The First Floor (In Progress)

WARNING! THIS STORY IS ALL KINDS OF MESSED UP! DONT READ IT IF YOUHAVE A SOUL!

This story is rated R for: Suggestive language, suggestive sexuality, violence, gore, strong profanity, horror, and basically things that would make God cry.

This story is donated to everyone that's ever been to hell and back.

“Mama, we all go to hell,
Mama, we all go to hell,
It's really quite pleasant, except for the smell,
Mama, we all go to hell.”
-Mama by MCR


As Strike lay dying, his tiny weasel-like body gushing blood from eight bullet wounds, he knew exactly where he was going. He felt an incredible pain in his chest and he struggled to lift one of his razor sharp claws to pry a piece of shrapnel out of his flesh. His sage green fur was stained red with blood, both his own, and the blood of the brave officers that had stood in his way. One of the officers that remained stood over him, a gun in his hands.

“Any last words, you piece of shit?” the human officer said.

Strike stared defiantly into the deep brown eyes of the officer and said, “I'll see you in hell.”

The officer pulled the trigger of his pistol and a ninth bullet struck Strike in the head, blowing his brains out of the back of his skull. Strike's body went limp and his eyes rolled back into his head. The last thing he felt was incredible, blinding pain. Then, his soul crept out of his body, but instead of rising towards the heavens, it sunk down through the blood-soaked dirt as if heavy lead weights had been attached to it. Strike sunk lower and lower through miles of rock and stone, his jet black soul shivering with the uncomfortable sensation of being drowned in earth, before he realized exactly what was happening.

“So it is real,” he said to himself with the smallest hint of a smile on his face. “Well, it's not exactly a surprise that I'm finally getting there.” As what was left of him relaxed, he noticed the air was steadily getting hotter. “What in the-?” he muttered before being cut off as he suddenly dropped down into what seemed to be a beautifully decorated lobby. Soft elevator music played in the background and the air was pleasantly cool. However, the entire room smelled like rotting flesh, and as Strike looked around, he realized why. As he looked around the room, he saw many other Pokemon and humans, but each one of them appeared to be a zombie. Their skin was ripped from their bones, exposing muscles and organs. Several of them had exposed brains and as Strike looked down at himself, he screamed. His body looked exactly like it had when he was shot by the police, only now, he had the energy to realize what he was seeing. His torso was filled with wounds leaking blood and gore all over himself and the clean, tile floor. He turned around to try to find a way away from the madness, but instead he was confronted with a mirrored wall. He stared in shock and disgust as he saw half of his face was missing. All that was left was his long, red ear and one of his eyes. He screamed again and watched as his jaw fell out of his mouth and onto the floor.

“Hey, buddy, pick that up,” yelled a voice from behind him. Strike spun around and saw an Ursaring cradling half of its intestines to its chest with one arm. With its free arm it was pointing at the piece of Strike's jaw that had fallen to the floor. Strike stared at it with his remaining eye. The bear-like Pokemon moved forward menacingly, but an Absol quickly jumped between them.

“Hey there, Bernie, he's with me,” the Absol growled menacingly. She bent down and hooked the piece of Strike's jaw on one of her claws and shoved it back into his skull. The Ursaring grunted and stomped away.

Strike stared at the Absol before muttering, “Er...thanks.” The Absol didn't reply at first and he looked at her a little harder. Suddenly, it hit him. There was nothing wrong with her. Her pure white fur was unstained and she had all of her body parts. In fact, he thought, she's actually rather good looking.... Her face was almost angelic and he could see her tight muscles beneath her fur.

“You all right there, buddy?” she asked him.

He nodded stupidly. “Yeah. Erm...could you answer a question for me?”

She smiled sweetly. “Of course.”

“Where in the hell am I?”

The Absol's smile got bigger, to the point where it was almost mocking. “I think you've answered your own question. You are, in fact, in hell.”

Strike took this all in stride. “Well, I figured that's where I would end up,” he said nonchalantly, “But I always imagined it would be.....”

