Ever had the chance to be guided around someone's personal Hell? With Délarbé as your guide? What first test does Krystal have to go through in this partial chapter?

Chapter 14-1: Tour de Diablè

The darkness of the hole isn't very assuring about where she's going. It feels like hours since she has seen some kind of light. Her eyes did have the chance to adapt to the near non-existent lightening and frankly, the environment as well. The way forward has a dark blue-ish gleam, as if it was wet all the time. The cramped space is ragged and looks like the inside of twister-shaped, curly wormhole. Because the road ahead of her goes is not in a straight line. Instead, it follows weird and twisted paths. She walked through a corkscrew seen in roller-coasters, walked on the ceiling as gravity shifts from time to time. Without warning.

She hit her head pretty bad one time when she wasn't paying attention. She feels her ring, that isn't there anymore. During one of the gravity shifts, the gravity shifted towards the ceiling because there was a large hole in the floor before her. In a moment of clumsiness, it slipped off her finger and dropped into the hole where it was swallowed. No, literally. She heard something gulp it down.

Her ring finger feels empty without the ring. It's like another person, caring about her, is out of her life. 'When is this gonna end?' she questions to herself as she feels the emptiness of finger aside for a while. She wouldn't want it to turn into a tic of hers.

Eventually, her questioning seems to be answered when around the corner several stones stick out of a wall blocking her path. 'This is... like a climbing wall, right? Only without the safety features.' she notices a little disappointed.

Light is seen atop of the wall coming from the exit of this claustrophobic pitfall. For her a reason to climb up the stones even without the luxury of safety. *This is Hell. What did I expect?*

She climbs up the stones, just hoping they will not break off. With some trouble, she helps herself on top of the wall. As she's stands upon it, she is temporarily blinded when the light is a thousand times stronger than anything she had her eyes adjusted to shines on her face. She pushes on and with her arm overshadowing her eyes she comes closer to the light.

But the light was a deceiving one: instead of the outside world where civilization is, like thought, she is once more in Hell. Just another part, just another path. The path ahead of her leads towards a stairwell. On its turn, leading down further into the underground. As if this "top side" wasn't bad enough. It's beneath the shadow of a large, pointy rock looking like the front side of a 17th century enormous sail-ship that stranded in between two boulders. The front is open and looks like a gaping mouth waiting to swallow its prey. A wide-screen of fire runs from boulder to the sides of the area, on both sides creating a wall she can't climb. The thick black smoke coming from it clouds up on the ceiling and slowly sprawls itself out all over. Gradually, it will make the air here too poisonous to breathe. But Krystal isn't planning to stay here as she moves on.

The atmosphere and temperature around this area are just a notch more suffocating and blistering than they were at the other end of tunnel. The stalagmites on the ceiling are back, looking threatening enough to drop down on her. A drop of water comes down from it; it's not normal water. She has to stop and let it splatter on the floor in front her. It's boiling water that whizzes when it lands.

Not even that could stop the cold Krystal is experiencing. She resumes the path she has chosen with no other way to go than back the way she came. She begins to feel that empty spot again, no matter the threat of a tic. It's an illusion to calm her nerves, if that would be possible. As the will to survive runs through her veins, but also the fear of dying, it's nothing more than a simple deceiving way of telling herself that everything will be alright.

Her reflection is visible in a pool of that boiling liquid as she walks by; she's absolutely terrified and fragile. Paranoid, and easy to startle without anyone watching her back. The feeling is sickening as normally she never acted like this. Then again, never before has she been in Hell.

As she's hallway down the path, the staircase in sight, she is scared to death when suddenly a stream of black, damned souls comes pouring out of a crack in the wall to her right. Like the end of a sewage, just dumped into a river or nearby lake. They cry out for help, only to end up right into the magma where they dissolve. Under a held in laughter from somewhere behind the smoke curtain, they keep pouring. To keep her spirit up, she moves on. Becoming cold for others is a necessity now if she intends to survive and keep her soul.

A strange rattling is heard beneath her as she walks down the stairs. As if millions of filthy cockroaches were stirring underneath it. It gives her shudders, just the thought of it. The stairs heard cracking every time she steps on of them. Only adding to her insecurity about this place. She looks up, feeling the cooling shadow of the pointy rock that is indeed a 17th century sail-ship. In fact, it is the Flying Dutchman, only stressing how cursed she is. She can almost hear the verse the captain declared. The punishment Satan spoke over the ship reverberating.

