wouldn't stop him from trying to escape.

"There's gotta be a way ou'!" Murdoc kept on running, narrowly missing pools of fire and trying to block out the rest of the dwellers' horrid screams.

It was such a dreadful place here and the only reason why nobody left was because they were all chained here. Murdoc shivered despite it being a million degrees in this place. The great Murdoc Niccals was actually scared.

If the bassist knew anything, it was how to escape from tight situations. He knew there was a bit to hell in the basement of Kong studio, he had been in it before, he just had no idea how to get to it.

"Mudz?" A voice from out of no where called.

"What the hell is this...No, babygirl, don't get too close!"

Those voices, it just had to be them! But they wouldn't dare go down there!
"Ya t'ink 'e's in 'ere?"

"Well, I can't imagine him going to Heaven."

"Scary here."

"I know, Noods, I know."

It was them! It just had to be! But, where were their voices coming from.

Murdoc had to time to think as a rain of fire began to shower down on him. He kept running in the direction of the voices, shielding his face from the blaze.

By now, he was nearly blinded by the ash and fire, now running throw explosions all around him. He couldn't carry on any longer and stopped running.

He couldn't see it, but three pairs of arms reached out and grabbed him.

One had thin arms and smelled like butterscotch, the other had tiny arms and smelled like cherry blossoms, and the other's could breaking him in half if they wanted to.