“Different?” the Absol suggested. Strike nodded and she said, “The hell you're thinking of is on the lower floors. This is actually only the first floor. All that fire, brimstone, and other good stuff is waiting for you below. Normally, you'd have to wait in line with everyone else to get down there.” She gestured to the crowd of horrific Pokemon and humans. Spike realized they were actually waiting in a very, very long line. “Fortunately,” the Absol continued, “That won't be necessary for you. You're a bit of a celebrity down here.”

“A celebrity?” Spike asked with a hint of awe in his voice.

“Yes, a celebrity. You see, in your few years on Earth, you managed to commit all seven mortal sins. Most people only manage to round up a couple unforgiven sins before they die. You, however, are one sick son of a bitch.” She smiled a little bit wider. Her grin now seemed to be maniacal. “Luckily for you, I like that in a man.” She lifted one paw off the floor and stroked Spike's head with it. He groaned lustily at the feel of her silky fur. “Whoa, boy. You better watch it or you're going to be in a load of trouble.”

“And why is that?” he said sarcastically.

The Absol's grin turned terrifying. “I'm the boss around here. I go by many names. Satan, Beelzebub, the Angel of Darkness, the Antichrist, and tons of others. My preferred name, however, is Lucifer, or Lucy for short. Pleased to meet you.”

Spike's mouth dropped open. “You can't be the devil,” he said, “You're a girl.”

“You thought the master of all darkness, pain, and evil was a man?” she cackled wildly. “You have a sense of humor, too. I think I might just like you.”

“Is that a good thing?” Spike asked nervously.

“Of course not,” Lucy said indifferently. “Now, if you ever want to start your punishment, we're going to have to speed things up.” She clicked the claws on one paw together and a clipboard appeared in her front paws. She sat back on her hind paws and began to write. As she wrote, she murmured under her breath. “Species,” she looked up briefly, “Sneasel. Crimes? All seven sins plus murder, thievery, rape, etc. Suggested punishment?” Strike looked at her expectantly. “That's a surprise,” she told him.

“So when does all this punishment start?” Strike asked calmly.

“How about.....Now?” Lucy trotted off towards the other side of the lobby and Strike tried to stand still, but his feet followed her of their own accord. Finding the feeling uncomfortable, he decided to give up trying to run from her. He caught up with her to find her standing in front of an elevator. Above the elevator was a small display showing nine floors. An arrow pointed to the floor the elevator was at. Currently, the arrow pointed towards the number nine. Suddenly, the doors popped open with a soft 'ping'. “Step inside, kid, we're going on one hell of a ride.” She laughed so hard her eyes rolled back up into her head.

“So,” Strike said uncomfortably, “This elevator goes to the other floors where my...punishment will take place?”

Lucy stopped laughing and smiled benignly, “Almost. You have everything right, except that this isn't an elevator.”

“It isn't?”

“Of course not, you silly boy! This is a hellevator! An elevator can only go up and down, but a hellevator can go sideways, slantways, longways, and backways....Any which ways you can think of!” Lucy said excitedly.

Strike stared at her with an odd look on his face. “Is that from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory?”

Her eyes widened. “Shh....Don't tell anybody, kid, or I'll make you regret it.”She started laughing again and Strike sighed in relief when the elevator stopped and made another small 'ping'. “Oh goody, the second floor! This one is the punishment for wrath.” For a moment, Strike could have sworn her eyes were glowing red, but it might have been his imagination.

Lucy stepped out of the hellevator and Strike followed her nervously. He winced as his foot touched the ground outside. It was burning hot, as though he was walking on coals. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air. Tears filled Strike's eyes as he walked across the fiery, dusty ground. He looked at Lucy expectantly, but she didn't seem to feel anything. Of course, he thought.

Lucy turned around and cleared her throat before screeching, “DEMONS!” Strike heard a loud fluttering sound above him and looked up to see the sky was filled with Murkrow. The black, raven-like birds descended upon him, screeching loudly. Then, as quickly as they had come, they disappeared except for one. The remaining Murkrow had a long scar over one eye and he was missing patches of feathers in several places. When he opened his beak to squawk, Strike saw that half of its tongue had rotted away. “Read the charges, demon,” Lucy said lazily. She snapped her claws together and a long roll of paper appeared in front of the Murkrow and hung in the air.

