Screams filled with agony echo around me, their impressive vigor bringing me back from the oblivion my bruised conscious wanted to hide in.

Maybe they're screaming because they're burning in the blazing hellfires? Or maybe it's the endless torture? Who knows?

*WHIP!*

"Ahn! Harder, Daddy!" (Me)

"You're really taking all the fun out of it." (Azaus)

The demon's grip on the whip tightens visibly as he lashes out once more.

*WHIP!*

Spikes bury themselves deeply into my skin, shredding the flesh hidden beneath. Blood splurts on the scaldingly hot, rocky ground below me, instantly vaporizing.

"COME ON! PUT YOUR BACK INTO IT! Don't you dare neglect this relationship after everything we've been through! Think about the kids!" (Me)

The shackles around my limbs let out a high-pitched shriek at my sudden backlashing but still won't budge a whole lot. I turn on the waterworks to get the point of my loneliness across, A1 acting being one of my many talents.

He goes for another swing with his whip but, devoid of all motivation, the goat-legged monster I've become so intimately acquainted with lets go of the torture device, heartbroken.

"Don't worry about it. Happens to the best of us." (Me)

He looks at me with eyes full of disdain. Nonetheless, I know that he's just hiding his true feelings for me.

"Hey, I'm just trying to cheer you up here. No need to look at me like that." (Me)

His breathing becomes heavier, anger radiating from his aggressive posture, but he doesn't answer my provocation. His snout just exhales, as if he sighed.

'I would feel bad, but he literally just disemboweled me a few minutes ago. I'd say it's kinda fair that I'm having a go at him.'

My consciousness nearly fades because of the blood loss, but the flames around me sear my wounds together, keeping me awake with their scorching heat. This process always repeats itself as soon as my environment senses that I try to escape in any sort of way from this reality that I found myself in.

'What a thoughtful place Hell is. They won't even let me bleed out.'

Azaus spits in my face with contempt.

"Rude." (Me)

"You'll see. I will find something to break you with." (Azaus)

The ball of gunk and snot rolls down my cheek. It only takes seconds before it corrodes through my flesh and leaves a gaping hole behind.

"Oooohhhh, acidic spit. Creative, aren't we?" (Me)

I look him deep in the eyes. His vertical pupils seem to pierce directly into my soul. I can't really make out anything from his facial expression since it's a weird mix between anger and disappointment, but I'd like to think we don't need words or gestures to understand one another.

We both don't break eye contact for a full minute, sparks flying between us.

"Are we gonna kiss now or will you just leave me hanging?" (Me)

"Fuck this. I'm gonna ask for a replacement." (Azaus)

One last time, he penetrates my stomach with an acid dripping dagger before turning around and jumping over the stream of lava encircling me.

"Get it?! Cause I'm hanging from chains!" (Me)

I shout these words after him, but he doesn't turn around. With every jump he makes over the countless pools of rotten flesh and molten lava, I feel more ignored.

'Fucking hell, finally.'

With a last intended pun, I wait a bit until he leaves my sight. Full of joy, I start to move my tongue around inside of my mouth. The irony taste would usually not be something that gives me an unbelievable amount of joy, but this time it's different. I pull something out with a *Clink!*.

The metallic key to my shackles is stuck between my teeth.

'That newbie didn't even notice me stealing it right from his crotch. Beginners are way too easy.'

I spit the key out into my hand and search for the lock on my overly clichéd chains. The jagged stone wall behind me rips into my skin as I squirm around, trying to reach for the lock.

'You would think that hell would supervise one of their most cherished prisoners...'

After a bit of fiddling, I feel the lock touching my hand-

And immediately burning my finger off.

'Oh well, 4 fingers left. Gotta stay optimistic.'

I look around once more, making sure that no new employee of hell was coming my way, before examining the thing that just disintegrated my middle finger.

A pulse of energy is emitted by the lock, not letting anything near it. Understandably, since its only purpose is to prevent exactly that.

'But not that I hadn't planned for something like that in the last 500 years.'

I scrap together the tiny amount of mana I was able to save up in my whole life here and push the "anti-approach" spell back. Something that's easier said than done.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Even though I have a certain proficiency in mana control, the spell I'm up against would usually take way more than the scrap amounts of mana I saved up.

But I've had enough time here to expect exactly that.

"Bada bang, bada boom. Open sesame." (Me)

The key enters the lock, signaling my freedom.

I stand up from my kneeling position, for the first time in centuries. To be exact, for the first time since another demon ordered me to stay like this, about 1500 years ago. My joints creak with every movement.

"But now I'm free." (Me)

A real smile appears on my face for the first time in ages.

'Have you finally done it, my dear?'

A voice invades my mind. It sounds female, but I can't make out who it is, or where this transmission is coming from.

"Yup!" (Me)

'I'm so glad!'

"That already makes two of us! How nice!" (Me)

I notice how my body starts to feel gradually more sluggish, even with me fighting against it.

I make my first step.

"Would be nice if you could introduce yourself, though?" (Me)

Just as I finish my last word, a feeling of vertigo washes over me and my vision fades to black.