As she looks down the stairs, she sees a hooded figure standing next to a closed wooden door. A torch close by highlights only his left side. Not his right or what's behind him. The figure wears a leather brown robe and his head is completely unseen thanks to the darkness inside the hood. The figure looks up to face Krystal when she is with both feet back on the ground. Still nothing but a black void inside the hood.

Next to the hooded figure is a door that looks like one leading to a 20th-century wine cellar. It's small, just not high enough for Krystal to pass through standing erect. In the far right corner, stands a weird looking gargoyle. It's a wolf without any wings, a very dark midnight blue furred one and doesn't look like anything like stone. The chest, arms and legs are adorned with runic markings, possibly Sanskrit that Délarbé has on his axe as well, that are colored a dark yet somewhat slightly glowing red. One could almost suggest it was alive. Static messages and echoes radiate the closer she gets to it. It gives her shudders.

She instead strafes to the left towards the robed figure. It's more human looking than that fur-statue. His whole appearance reminds her of her guide in the alley just a night ago.

'N-Nether? Is that you?' she asks hoping for it to be him.

'No...' answers the figure shadowy and stretched out on the vowel. It's like his answer came from somewhere far away, that echo full is his voice. '...but... I do know him. Welcome Krystal.' he greets.

'H-How do you know my name?' inquires Krystal backing off a little.

'Everyone knows your name here. He... has spread numerous rumors about you.'

She swallows. If every creature and or misfit knows who she is, they will certainly get to her. God knows what they will do with her. 'And who are you then?'

Her voice shivers all the way through. She tries to think about other things that are positive but it goes with much hardship.

'I'm his brotherly creation. I' am Death. You mortals... might know me better as the Grim Reaper.'

'Where is your scythe then?'

Death just lifts his hands and shows her his bare bone hands. 'Only my death touch is real. The rest is popularized to turn me into an object of fear. Like my brother, an injustice to my being.'

'Do you hate him?' asks Krystal.

'Hate...' That word doesn't even come close to what Death feels for Délarbé. 'He's an un-thankful rat. The Gatekeeper give him a new purpose aside from his mortal life. A chance to be part of Hell's purification. Unfortunately, he always resisted. No matter the punishment. He started to lose his mind. He started to confuse pleasure with stinging pain.'

'Hm. I think he never was any saner before it...' comments Krystal. Death digs the comment.

'Hmmm... I think I'm starting to get the rumors.' he chuckles. 'Anyway, he broke free the moment the Gatekeeper lost to Satan in the battle over Hell's Heart, the object that controls all of that should surround the evil souls. He was a fool to think he could escape. From there on out, this pain-maniac was forced to find a host, get five symbols so the Gatekeeper could regain his powers.'

'For what?' inquires Krystal as the story becomes clear. It's actually entertaining to an extent. Never been a fan of anything supernatural aside from telepathy, this story is more gripping. Mostly because she's has a leading role in it.

'To challenge Satan once more for the Heart and for the sixth, forbidden symbol: Satan's Goat Horn. But now that Délarbé killed him, he runs wild. He's planning to bring eternal darkness to your world. Your Lylat.'

'Oh god.' she reacts shocked. 'W-what can I do?'

'Luckily, he doesn't have your soul yet. He needs it function. You have to get out of this place.' He points at a door that opens without anyone touching it. 'The longer you stay here, the more Lylat shall be consumed.'

'But what do I have to do to get out? My spirit ring is...'

'You will not need that ring.' interrupts Death quickly. It's strange, because she saw Death more as a calm type at first sight. But he suddenly seems in a hurry. 'All you need to do is follow the instructions at every test. There are five in total, matching up to Délarbé's number. Do them as fast as possible and you'll return to the top world.'

Krystal takes Death's explanation seriously as she accepts her only way out. She walks towards the open door.

'Good luck. Stay out of the shadows. They look safe but he's there.' he gives her as a last piece of advice. Only when the door closes behind her it dawns to her that she might have heard a hint of Délarbé's black metal voice at the end of Death's advice. Thinking it's just the thickness of the cloud of despair hanging around her head, she moves on as a staircase going up is ahead.

