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Chapter six

“Walking into the darkness of Hell’s pit.”

I – 3:09 PM

Yep, Juste had fucked himself over now, he did what he was told not to do in order
to stay alive, and he did the exact opposite. His corpse now laid where it was shot to
shit and back. His humanity, or the Anthromorphic equivalent of it, started to kick in
and the guilt from what he just did this night started to weigh his soul down.
Although now matter how much guilt and qualm weighed down upon him, the lupine
spirit shook his head, and it was pushed aside, The looming feeling that came from
the darkness that no doubt here to consume him, and rip his immortal conscience
from this world, and bring him to his supposed resting place.

”…Holy shit.”

The ”holy” part was extended for several minutes; his eyes went to the line of body
bags, which only included the bodies that were pulled from the hospital, and not
from the other places where his rampage encompassed. No doubt they were tag and
bagging them too, but they weren’t grouped with hospital ones.

A grin curled his lips, and he brought his paws to his vision, they were turned up so
the palms faced the sky, and he looked upon them. The actual spiritual
manifestation of his atrocities was still showing themselves upon those paws: Blood
seemed to pour from his hands, and pool around his spirit, although invisible to
everyone but him.

“If I wasn’t so worried about when I’m going to be dragged to help… I’d start flailing
my limbs around… This is so cool.”

The area around him went cold… It was like someone decided to turn the freezer on,
and set it to”8”or something. He quickly decided to turn around in a quick circle,
moving slow as the pain of his death still imposed itself on his spirit. He felt it slowly
become colder and colder, but this would be the least of the wolf’s problems. The
male turned himself until he was once again standing in his original position…

There was a figure, he kind of felt like another spirit he knew of… Although this
demonic like being seemed to be much more hostile compared to this other spiritual
entity. He pushed his left paw forwards, all but his pointer digit halfway curled into a
fist.

“And who are you?”

There was no real answer, although as Juste has his arm lowered half way, there
was a -very- tight grasp upon his entirety. Both paws quickly went around his neck,
which seemed to be where the pain was most concentrated. After a minute or two,
another force nailed the spirit, this was more or less the equivalent to a Mac-truck,
and it had enough force to send the wolf to the ground with a bounce or two.

His spirit slowly started to get up upon the ground, just as a blood-red vortex started
to open. Juste blinked a bit, seeing this happen as his muzzle was tilted back during
his recovery from the hit he took from the robbed figure. He turned upon one foot,
and looked upon this vortex, he wasn’t being pulled into it, if he was it was a weak
pulling. He scratched the back of his head, before he felt a pushing motion shove the
wolf into the vortex.

“Hey, why did you do tha—OOOOH FUCK!”

The vortex closed as he flew through it, although as he flew through the vortex, he
remained vertical for several moments, his body started to go into a downward slope
towards what appeared to be black sand. His body started to take a corkscrew type
of effect.

“This is going to hurt… A lot.”

He pushed his arms in front of his head, and he hit the ground, face first. He hit and
bounced forwards, flopping onto his back, and sliding to a stop. There were several
pops and snaps, as his body broke and turned into a morbid rag doll. Now the dead
couldn’t die, and the spirit would always live, regardless to what happened to the
body, but this place changed that, because the wolf’s lights were out as soon as he
hit the sand.

He was far from dead; this place would make sure he suffered… Death was a
release, not a punishment, after all. Juste’s ‘body’ was pushed into an instant coma
like sleep, although he was not alone… Not for long at least, the denizens of this
place would consume him after a few hours, if he were left alone. There was a
shadow that was already at Juste’s ‘body’ and she kept the denizens away, those
who got close combusted into flames, and were turn to ash, this was permanent
death.

The darkness was more or less all that he saw, no dreams no real influence was
upon him, although there was this godless chill that took a hold of him, which made
his head move in a shaking motion. His body laid motionless, still ruined from the
fall, and the wounds he carried over with his body’s death, which meant a pool of
‘blood’ flowed under him, although it was more like oil, that was watered down a bit.