“Charges involving wrath,” the Murkrow shrieked, “Too many murders, assaults, insults, and vile words to count!”

“Good job, demon,” Lucy said and with another snap of her claws, the Murkrow disappeared. She turned to Strike. “Insult and injury? You really know how to make me happy. In any case, I have picked out the very best punishment for you.”

Strike gulped. “What is it?”

“Don't look so nervous,” Lucy chided, “It's very simple. All you have to do is destroy one of the Pokemon or humans on this floor.”

“And how do I do that?” Strike asked.

Lucy winked. “You have to figure that out. By the way, I'll be watching you.” She snapped her claws and vanished.

Strike looked around the floor he was on. There were many other Pokemon and some humans running around and attacking each other. Most of the humans, being physically weaker than the Pokemon, were laying on the ground having been all ready hacked to bits. Strike winced as a single finger inched by him, looking for the hand it had fallen off of. This should be easy, he thought, I was always good in fights. With that thought, he leaped forward and sliced a Charmeleon that had walked by almost completely in half. The orange lizard Pokemon groaned and made an ugly sloshing noise as its two halves slipped away from each other. Blood spilled out from the twitching body in front of Strike. “Done,” Strike said aloud. When nothing happened, he looked down at the Charmeleon in front of him. It was still attempting to move, so Strike sliced it into quarters. When that didn't work, he tried eighths, then sixteenths. Finally, he gave up and stomped away. He looked down at his blood covered claws and cursed loudly. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his chest. He looked down to see a spike sticking out of his torso. He screamed loudly and the spike pulled out.

“Take that,” he heard a voice yell. Spike jumped around to see a Flareon burn the Beedrill that had stabbed him to a crisp. The wasp-Pokemon fell to the ground, while the Flareon started to walk away.

“Wait!” Spike called. He almost instantly regretted it as the Flareon turned back to look at him, a harsh sneer on its face.

“You got something to say to me?” he demanded, his red fur seeming to crackle like the fire that surrounded them.

“I just wanted to say thanks,” Spike mumbled. The Flareon lowered its hackles.

“Well, you're welcome I guess.” He began to turn away again, but Spike stopped him. “What else do you need?” the Flareon huffed.

“How did you get here?” Spike asked.

The Flareon sighed. “Here, meaning hell?” Spike nodded. “I killed another Pokemon in a fight. My temper got ahead of me. If I could go back....” He shook his head. “Either way, I'm here now.” Spike opened his mouth to tell his story. “Save it, kid. We all know how you got here, you sick bastard.”

“You do?” Spike asked incredulously.

“Of course. How could we not hear about you? After what you did....”

Spike wanted to say he hadn't meant it, but he had. “Well....I'm sorry,” he said, and he at least meant that, “It was nice to talk to somebody that wasn't insane.”

The Flareon chuckled. “Yeah. I guess talking to you is better than nothing. Good luck.” The Flareon turned to walk away for the last time and it disappeared.

Spike's eyes widened in confusion and time seemed to freeze. All of the Pokemon and humans who had been attempting to kill each other were frozen in place. Spike turned around and saw Lucy standing behind him. “You did surprisingly well. However, that wasn't really a punishment. It was more of a...test. You had to get someone on this floor to talk to you without killing you. Now his soul can move on to his next punishment. The next one will be funner.” She smiled insanely again. She snapped her claws and the hellevator door appeared in front of them. This time, the arrow in the display pointed to the eight. As Spike stepped into the hellevator and felt a curious soothing feeling. He looked down at his chest and saw one of his bullet wounds closing up. He looked to Lucy for an explanation. “Oh, that's part of your surprise punishment at the end. Enjoy it while it lasts.” Lucy pushed the down button with one claw. “Next stop, Gluttony!” she howled. The elevator slowly descended and Strike felt awkward for a moment.

“So, er....How did you get this job?”

Lucy looked at him like she had just noticed him. “That's a funny story, actually. At one point, I lived up there, with the big guy.” She pointed upwards. “I was the prettiest angel. Some may say, the best angel. Unfortunately, being as insane as I am, I attacked the big guy one evening with some other, er...'disgruntled' angels. It didn't work out so great.”