Behind the other side of the closed door, Death takes a step forward to allow the light of the nearby torch to shine upon the wall behind him. But it doesn't shine on the wall, it shines on Délarbé who glares at the back of Death's hood. His right paw is positioned underneath Death's skull, inside the hood. The spine is in between his middle and index finger as the edges of the claws touch the end of the lower jaw.

'How did I do it... brother?' asks Death knowing what's going to happen.

'You should have never given her that last piece of advice you skullfucked shitstick!' flames Délarbé at him. 'For the rest, it wasn't bad.'

A mere second later, Délarbé lifts the skull of its body. Holding it up in front of him, the robe and the rest of his now useless body collapses into a heap. In between Délarbé's paw, the skull starts to break down on its own. Only a slight pinch would have been enough to shatter it, yet Délarbé reduces it to gravel the moment he prods his fingers hard into it. What was still in one piece, is crushed when a fist is formed. He opens his paw again to let the ash slip through his fingers and across the palm of his paw.

'This will assist me well.' he grins as tingling sensation runs through his paw. He turns his attention to the gargoyle. He walks towards it, his barb-heels ticking on the ground. He places his tingling paw on the gargoyle's forehead.

'Dagon. Awake.' he commands the gargoyle. A shock runs through the gargoyle's fur like a boost of life forcing its way through the stiff structure. The runic markings glow bright red once before the creature hops off the socle he stood on.

'You did well Dagon. I could learn something from you after all…' grins Délarbé cynical. The 188 centimeter long Dagon just looks vile at him while stretching every muscle.

'I'll have you known that I was the very first.' states Dagon. 'You should be bowing before me.'

Délarbé doesn't take orders from anyone. Especially not from some guy that, yes, might have duked it out with the Gatekeeper a long time ago, possibly around 1400, but lost.

'I do not care for your pathetic history. You just weren't able where I was successful by chopping his head off. And now… I'm wearing him as a piece of clothing!' Dagon can't do anything other than go along with that. 'You on the other hand, should shut your face. Foxes are no longer subject to wolves like from the time you came from.'

'Kyra was a fox…' His wife, just a normal peasant that caused him to be kicked out of the noble Dagon bloodline. He fell in love with her. What else than his heart should he have followed?

'Fucking boohoo! You might have killed your younger brother and got snatched by The Gatekeeper when you succumbed to your wounds… but I lost my parents! All because of you! I'll never be done with you! NOW BOW BEFORE ME WORTHLESS MAGGOT!'

Dagon does as instructed. As the loyal servant he was to The Gatekeeper before they had an argument as already described, he does the same with Délarbé. Against his will. The incapability of him to counter Délarbé's orders radiates from him. Délarbé takes it all in. The sweet taste of superiority. He feels like The Gatekeeper himself, that powerful.

But Délarbé isn't without mercy. In fact, he does have some admiration. Dagon wasn't always like this, much like he never was. And he has been like this for more than 1000 years. And it wasn't really his fault that Loic turned to Délarbé.

Dagon was always loyal, even when he grew more powerful by the second. The Gatekeeper saw it as a threat to his ruling so a fight ensued. When Dagon escaped into the mortal realm, The Gatekeeper followed him only to lose track of him in France. There, he found Gilles de Rais and took control of him. That sparked the coming of Délarbé.

Délarbé puts his flaming index finger underneath the chin of the humbly bowing Dagon and lifts it up. The magma pentagram eyes meet his emerald green ones.

'Now now… I think I've been a little too harsh on you Dagon. True is that you've lit a long fuse, causing me to exist. But on the other side, it caused me to exist!' he speaks euphoric. 'And for that, I'll be thankful as well as never done with you.'

Dagon stands up and feels treated like an equal. Although his past will always be more incriminating to him than whatever Délarbé could bring up, he submits. Getting to business, Délarbé states a problem.

He turns his back on him and puts his paws behind his back. 'Dagon. The last part of the mechanism... is gone.'

'I'm aware of that. You put me in as caretaker of this place.'

'So do you have any news for me?'