The blood itself didn’t pool up too much, as the sand soaked it in, as if it was feeding
off Juste. Time seemed to warp for the wolf; it felt like hours, maybe days... But in
reality it’d be a couple of hours, with three hours to be the maximum. This would be
when a voice entered the wolf’s subconscious, pervert the silence and darkness of
his dreams, but the same time… It seemed to bring relief, as if he was comforted by
the voice of this spirit.

”Wake up…. Wolfe, wake up and prepare for what’s to come…. Wake up, wake up…”

Juste groaned, and shook his head lightly, before his eyes prying themselves open,
he knew better than to refuse what –that- voice told him… Since he had an eternity
of servitude towards the one who owned said voice. His body shook awake, and as
soon as he could see the sky, his eyes shot open, wide open.

This was as if something pulled those lids open. He wanted to get up, but his body
refused its commands… And instead punished him with pain, and a series of powerful
coughs that pained his chest cavity, spurts of this black ‘blood’ flew into the air,
landing beside him.
”… This sucks.”

II – Unknown

“You shouldn’t be surprised… You know the deal we had.”

The darkness seemed suppressing, although for some reason he had no real problem
with looking through it, the fire burn brightly in his vision. Although this wasn’t
strange, considering that this was his supposed home, so his eyes were slowly
getting used to the darkness that would blind mortals if the darkness was stared into
long enough.

“It’s not that, I just… Can’t move, ya’kno? I feel like a fucking rag-doll.”

He laid his head upon the sand, the back of it at least. He looked up to the shadow,
knowing she was looking down at him. As he lay there, there was a slight chilling
feeling, which wasn’t too odd, knowing the chill he felt when he woke up, although
the chill turned into heat, as if the beginning chill was gasoline, and the heat was the
match that ignited it. Juste grit his teeth, and he tilted his head back.

“This doesn’t feel good.”

He said, pushing it past his clenched teeth, as his body was slowly pulled up from
the ground that he laid upon, slowly raising him up higher and higher. The wolf’s
limbs were limp as the limbs of a raggedy type of doll. As Juste sustained spinal
column injuries upon landing, his back arched forwards unnaturally, which made
Juste scream, it was quite loud, although no louder than any other type of scream
that was heard within hell. His tail did the same as most of his body, it was limp, and
was pulled down by gravity.

“I know… But it is for the best, just close your eyes and calm your mind…”

Juste’s eyes closed, and he sighed deeply, his head lent down enough so that it
almost seemed it was going to pop from its spot between his shoulders. The pain
that came from his breaking still wrecked all points of his body, especially his neck,
although it was far from broken. The pain seemed to subside for a moment,
including the pain of his broken body and the gunshots that were carried over, then
his body was over taken by what seemed to be extreme heat, just before his body
was consumed within white fire.

The fire was painful, although it was more ”Fire” type of pain than anything holy,
although the fire was of place, white was something that was uncomment in this
place. After a flew moments the fire died, and Juste’s body dropped upon the
ground, it landed with a thump, although this didn’t flare up the pain he had before,
the female that guided him decided to restore his ‘body’ like it was, with some new
clothing to boot.

Juste’s eyes remained closed for several minutes after he hit, his limbs moved slowly
as he seemed to writhe upon the said, the nerves hyper sensitive. Only after a few
minutes of this, His eyes were opened when he felt something kick him in the sides.

”Alright you, get your lazy ass up off the ground.”


There were two more kicks before Juste got to his side, and he lifted himself up to
his paws and knees, then to one knee, and finally upon both feet, his paws rose up,
and he held onto his head, those gloved paws resting upon his eye sockets, a soft
groan escaped the wolf’s muzzle.

“My eyes…”

He let his muzzle drop and his paws fall to his side as he walked a bit to a pool of
what appeared to be black water… Most likely from the rain that came down earlier...
His face seemed different, the face-paint was more elaborate: Top half of his face
was red, with the sockets black, and a triangular spike like shape that was joined to
the outer corner of his sockets, this was left black as well. His muzzle was white,
there were stripes of fur that wasn’t dyed, and there were parts of his lower muzzle
and the underside that wasn’t dyed white or red. His eyes were different: They were
not solid black, the pain soon went away, but this was new to him.

