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Hell’s Butcher

“Hoohh? Another interesting one…” The god bemused as he skimmed through the list of souls.

The list appeared as a phantasmal scroll which hovered in front of his face. On the scroll read; Lucky Bertrand +780,244 karma.

*with a wave of his hand the soul of Lucky materialised before him

“AAAHHHHHHHHHHH, PLEASE DONT SHOOT, PLEASE-“

The god coughs politely.

“Now, now- calm down young one”

“-huh?” He looked around at the mystical landscape.

“It seems you’ve lived a very virtuous life, let’s see here… +782,250 for stopping a genocide, +10 for upholding a promise, -2000 for treason, -16 for lying… well he’s in the same era as that bloodthirsty dictator after all”

“No way… you are-“

“That’s right-”

“-The power hidden within me???”

“No, i’m god”

“Oh, of course. Sorry”

‘How is an idiot like this one of the most virtuous people in decades?’ The god wondered.

“For your good deeds I will give you two options: you can ascend and become an angel, or you can be reincarnated into another world”

“… Can I keep my choice for later?”

“What? Why?”

“I want to see what my friend chooses first…”

“Hmmm, for someone as saintly as you that is no problem. What is the name of this friend?”

“Asher Geiger”

“…”

“…”

*A shooting star slowly crawls down the gods forehead like a bead of sweat

“Could you repeat tha-“

“-It’s Asher Geiger”

“Someone like you is friends with that dictator?”

“Dictator? Hey, even you can’t shit talk my best friend okay”

“How interesting. I’m guessing you stopped one of his genocides and gained lots of karma points for it. I feel like that could be exploited somehow…” The god murmured.

“Wait, what are you talking about. I mean besides his grandma he’s a pretty normal guy, what do you mean genocide?”

A seed of doubt was planted in the gods head. Was it possible that this Asher human was actually innocent? But the scroll clearly stated he was directly responsible for multiple genocides, and he even pretended he had nothing to do with it.

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“Ah, I know” the god exclaimed.

He pulled out Asher’s list of sins. All he needs to confirm is look at his most recent sin, which should be lying to a divine authority.

“Let’s see… um let me refresh” He swipes downwards to refresh the tab.

‘-107,203 for genocide’

‘How strange…’ The god thought. It clearly states that he committed the genocide, but it doesn’t say that he was lying either. In fact, the amount of lies this man has said can be counted on a single hand.

But now he has sent Asher to the nine hells- Satan’s domain. Satan is the one existence which could threaten the god, so going to the nine hells is definitely off the table.

‘Well’ he schemed ‘It doesn’t have to be me…’

“Lucky, unfortunately your friend has fallen into the clutches of the dastardly Satan, that fiend... But fear not! For I shall grant you great power befitting of your virtue- go forth hero and rescue your friend from the ninth circle of hell!”

*he points at a cluster of stars in the horizon and Lucky instantly vanishes from sight

“What a mess” he laments, “How did this happen?”

“Seraphiel” he commanded

A six winged creature appeared, floating before him. Two wings covered its face and two covered its feet. The last two were freely outstretched behind its back. Though, to use these terms may be inaccurate as it had more of a moth-like figure. Its feathers were a brilliant white. On the visible part of its torso was a large eye with a wizened grey iris. Smaller eyes were embedded on the inside of each wing.

“Yes, my lord” It responded.

“Go scout out the human realm and report back to me”

“It shall be done, my lord”

Seraphiel then outstretched its wings and flew away.

——

Everyone knows the typical image of hell portrayed in popular media. A burning red landscape of magma, demons and torture.

This is fake news. Currently, I am risking my life to get real images of hell, as the first war correspondent on the scene. After saving me from the dangerous wildlife, a kind local is currently escorting me in a bag over his shoulder.

Contrary to what you may expect, hell is a lonely place. An inhospitable expanse of snow 10 meters in every direction, masked by the endless wall of blizzard which plagues the land.

Occasionally, the hills of snow would decline to reveal patches of the infinite ice floor which held up this frigid world.

Sometimes, beyond the wintry fog, flashes of light would erupt, accompanied by muffled booms and zaps, then followed by silence.