'I have Délarbé. Luckily, I've found very capable replacements that were running from your... "Intervention." He turns his head towards the closed door. 'Hopefully, she will appreciate it.'

Meanwhile, Krystal has climbed the stairs. Again, they lead to a door. But this one is gigantic, taking the whole hallway. And that is several meters wide. Something is strange though: there is two huge knobs both in the middle. Just big enough for a strong paw to turn. Around each, one wire. They run vertically upwards towards a gear at the top of the door post. From there on, they run horizontally towards another gear at the far left and far right sides. They drop down vertically to end at something unseen, hidden in darkness.

As she comes closer, a small pillar erupts from the ground. It is angle white, in great contrast with the fiery orange and thick black that keeps surrounding her. On it, rests a machine-gun. She recognizes it well; it's the same model as the one Starfox used against the Aparoids when on foot. She picks it up as a gift like this feels better than being presented with a feast when famished.

*It looks in good condition. The bolt is functional. The sights are aligned and the barrel looks clean. One thing left to check...* She flips a switch on an attached display. A blue screen highlights weak but the bullet count reads "1" very clear. *Only one round in the magazine? This has to be malfunction.*

'No it is not.' speaks Death alive and well very close behind her. She jumps up and grabs her heart.
'Jesus! Death!' She turns around to face Death. She some trouble breathing at first needing to reclaim it first. 'W-Was... was that necessary?'

'I do apologize. But I'm only here to explain your test.'

She puts her hair back the way it was, being flunked thanks to Death's subtle approach. She hated it, but is secretly very happy that someone is looking out for her. 'Go ahead.' she says with some obviously faked enthusiasm.

Death walks over to Krystal's side as Krystal turns towards him. Suddenly, a crack is heard within Death's hood as he stops dead in his tracks. The crack sounds again until finally a loud shattering noise is heard in it. It nerves Krystal; just as things were looking up, someone looking after her, all be it Death, it has to fall into jeopardy.

'D-Death? Please don't mess with me now. I will not be able to take it.'

'He's not messing with you.' tells Délarbé behind her.

She turns around to see Délarbé crouched on top of the door-post. He shoves a metal bar in between the first gears, jamming them for good. Once it's in between, he grabs a replica of Death's skull from thin air and holds it up so Krystal can see it.

'I see you and Death had become quite the couple. At least, that's what you wanted it to be.' he says on a diminishing tone.

'I-is that...?'

'Yes. This is Death's skull. You have no idea how easy it was to control what he said. And how easy it was to pluck his head off.'

Krystal cocks the weapon, having heard enough. She aims for Délarbé's head.

'Put it back on!' she commands dubious about the outcome and if her threat is legit enough to force Délarbé into it. 'You too never had anything in common so let him go!'

'What? So you two can be BFF's?' He chuckles as he raises his right paw holding the skull. It almost touches the ceiling. 'Death and I go way back. As parts of this mechanism. Death... is an old friend of mine. And you can say... we kinda had an argument!' he exclaims with a heavy voice before he throws the skull towards the ground. Unable to do anything, Krystal watches as the skull turns into a shrapnel bomb. Like a confetti cannon, it explodes particles in every direction but mainly focused on Krystal. She covers her face with her arms, leaving the rest uncovered. Several shards fly by and cut her left hip and right elbow.

Behind her, Death collapses into a useless sack of bones. Just like he was before. She lowers her arms when the barrage has stopped as she begins to check the damage.

'You know...' begins Délarbé again. 'I never had the chance to thank you for notifying me back there. As my gratitude, you'll show you why I've killed Death. Phew... how ironic.'

He brings his burning index finger closer to his tingling paw and sets it on fire for no clear reason. But as it only engulfs his paw and nothing on the arm, it must have its purpose. The flesh starts to burn away and like Fox's transformation, the molten mush splatters as a bloody pulp on the ground. Now, Délarbé right paw is just like one of Death's hands.

Triumphantly, he drops down from the door-post, landing in the dust of Death's skull. He stands up from a kneeled position and comes a little closer to Krystal. The new addition to Délarbé twisted arsenal of body mutilations and weapon feels ramshackle and quirky. Because it's nothing but bone, the sluggish movement of all the parts is something he has to get used to.