Juste looked upon the sky: The darkness was somewhat gone, and once again.
Those flames were quite visible to him, and set the thought of where he was deep
into his brain. His body turned towards his right, and he looked upon the scene that
was before him.

“Yes… This is your home, hopefully you’ll find something that’ll keep you occupied.”

Juste shook his head a few times, before turning his vision to her.

“If I don’t find some way to claw myself out of here.”

He chuckled a little, then he looked down a bit, She had changed his clothing when
she re-formed his body. His clothing style was still intact: Loose clothing, heavy
boots and fatigue style pants. The fatigues were in shades of reds, grays and
blacks… Unlike the original pair were. His boots were the same, although they were
buckled, and his fatigues were stuffed into the top of his boots.

Juste’s gloves were the same, although they weren’t torn up and bloody, and to
replace the useless shirt he had on, was a new jersey. To top it off was a black
stocking cap, although he pulled it off of his head, and stuffed it into one of the big
cargo pockets, just to make sure that he didn’t get over-heated. His hair was still
done up in dreadlocks.

”… I haven’t heard of anyone getting out of hell before.”

Juste chuckled a little bit, looking towards the massive city like land, into those
flames. They danced unnaturally, they weren’t as quick as flame usually was, and
yet they burnt… The air seemed to warp and wave, mostly above those flames

“I’m not one to sit and play along with what was given to me, besides… If I know Vic
as well as I do, he’s probably going to do the same thing, and I don’t want that, not
before I get out at least.”

Juste started to walk towards the city, although after a few steps, some invisible
force stopped him. Which formed into the spirit that guided him through the years.
“Aren’t you going to ask for your machete?”

III – Unknown

“No, because there’s something wrong here, and if I’m right, a machete wouldn’t be
enough.”

Juste turned and walked through, he felt the spirit follow him as he walked down the
sloped path that will eventually take the male to the city that was going to stand in
his way of self-crafted salvation.

“I don’t get it… Something’s wrong?”

Juste shakes his head, and stops after a few more steps.

“During my hears of listening to my music, and you know what I mean by ‘my
music’.’ As I watched what went on after my dead… There was a spirit like entity,
almost like you. Although he was cloaked, at first I thought he was The Wraith…”

He kicked a bit of sand, looking over it while he took a moment or two of silence,
then he started to walk again.

”… But if I assume, he’s portrayed as a cloaked spirit, but he is in a red cloak,


although he could wear black. But the way the cloaked entity put me here is unlike
him, since The Wraith doesn’t violently push you through the portal, it’s more or less
putting you on the path, but then again this is just from the music.”

He shrugged a bit, and he walked the rest of the distance, he stopped and allowed
her to keep up, he felt the clawed hand upon his shoulder, his eyes looking straight
ahead, it wasn’t too far from the physical threshold of the city. The chill was still
there, although now it was more intense, now it was just straight spirit, and the
restriction of the physical world was gone from her spirit.

“That’s true, but it’s better with the machete, than without one. But if you don’t want
it, then what do you want?”

He turned his head in her direction. He stayed silent for a few moments, before
turning back towards the entryway.

“I want you to follow, just incase.”

The wolf continued on until he heard a slight disturbance within the dried air. He
turned his head toward its direction: It was another denizen that seemed to awake
from its apparent sleep, and now was awaked by Juste and the other, yet he couldn’t
see where the being was… There were several bodies that laid upon the area, some
decayed and others fresh. Body cavities were empty, and bones were exposed.

Juste soon ducked down, to run his digit tips along where the bones were exposed,
only to jump back as he looked upon the corpse… A moan of pain and twitching was
the result from his contact. Juste scanned the other bodies.

“So… They never die?”


She shook her head, as the spirit started to gain ground, eventually reaching Juste’s
position. Juste looked amongst the few “Corpses” that seemed to linger in their
resting spots. He moved between them, until he found one that seemed to make the
noise that drew his attention, although there was something that came to his
attention.