*

----------------------------------------

*

I regain my consciousness bit by bit.

The first thing that I notice happening to me, is the feeling of my bones shifting around.

'Eeeeewww, this is uncomfortable.'

In this weirdly long and arduous process, my skeleton moves around parts of my body where bones shouldn't even be. I can't really say how long this process took, since I was still a bit woosy for the whole thing, my mind still not completely settled in.

The next thing is my muscles being ripped out and uniting with my fresh bones.

'This actually feels quite pleasant.'

I don't feel any pain in the process. As a matter of fact, I didn't feel anything in the tango of bones before either, other than a slight feeling of discomfort.

'It's not really a nice feeling, I admit. After all, bones popping out of their sockets makes this really weird sound, which-'

And finally, my skin being torn apart.

'Let me finish my monologue at least... But the ripping really does bring me back to my first few years in hell. Good times. Simpler times.'

As I reminisce about the good memories of my past, I manage to finally open my eyes.

"A desk." (Me)

Covering my vision is the bottom of a table, standing above me with it's four metallic legs. Its simple design rouses a certain sense of nostalgia in me, resulting in a steady stream of old memories resurfacing.

I look around me.

'A class.'

About 20 students look at me with an aghast expression.

I look down at myself.

'A skirt.'

The skirt is clearly made for females, but 2 hairy legs are sticking out of it.

'I still have my man bits.'

A sudden draft races across my nether regions, the hidden one getting a bit chilly in response. Becoming a femboy after thousands of years of planning is the last thing I'd want.

'Hail Satan, I'm still a dude. Still, quite the unusual situation...'

My body feels unfamiliar. Changing so much must've taken a toll since a wave of exhaustion spreads through my body like a wildfire, but I still do my best to stand up, way too excited over finally having escaped.

I notice how the stares of my classmates burn through my very soul as they don't get their eyes off my beautiful body. Not a single sound is heard, which goes quite in contrast to the constant screaming in hell.

They continue to just look at me, their mouths wide open.

"What? Never seen a dude wearing a skirt before?" (Me)

I take another look at the checkered, red skirt I'm wearing and the school uniform which is way too small for my build.

"Oh wait, is this Scottland? MAN I WAS NEVER SCOTTISH BEFORE! What a blast." (Me)

'THIS IS NOT SCOTTLAND AND WHO ARE YOU?!'

Another voice invades my thoughts. Once more, it's a girl. But this time, she's evidently slightly more annoyed and/or angry.

'New phone, who dis?'

'WHAT IS THIS? WHY ARE YOU IN MY BODY?! GET OUT!'

'New phone, who dis?'

'I'M THE OWNER OF THIS BODY!'

'Weird... clearly, I'm the one who's controlling this body. Hence, I should be the owner of this body. On a side-note, a wee bit disappointed this isn't Scottland.'

'FUCK OFF!'

'I just want to be Scottish, damn.'

Feelings of joy and excitement rush through me, the flow of new information and events being something I had nearly forgotten over the many years of torture.

But, as if the new voice in my head wasn't enough, a screen pops up in front of me without any kind of warning.

Hey, Guys!

'Alright, I think people aren't getting the message here...'

"Listen up guys! I apparently just got a new body, so if someone here wants to talk to me, I need a whole introduction from you. Hobbies, interests... names would be helpful too, now that I think about it." (Me)

No one pays attention to my attempt of making new friends, rather paying attention to the boring blue box floating in front of their faces, which does not bother me in the slightest. I'm fine with being ignored. This does not bring up any issues inside me.

Is me... ya boi... God.

'Wait what?'

My eyes fixate on the name on the nearly transparent interface, annoyance biting its way through my new body. I check the name mentioned on the screen a second and third time. Still the same shit.

'That sad excuse of a cumrag is still out and about, eh?'

Well... how should I say this, easy for you to understand without sounding like an ass... Welcome to the apocalypse!

'WHAT?!'

'Listen, I get it, you're not in control of your body anymore, weird screen and all that, but could you be quiet while you're inside of my... your?... our head? I still have a bit of a headache after my whole skeletal structure decided to play twister. And I feel like my skull lost.'

'...'

'Get it?'

'...'

'My bones moved.'

Not a word is heard inside my brain for once. Silence might've been my goal, just not after a joke.

'And my skull lost in twister. That's why I have a headache.'

Still no sound.

'Is the mic on?'

When I finally decide to drop the matter, enjoying the second of silence I haven't had in years, a loud roar from the hallway makes my ears ring again. To be honest, I didn't want my return after so many years to be so hectic with everything happening simultaneously, but beggars can't be choosers, right?

The rest of the class snaps their head in direction of the hallway where the shout was seemingly coming from, their primal instincts drawing the expression of pure terror on their faces.

I would try to help them snap to their senses, if there wasn't something else bugging me.

'Where do I know this ear-deafening, fear-inducing voice from?'

Suddenly, a huge foot pushes the classroom door out of its hinges. The only thing standing between me and the glorious outside flies across the room, hitting a fellow classmate on its journey.

'Ah, Orc.'

'ORC?!'

'Really, just for 5 minutes, don't be so loud.'