Krystal still has her sights on Délarbé's head. They never went off of it, not even during the transformation. 'I wouldn't do that if I were you.' he dismisses as Krystal squeezes on the trigger.

'Give me one véééry good reason then!' she answers hissing.

Délarbé notches to someone behind her. Suddenly, midnight blue paw haul themselves over her the back of her shoulders and grab her wrists. Before she can resist, he takes a fierce knee to her tail-bone. The shock running through her body loosens her grip on the machine gun as Délarbé simply takes it out of her paws.

'Thank you Dagon. Krystal… meet Dagon.'

'The… the… Gargoyle!?' she calls out, still in severe pain.

'A genius diversion don't you agree Krystal?' He looks over to Délarbé as if he's asking permission for something. Délarbé agrees with a nod. Dagon's grin couldn't be bigger than it is now. He brings her weakened wrists together and grabs both with only his left paw. He holds them up in the air and starts to reinact the same routine Délarbé had with her in Nether.

'N-no… stop it! Filthy perverts! L-let m-me go…' she pleads as tears come to her eyes. The second time being molested in a span of just an hour or two.

'You have to excuse my friend over here. He just misses his beautiful foxy lady.' He comes a little closer to Krystal clenching her teeth, preventing her from moaning. 'Frankly, he didn't get laid for about 1000 years. The Erinyes around this place weren't very fond of him.'

In the midst of desperation, Krystal comes up with an idea. Délarbé needs her as his queen. So why would he allow his future queen to be treated like this?

'Dé… please… d-don't… AH!' she moans regretful as Dagon's index finger slips through the subtle rip in her catsuit down to her clit. The feeling is awfully dubious. 'P-please… AAAH! N-no… don't le-let your QUEEN get treated like this-aaaaaah!'

'Hmmm…' hums Délarbé thinking. *Dagon is going well now. Why stop? I guess she's right. I need some of that pleasure soon.* 'Dagon!' he speaks. 'Let her go and give her back the machine-gun. She has to continue.'

'Hrr? Fine then.' he growls releasing Krystal's wrists and withdrawing his clit-stroking finger from the rip. He hands her the machine-gun which she snatches out of his giving paws with no mercy. No mercy is there for Délarbé either. She once more aims for his head. Dagon is already in defense mode before Délarbé holds his paw up.

'It's okay Dagon. I got this.'

He gives another notch to something behind her. It's at the metal bar in between. 'Use it on me and you'll never get through.'

The one round in the magazine starts to make sense. It's putting a cap in Délarbé's forehead or her continuation. She submits to the last choice as she lowers the sights reluctantly.

'That's more like it.' says the smug black metal voice. 'Now, the instructions for this test are easy. Shoot the metal bar out of its jamming role and open goes the gate.'

It's too simple; she smells a something fishy about it. Dagon approaches Délarbé and whispers something in his ear. 'You are going to like the sacrifices I've found.'

Délarbé can't stand the anticipation but sees Krystal already aiming for the metal bar. He decides to make things a little more complicated.

'Oh yeah. I almost forgot; two sacrifices are needed!' he tells her in an ominous way. Lights turn and reveal, to Krystal's horror, where the wires end. They end in nooses that are around Panther's neck on the left side and Estelle's neck on the other. Both are unconscious, much to Krystal relief.

'Don't get too excited now Krystal.' whispers Délarbé suddenly behind, using his shadow to sneak up behind her. 'If you shoot the bar...' He comes even closer. She can feel his whole body coming closer as his left paw lays itself in her shoulder. It makes her shiver, but also feeling paralyzed. His muzzle comes closer to her ear. She feel his breathing in it. 'Because you'll hang... both of them!' he yells in her ear after powering up his voice from 0 to 100. 'Give it your all. 60 seconds. Tic-tac Krys. Decision time.'

Délarbé stalks away but remains in the room. '50 seconds!' he exclaims as the countdown already started. This puts even more pressure on her. Aside from the fact that Panther cheated on her and Estelle betrayed her, she still cares about them, making the task of killing all the more difficult. And when she aims for the bar, Panther awakens.

*Oh God no...*

Groaningly, he opens his eyes to a place he has never seen before. And when he sees Krystal with the machine-gun in her paws and the noose around his neck, he's suddenly very much awake.