“That's....” Once again, Strike was saved by the 'ping' of the elevator as it reached the seventh floor. This time, rather than come with him, Lucy simply shoved him out of the hellevator and smiled.

“Have fun,” she said, “I'll be watching again.”

Strike watched as the hellevator disappeared. He turned around to find that he was in what seemed to be in a Chinese restaurant. Around him were several other zombie Pokemon and humans. They were eating indifferently, as if they were at a McDonald's back on the surface. He grimaced as at a nearby table, a Pikachu's eye rolled out of its skull and onto its plate. Without hesitation, it picked it back up and jammed it into its eye socket. Strike felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Excuse me, sir,” said a man wearing a tuxedo, “Would you like me to show you to your seat?”

Strike nodded and then realized that the man had no eyes. “Yes, please,” he said somewhat loudly.

The man smiled. “I can hear you just fine. I still have both ears.”

Before Strike could respond, the man was pulling out a chair for him and Spike sat down wordlessly.

“May I start with your charges?” Without waiting for an answer he continued, “Your charges pertaining to gluttony are...Refusing food to those in need, eating more than what was necessary, and eating things that are not meant to be swallowed.”

Strike looked confused at the last one.

The waiter sighed. “Once when you were in college,” he started, but Strike quickly stopped him. “Shall I bring you your dinner, then?”

Strike nodded. The waiter snapped and several trays of food appeared on the table. The aroma of the meal reached what was left of Strike's nose and he began to drool. He quickly shoveled food into his mouth until there was none left. It didn't take him more than five minutes. The waiter smirked at him. “So did you enjoy your meal?”

“Very much so,” he said and stifled a burp.

The waiter grinned wider. “Do you feel anything...unusual?”

As a matter of fact, Strike felt an odd wriggling sensation in the pit of his stomach. Suddenly, the wriggling changed to pain. Strike doubled over. “What did you put in my fucking food!?” he demanded. “It feels like something's eating my stomach!”

The waiter began to howl with laughter. Tears came from his empty eye sockets.

Strike's eyes widened. “No! You didn't! No, no, no, no, no,” he moaned. Then he began to vomit. The vomit was nothing but bile and something squirmy and tiny that Strike realized with horror, were maggots. He began to scream. He felt an incredible pain in his stomach and he looked down. He still had the hole that the Beedrill had created earlier. Inside the hole, he saw his own intestines, but as horrifying as that was, what was worse was the spot where he could see the maggots chewing their way through. He vomited again and watched his stomach contract. He continued to throw up, but he couldn't get rid of the maggots. Finally, he felt a sudden pain in his head. His eye popped out and when he went to pick it up, thousands of maggots were inside of it. He screamed again and passed out.

When he woke up, he was face to face with Lucy. “Did you enjoy your dinner?” she asked sarcastically.

Strike quickly jumped to his feet and looked down. The hole in his stomach was gone and he couldn't feel anything moving inside of him. He carefully placed his hands over his eyes. He still had both of them. Assured that he was once again whole, he turned to Lucy. “What the fuck was that? You put maggots in my food! What kind of sick-”

Lucy cut him off. “Sweetie,” she said with just a hint of a smirk, “You're in hell. Do you get what that means?” She condescendingly tapped his head with one paw. “Hello? Anybody in there?” Before Strike could say anything, she said, “By the way, I've gone ahead and decided to skip the hellevator. We're on the sixth floor now. You'll like this one.”

Strike climbed to his feet and dusted himself off. He looked around and saw he was in some kind of nightclub. Hundreds of zombie Pokemon and humans were dancing under pulsating lights. Loud music was blaring. “What am I supposed to do?” he started to ask, but Lucy was all ready gone. Frustrated, he began to push his way through the crowd, not knowing what to look for. This is stupid, he thought, What am I supposed to be looking- Then, he saw her. She was another Sneasel, but unlike most, she wasn't a dark, forest green. Instead, she was a bright pink. The golden feathers on her tail shone under the annoying spot lights. Strike's jaw literally dropped to the floor. He picked it up and pushed it back in. He looked up at the other Sneasel again and she winked at him. He began to push his way through the crowd towards her, forgetting where he was. When he came upon her, she locked claws with him, and dragged him into a back room.