”… The souls that linger in hell can’t be destroyed if another soul kills them, they can
only suffer the pain that the other inflicts.”

Juste nodded a bit, as his paw went to a handle of what appeared to be a rusty
hatchet, this was kind of ironic… Mostly due to the fact that the first man he killed
that wasn’t on accident was with a hatchet. Was it fate? Juste didn’t know. He didn’t
care too much either; the hatchet was lifted up off the ground, the sand that clung
to it slowly dropped away from the rusted metal and dry rubber-like leather.

He pulled a bit of cloth from one of the bodies, before trying to clean what appeared
to be dried blood from the edge. The male spit upon said blade, in an attempt to wet
it down, since there was no water to be seen, not at that moment at least. He was
focused upon the blade, as if he knew something about it… Like it was in his paws at
one point in time.

“Uh… Juste.”

The wolf’s ears perked as he heard his name being spoken, he turned and looked
towards her, still cleaning the hatchet.

“What?”

She didn’t say a thing, although her shadowed arm reached out to point towards the
building upon the right, and the body that has now gotten up onto it’s feet.

”Oh hell no. What is this, Night of the Living Dead part 19?”

He watched the zombie like body walk towards him; this was almost like a shuffle,
but more human like than a zombie’s movement. Juste gripped the hatchet, turning
it in his paw so the blade faced down, and let his arms fall to his side. Juste slid his
hatchet in his cargo pocket, closing the flap on one side, so the hatchet won’t flop
around in his pocket.

By that time he watched it’s paws reach up for Juste’s neck, or try to at least. This
place brought the worst out of anyone who inhabited it. Juste reached up and
grabbing the side of what appeared to be a feline’s face… Only to grab his neck with
the other paw, he twisted the being’s head until several sickening crunches and
snaps were audible. Then he pushed the being’s body away.

”Fuck… This shit.”

Juste started off from his position, towards the remains of pavement that was the
transition from the barren, black-sand desert, to the hellish city. Those heavy-soled
boots thumped against the pavement, he stopped after a few steps, and he waited
for her, as soon as she was caught up, he’d scan the mage that was before him.
IV - Unknown.

The city before Juste was a hellish scene, although at first glance the wolf could tell
it was like the ghetto: Urban sprawl as far as his eyes could tell within the darkness,
the feel of pavement under his boot soles would tell him more than he could get by
looking down into the pavement.

” You know… You can always assimilate with me so you don’t get left behind. “

Juste Looked skyward, into that sky: Black as night, although the clouds that were
made out were darker, red lightning arced cloud to cloud, although there was no
rain. He saw said lightning touch upon the ground into the distance. He blinked a bit
while the lightning came down, this would heat up the already humid and hot
feeling. Although the choking effect on one’s body when within a humid environment
was not there, the need for Oxygen was nonexistent, so it didn’t matter.

Death and decay hung in the air like the musk of wet fur; blood wafted a heavy
copper type of smell that was overpowering compared to the rest... The smell was a
mix of fresh blood and the stagnant, rotten smell of blood that’s been dried for
nearly every. The stench was thick, and it’d overload one’s sense of smell and taste.
Juste was force to almost double over, holding his muzzle as he was hit hard with
said overload.

”Oh god, the smell…”

His body dropped down upon his knees, and was forced to be on his paws and
knees, well one paw at least. He held his waistline, while several dry heaves came
from him, until the wolf choked up what could only be described as a black, vicious
liquid that slowly spread from where it landed upon the cracked and crimson tinted
blacktop. A few low moans came from Juste, as he heaved a couple more times,
bringing up more of that fluid.

The area was dark, and yet the flames burnt brightly, lightning up the darkness. It
could clearly be seen, and at the same time… The darkness was blinding. There was
a slight sloshing sound that was in the background, as blood seemed to flow freely
from bodies that were strung up on broken and disused light-poles. It wasn’t much
blood, but it could be heard.