'K-Krystal? Where am I? W-why are holding a machine-gun in your paws or why... why do I have a noose around my neck?!'

All those questions only burden Krystal even more.

'40 seconds!' feels like another stab in the back, much to Délarbé and Dagon's entertainment.

'Please Panther...' she cries. 'Don't look. It-it will be over soon.' She swallows hard at that lie while trying to remain focused on the metal bar that leads to her way out of her.

'Krystal. Whatever it is I've done, I'm sorry. But... I can help you. E-Estelle too... okay?' She nods in doubt as she looks at Estelle with her eyes still closed. 'Hey. Hey Estelle. W-wake up sugar lips. Krystal is here and uh... she needs us so to say.'

Groaning even harder, Estelle awakens as well. She too sees the dire situation she's in but copes with it without too many questions. 'What's going on?' she asks at the sight of Krystal.

'25 seconds!'
Quickly, Krystal explains the situation. It takes her about 8 to 10 seconds.

'Then shoot our nooses off!' recommends Panther understanding the hurry but in no mood to die.

'15 seconds!'

'I can't!' yells Krystal panicked. 'I only have one shot!'

'Then shoot one of the wires and then either of us will free each other!' advises Estelle already full of her brilliant idea.

It's plausible, but as Délarbé begins to count down from 10, the pressure gets too much. All the voices become too loud and too much of a burden for her. She drops down her knees at the count of 8 and presses her paws against her ears to keep the voices out, dropping the machine-gun. Tears burst out underneath her closed eyes as the weapon hits the floor at 7. She can't take it anymore. Holding on to her soul is one thing but this is far worse than physical torture. Perhaps even worse than Phantom's treatment he told her about.

But at the count of 5, suddenly all the voices stop. It is like temporary deafness after an explosion close by. A switch inside of her is flipped on as she grabs the gun and stands up. Deaf to all recommendations, she aims and fires at the metal bar on 3. The bar breaks off in the middle as the gears start to roll freely. Only a micro-second later, the recommendations and voices stop when Panther's and Estelle's necks snap at the same time. An instant kill.

But unlike the instructions told her, the door doesn't open. Hearing comes back at her like smack against the head as she sees the metal bar shot in half on the floor. The barrel of the gun is smoking and Panther and Estelle hang dead in their nooses. Their lifeless and already bleached eyes stare at her as she falls down on her knees again. She hears a snap and wires simply drop down on the floor. So do Panther's and Estelle's dead bodies. The whole mechanism was a phony, an act.

The machinegun disassembles itself and goes up in thin air. The clicking of Délarbé's barb-heels come closer being the only sound around aside from Krystal troublesome breathing. Without a good reason, she starts to sing as passes Krystal by with his paws behind his back.

And for a moment I
Felt like your suffering was enough.
To let it go but I,
Tonight I'm watching you fuck it up.

He grabs the knobs and turns the left one counter-clockwise and the right one clockwise. He hears the sound of it unlocking. She could just opened the door without the sacrifices. With a push, the heavy-looking doors fly open as if they were as light as foam. Multiple firestorms are seen raging on the other side. Dagon walks around the broken down Krystal, slapping his tail in her face for extra injury. He stands next to Délarbé at the backdrop of raging flames.

And for a moment I,
Felt like your suffering was enough.
To let it go but I,
Tonight I'm watching you FUCK IT UP!

He turns around to face Krystal as the firestorm behind him makes his front look all dark. Only his eyes and fangs are visible as he speaks the following words:

'I hope you have enjoyed this part of the Tour de Diablè. Please follow your guide to the next... attraction.'

He turns around and walks with Dagon into the firestorms like it's nothing. He whistles his tune as the Sons of Plunder fall down from the ceiling and the walls, blindly following their master. Seconds later, he, Dagon and the Sons are just gone leaving Krystal behind, beaten and ravaged.

Another partial chapter for Perfect Insanity. The Dump week is nearing its end, meaning that the already written chapters are running out too. Don't forget to vote for Krystal's PI name! It actually matters for the upcoming storyline. Further secrets will not be revealed.

Enormous thanks to Kusa for making this story even more gruesome and opening more possibilities for future story elements. Dagon is his creation and I hope I've made him like he wanted him to be. See you next time on Perfect Insanity!