Hell on a Stick Pt. 1: Entry Exam

 
"and you would willingly choose hell?"

I mean, given the options, you should choose something a bit lighter?

"I said I'd like to take a tour, just a gander,"
You don't get to leave freely, you know,
"I said. Why not?"
Because of the fire! The monsters? The devil himself?
The streams of molten liquid bone
The screams of lovers stoned,
"I mean, it's just a little warmer than what I'm used to, let's see what all the fuss is about"

And so began my decline to what we like to call hell.
My guide has a resigned look on their face.

"I cannot offer you much. I can give you this staff. As you are technically a guest, you will be allowed to leave---once you die in there. This staff is just a very strong metal rod. It will serve you, but I don't really know how effective it is going to be. I just gave it to you because it's the one I use to whack small demons when they act up and it's better than nothing, and the rulebook says I can't give you anything more powerful. A couple tips: you can stay as long as you like. And you can take whatever you like. There's lots of different things to see! When you're ready to return back to the lobby, just have yourself killed in any way you'd prefer and your soul will be teleported back here. Sound good?"

I smile. "Thanks for the stick."
'
'
'
everything is dark.

There's a scraping sound nearby. I can hear water running in the distance. I clutch my rod. It's got engraved symbols up and down the sides. I rap it with my knuckle, and it starts to glow along the engravements in an acidic yellow, and my surroundings are illuminated.

"Hello......ummmm...."

I glance over. There's a demon creature here. He has a locked grin on a smallish white head with scraggled hair poked out.
eyes, red with white pupils and golden irises
and a thin thin set of legs that are very finely scaled
and....eyebags? oh he's clearly tired,
his feet are two solid black blocks of iron.

The scraping is because he holds, well ok he doesn't have hands:
a fine wire, clasped to his ankle,
so thin I can hardly see it in the ambient light,
and dragged along is a small painting
a fine female face, forlorn, adorned,
on the little white canvas, that is
surprisingly clean?

"Can I help you?"
He looks down, though his garish grin belies a sad expression.
"You don't look too happy. Why do you smile?" I ask again.

"My lover, she was my joy,
and because I am no longer with her
I must grin and bear it"
He shuffles in place, pulling her portrait
Closer to his self.

"That's it? What a dumb sentence. To make you suffer so plainly in such a place like this."

"She was very good, the best, methinks. Good thing she cannot see me
In this wretched state? I'd kill me if I saw myself creeping about on the side of the road. What are you here for?"

"I'm on tour."

"They're doing tours? Why?"
"well, I asked for one. The guide made a special exception."
"oh."
"Do you know where the nearest town is?"
"Yes. Criozesas is a short walk from here. I'll take you."
"Fun! Is it a nice place?"
"I don't really know what constitutes as fun down here, but it's alright."
"I'm Cayman. Cayman Bonaire. You?"
"I'm Jevas, the fourth, but I always thought that was silly. Are you sure there were no other people named Jevas before me? The whole world's population and I turned out to be the fourth? I never believed it. Everyone calls me Jevo though, I think it rolls off the tongue better."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance."

~narrator~

And so the dynamic duo
Jevas and Cayman,
march into the sunrise

there's no sunrise. not in hell.

incredibly dark was the landscape at first,
but Cayman arrived and his stick drew a thirst,
a quenching of luminance!
broke forth with a burst,
and drew in the demon Jevas
with his dead wife in painted hearse,
at first he thought him odd,
with no arms, torso, or soul,
but Jevas was just like any man,
tall, fat, or old,
but this ill-fated encounter
will bring perils and fear
but we are in hell
so buckle up dears!