Buildings within this hell were in some form of destruction, they were either
crumbling or ruins of what used to stand in it’s place. Flames engulfed most things,
which only added to the hot and humid nature of this place. Anything metallic was
either twisted by the flames, or engulfed in rust, in one degree or another.

”You’re going to get nowhere if you don’t suck it up, you do realize this?”

He twitched his ears, and he looked about, the spirit that has been with so far, was
now in front of him, looking down upon the wolf as he was still knelling over the pool
of obsidian fluid that he coughed up. He looked up to her and slowly started to get
up, it was shaky, but he did get up.

”… I know, but you’re used to it, but I’m not.”


He shook his head as soon as he got up, pushing it beside him, he gave her a nod,
and she nodded, and took a few steps to him, until her shadowed form entered his,
and there was a bit of red light, before it disappeared, and he was left standing.

” Don’t worry about it, we need to get going. “

Juste started to walk forwards, his eyes took in more details, the various implements
of death that were strewn about, although he didn’t trust touching them… Not with
what happened when he touched upon the hatchet. He didn’t need them either; he
had his hatchet… And that’s all he’ll need, until he finds his machete at least. He
knew it was in this place somewhere. There was more movement, and it seemed
close, a moan or two every few moments.

This actually caused Juste to stop in his tracks, and he turned to watch the area
around him, he was sure there was going to be something that was going to pop up,
it was just a matter of time, and time he did not have. His pocket was undone, and
the hatchet was grabbed and he kept on moving, although after a few steps, there
was something else that caught his eye: A Butcher style of knife. He stopped and
stopped down, and he looked to it: It was fifteen to sixteen inches in total length,
the heft of the blade meant the tang must have gone through the entirety of the
handle.

The entire blade looked red, as if blood coated the entire blade. The hatchet was
pulled back, and he used the paw that held it, to hold the blade as he tried to get
most of the blood off the handle and blade, being careful no to cut himself as he
started to walk.

”Why are you taking time out to do this?“

He was questioned about his actions, he shrugged a bit.

”I’m arming myself, just incase. A knife will fill in until I get my machete back.”

When Juste got the knife, he had put himself in the distance, and when he walked by
one of those seemingly lifeless bodies that were strung up on the lamp post, the
body jerked, and swung at the male with a foot aimed to the head, which totally
caught the wolf off guard, and he reeled back in the opposite direction, his free paw
holding where he was kicked.

”Fucking ouch.”

The knife was grasped, with his other paw, and he turned his gaze to the body.
Growling a bit while his other paw rubbed where the foot made contact. The body
seemed to laugh at the wolf’s pain, which made Juste growl a bit. Juste swapped
paws, and the knife was put in the pocket with the hatchet, before it was grasp and
unsheathed, in a way.

The male stepped back to the corpse, and as he swung that foot out to kick, Juste
stepped to the side, and with his free paw, he grasped the foot, using the hatchet to
hack it off at the ankle with one or two swings, spraying the creature’s coagulated
blood upon the already crimson pavement, the foot was dropped and Juste went on
his way, leaving the apparent corpse to swing and scream bloody murder.
V – Unknown

It wasn’t just Juste that was within the grasp of hell, oh no… His enemy was here
too, although he seemed a bit worse off than the wolf was, but the wolf was not fully
prepared for the conflict…

The Werewolf’s eyes opened for the apparently first time. His body seemed to be
within an extreme amount of pain, although this lasted for what seemed to be a few
moments, well a few moments when he was awake, at least. He tried to move away
from what he was up against; it was a run down section of wall, from a crater type
of spot… Where a building once stood. He tried to move from this spot, but the pain
of something pulling upon muscle tissue was felt: His arms and legs were chained
down to the wall; rusty meat hooks pierced his skin, hooking around bone and
muscle.

Vic Screamed as he pulled the chain to the full slack-ness, the hooks pulling against
the bone and muscle that he was hooked by.