I asked my tour guide what this might be but he simply responded with a scoff. I guess he’s not completely fluent in the language.

How did I get a tour guide in such an exclusive place? Well, my friend let me tell you a secret. I’m actually not a journalist, and i’m pretty sure i’m being kidnapped.

My kidnapper is a brutish monster. He is around 15ft tall with green skin and massive muscles. He has a crown of 5 horns protruding from his skull and a single large orange eye on his pear-shaped head, so i’m going to call him Cyclops.

Cyclops is wearing a patchwork assortment of, I assume, his own creation. His cloak is an amalgamation of black leather, animal fur and other unidentifiable materials with black splotches, stitched together with a dried red thread. The bag he stuffed me in is of a similar mesh. It’s impressive that he can tailor at all to be honest, with his melon-crushing hands.

Attached to his waist is a 10ft long bone club which drags across the snow, leaving a trail as he walks. The handle is made of a grey, scaled leather- making me think it might be the thigh bone of some dinosaur.

We reach the entrance of a towering mountain of snow and he punches a part of the mountain- blasting a large hole in the side, revealing a tunnel lined with blazing blue torches.

Upon entering the tunnel he looks back at the entrance and his orange eye turns icy-grey, emitting a cold energy which freezes over the hole with ice, subsequently being covered by snow. His eye then shifts to a dull, black colour as he walks down the tunnel.

“So… what’s your name” I question casually.

“…”

His eye glows a light green as he look over me, reflecting indistinguishable letters in his pupils, then he smirks “Looks like I got a good catch”.

Gulp. I was never popular back on Earth so this kind of situation is hard to deal with. Listen it’s not because he’s a cyclops okay! I just think we should get to know each other a bit more first.

I began to hear a low groaning coming from an opening in the wall. Cyclops leads me past the entrance into a large cavern-like area. The sickening stench of blood permeates the room, evident from the splatters across the floor and walls.

Dangling from thick ropes of intestines on the ceiling are about a dozen other creatures, mostly around an average human size. Cyclops grabs a colossal butchers knife and spear leaning against the wall and walks over to a pale, vampire looking person hanging from his feet.

“n-n-nno it hurts- let me go-“ The pitiful monster pleaded before being spun around.

Cyclops then raised his butchers knife up to the bat wings folded up against the vampires back and cleaved them straight off. That explains where he got the leather from…

“AHHHHHHHH-“

The vampires screams were cut short by a large sharpened bone piercing his lungs in a single thrust. Cyclops eyes flash green as he looks down at himself and the small inscription flash in his pupils once more, then he moves onto his next living provision.

Imps, devils, ogres and gargoyles are all consecutively butchered for their valuable resources then killed. I watched onwards in horror at the slaughter scene, while slowly worming back towards the door- restrained by rope tying the patchwork bag closed.

Cyclops smashes the scorched wood frame of a blue wickerman, which surprisingly leads to its flame ascending upwards to the ceiling.

“I’m… finally… free…” It whispers before evaporating. Leaving an empty oaken husk dangling above the grounds.

“Lucky bastard, he finally ascended huh. Well, i’ve got a spare wickerman anyway”

The corpses of the other demons begin to regenerate from their deformed state at a slow pace. It seems they aren’t entirely dead yet.

Just as I was about to wiggle around the corner of the archway he turns around.

“Don’t be shy, a spot just cleared up for you”

Fuck. I’m gonna be skinned for eternity by this psycho. I struggle even more, with a pop, I manage to dislocate my arm and crawl out of the sack.

“This is getting annoying” Cyclops growls

His eye glows purple and I feel an invisible force lift my body off the ground and pull me towards him.

As i’m floating towards the cyclops I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the dead, glossy eyes of a beholder. It seems I have become a Satyr, with the horns of a ram and legs of a goat. Not the most badass demon, but that’s the least of my worries at the moment.

I try leap off the ground with my goat legs to propel myself and head butt the cyclops.

“Oof”

I ram into his knee and he stumbles slightly, before crushing me into the ground with his telekinesis.

“Stupid goat! You’re dead meat”

The last thing I saw was his massive butcher knife cleaving my vision into two.

——