“You're moving a bit fast, sweetie,” he said, almost purring.

She giggled and blushed before saying. “Do you know what your crimes pertaining to lust are?”

Strike suddenly sobered up. “Christ,” he mumbled, “Not this shit again.”

The female Sneasel continued as if she hadn't heard him, “Rape, infidelity, and of course, infanticide for the purpose of sexual activities.”

Strike's eyes widened. “It was an accident!” he yelled and tried to leave, but the other Sneasel was too fast. She grabbed him and stared into his eyes. Suddenly, he could no longer move. She picked him up in her arms as though he were light as a feather and placed him in a cage that he hadn't noticed earlier. He tried to break free from her grip, but he couldn't move. She locked the door to the cage and lit a fire beneath it. At first, he tried to jump away from the fire, but it didn't seem to be harming him. He settled down. Then, the faint sound of the club music changed to a folksy sounding song.

“Love, is a burning thing, and it makes a fiery ring, bound by wild desire, I fell into a ring of fire,” the song seemed to reach into Strike's mind and wrap around his brain.

What the hell is this? he wondered. He began to struggle again, but like before, the female Sneasel locked eyes with him. He began to feel a warmth in the lower half of his body that had nothing to do with the fire beneath his feet. The female Sneasel drew closer to him and even with the cage in between them, he could barely control himself....Suddenly, the fire leaped up and began to burn him. He screamed and looked down at his rapidly blackening flesh. However, as much pain as he was in, he couldn't ignore the Sneasel in front of him. He felt himself giving into his urges....The pain grew worse and worse as the fire snaked its way up his body and began to consume him. He managed to whimper, but other than that, no noise passed his lips. The other Sneasel reached forward and stroked his fur, but the fire didn't seem to hurt her. However, as they made contact, the fire seemed to explode into an inferno. Strike looked down at himself and saw nothing left but a skeleton. The skeleton fell apart, but he could still feel the fire cracking his bones....

Once again, the first thing he saw when he regained consciousness was Lucy. “Oh God,” he said, “That was terrible.”

Lucy merely smiled. “Now, now,” she said, “Thou shalt not take the Lord's name in vain.” She laughed horribly. Strike could feel a kind of phantom pain from the fire that had consumed him, but he seemed to be much the same as he was before the sixth floor. “Our next stop is the fifth floor. How are you liking hell, love?”

Strike scowled at her and raised an eyebrow. “You're joking, right?”

“Everything I say is a joke. I thought you would have figured that out by now! Well, I suppose you aren't perfect. You did end up here after all.” Her smile suddenly grew larger again. “How did it feel to have your claws slicing through innocents? It's been so long since I've been able to cut into anyone other than the zombies down here. Still, that has its perks.” She reached forward and knocked Strike's head off with one blow of her paw. Curiously enough, he felt both his body and his head. For a moment, his body seemed to be searching for his head, but Lucy sighed and popped it back on top. “You were making a fool of yourself,” she said simply. The hellevator 'pinged'. “I think I'll come with you to this floor. Pride is one of my favorites.” The doors opened and she dragged Strike out. They appeared to be standing on some sort of a stage. Lucy snapped her claws and a microphone appeared in front of Strike. “Knock 'em dead, sweetheart,” she said and jumped off the stage.

Strike looked at where she had landed and saw an incredible crowd of zombie humans and Pokemon. They all seemed to be cheering for him. Strike felt a bit nervous and looked down at his feet. The cheering grew louder and he couldn't help looking up. Lucy was in the front row staring at him, a wicked grin on her face. “Tell them all about how you got here,” she called from the audience. The audience seemed to agree with her and their screaming increased in volume. “Tell them exactly what you did,” Lucy shouted.

Strike gathered his courage as best he could and stepped forward. "Err..." he began unimpressively. " I'm here, because I have done many, many bad things." The audience roared its approval.