” WHO DID THIS TO ME? It was that bitch, Juste… He probably did this to me. That
bastard. I’LL KILL HIM. “

He continued to struggle, gritting his teeth until He pulled an arm from the chain,
the hook sliding painfully from it’s hooking spot, ripping muscle and cutting into bone
and flesh. This resulted in a scream, and an indescribable amount of pain that shot
both up and down his arm. Then his opposite leg was freed, and once more another
scream came from him. Although now he had an arm free, he slid the hook out of his
other arm, and did the same with the last chain.

Now with his body fully out of bondage, he started to shamble forwards, his legs
were damaged from the hooks, The leg that was freed without the help of his hands
limped more than his other leg. Vic groaned with each step, blood steadily dripping
from both arms, like it has been since he arrived and was hooked to that wall.

”Fucking… I’ll get you Juste…”

His tone of voice was a whisper, if that. The Werian was quite aware of the fact that
he was in hell, although his mind was more or less ignoring it, even though the thick
scent of decay, rust, and copper would over load his senses. Even if the heat made
him sweat profusely… The pain was still there, although his mind didn’t register it
too much after the first few steps. Obviously Vic was shaken up, the image of the
Wolf’s bat connecting with his skull, before being hit and dragged under that bus.

With his mind gone, a force that seemed to be like a wall soon stopped him. His
muzzle rose up as he looked upon the force that stopped him, although at first there
was nothing but thin air, or what constituted as air in this place. Although after a
moment there was a vision of what seemed to be a black cloaked being, the vision
that Vic held could make out the face, although this was only a rough guess.

”Who…”

Vic did not finish the question, because as he was asking, two rows of three red
lights made themselves seen within the darkness of the hood. And Vic gasped just a
bit, stepping backwards, going so far as to turn upon the leg that wasn’t harmed,
although as he did, there was a force that hit the Werian with enough force to send
him sprawling upon the pavement. He growled a bit, and tried to get up, although
there was another influence pushing the male so he could not get up, he could lift
his head, but he could not lift his arms, or his legs.

”Get off me! Seriously, if he put you up to this, I’ll kill the BOTH OF Y—“

His muzzle was snapped shut by another force. All the Werian could see was the
image of this cloaked being, closing in towards the male. This wasn’t like a hover or
a walking type of closing in, it almost was like he was phasing in and out, closing the
distance towards the male. A whimpering came from the big Werian, as he started to
struggle, apparently the bounds on his limbs were loosened enough to allow him to
struggle, but not get up.

Those eyes were brightly lit, and they stared unblinking as they stared upon him. As
soon as the cloaked one was close enough to Vic, forces changed, and the male was
pulled up, his face brought close to the cloaked one’s hood. And what Vic was shown
would make him angry: It was Juste, walking through the same city. And even then
there was more. He’d see a shadow that seemed to slightly cover the wolf’s ‘body’.

”WHAT?!”

The Werian shrugged a little more as he screamed out. He wanted to get down, and
the spirit let the Werian go, his body falling upon his feet, and the wounds that
where still festering in the Weran’s legs screamed when his soles hit the concrete,
this sent Vic onto his knees, screaming as his legs were unable to hold his body up
after he landed upon his feet…

This scream was not located to just that city of the city, Juste stopped in his tracks,
and he looked towards the direction of the scream, blinking a bit while he listened to
this scream, and the familiar tone of voice that seemed to ignite his memory, and
not in a good way.

”… Oh shit… I remember that voice.”

Juste gulped a bit, moving his body in this direction, he had to face off against the
male, although he didn’t know what was causing him this suffering… But what ever it
was, it was sure to be bad. He had the spirit on his side, so the Wolf was not scared.

The hatchet was gripped tightly; the blade still coated with the thickened blood of
the one corpse, the screams of the hanging body still was fresh in his memory, it’s
screaming was still heard, although this was more or less annoying to the wolf, but
then again he was the one thing that caused it.

”That voice?”

The spirit was late in responding; apparently it wasn’t being attentive, although one
couldn’t blame her for it, this place had too much in terms of attention grabbing
visuals… And most of said visuals weren’t pleasant.

”It’s… Vic.”

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