
"Pretty people aren't as accepted as other people. It comes with all these stigmas." ~Misha Barton. So true, girl.
20Please respect copyright.PENANAFzsupviN2A
At this point we were or really had being travailing for a long long time, like maybe half a week or something. It wouldve been pretty boring but luckily there was some tension and drama beween me and Scaaar since he was so hot and mysterious and tortured. He actually reminded me strongly of Ryan Gosling, only hotter and younger pobviously. At the same time tho I resisted our amazingly good chemistry due to how because come since we me and Deren where or had being together even still, like, and that meaned alot to me on a deeep and emotional level, so I didnt do anything overly romantical or flirty or anything……meaning just maybe a bitty bit because I couldn’t help it! “We’re here now,” Scurvy said darkly, voice also dark and menacing but not in a creepy way, moreso in a way that suggested that maybe there was going to be some dangerous or/and menacing shit in the near future maybe. “Here where?” I inquired intelligently, noticing the environment had gotten more spookier and sharp-seeming. We had travelled from Everemourne eyeland back onto the regular world, and from there we had stolen a couple cars and some money so that we could drive deep into the southwest. Finally we had arrived at some sort of famous Sonoren-type desert, even though it probably wasnt that specific desert since we wheren’t in Cali anymore but actually the southwest like I said, so maybe like Nevada or something. In fact, we had just travelled to Las Vagas, which was of coarse still in the southewest like I just said.
Flashing lights and dusty dry heat blistered all around us even in the washed-out neon nighttime, and the city seemed like one giant gaudy motel. There were casinos and hotels and resteruants and strip clubs clustered around the general everywhere, and all the meanwhile there was a giant emoji half0buried into the sandy dusty shitty-sawdust ground right plop right inside the center area of the city. “Wow, that’s so cool,” I admired awefully, and I lowkey gripped Scaar’s scarred hand since we had just goggen done with going out to a restauraunt to eat since we hadn’t eaten since we had left the Academy, and so it wasn’t really something I could say no to, and also I hadn’t known that it would kind sorta urn into a date thing, but as it was I felt really gritty since im such a loyal and cardiac-anemical person, allthiough I had to admit also that it was really nice and romanric and that Scaaar was so hot in the bright night light beamers sense they made his missiles stand out and also his scars too——notice that I was still curious and inquisitive and intrigued and confused and purplexed by those, but for nowsers I had no answers. “Yeah it is pretty cool I guess,” he recipricated romantically.
Then we went back to the earlier thing of trying to find the place we where looking for. “Here where?” I inquired intelligently just like before. “The entrance,” Scales informed densely, voice roughing huskily, also continqueuing in that same similar voice: “Th eentrance to Damnaton.” he added dramatically, flourishing slightly. “But all I saw were a flat cliff-pit thing with weird simbols and gliphs barfed all over it!” It was true. All I saw were a flat cliffpit tingies with weird sombols and weird gulphs barfed everywhere over it. (Besides the city all around sus, ofc).
So then what happened what was that Acar shooshed me by putting two pale fingers onto my lips which was tots romantic but also painful bc of the Deek sitch, but than he also continued by stopping that and doing something else which was to grab a knife from his pants and suddenly stab himself. ‘WHAAAT? Scaar stop it babe! You’llr hurting urself!” He grimaced grimily, still cutting his wrists, and suddenly out of nowhere blood stopped pouring out of his wrist wounds onto the ground! “Ughh im so depressed but also used to this,” he spat spittily, voice beaming bitterly, and then he spread his blood all over the door that was covered in glyphs. Suddenly and just like that, the cave-cliff-pit-wall thingy flashed and pulsed evilly! A large section maybe two miles across suddenly sank down into the earth with a small grinding noise and an evil waft of sulfur. It had been a door all along! “Wow,” I concised efficiently, eyes widening adorably. “Wow Chloyce,” Scaar commented, unable not to. “You are so tots cute and adorbs rn.” Then that’s when he kicked himself and grimed grimly, sulky and tortured again instantly. Poor Scaar, i thought poorly. “Yeah. Poor cute Scaal,” I agreed sadly, following Scaal through the small opening and down into a deep pit ringed with cold stony stairs. Inside the ancient ruined stairwell, there was no light, and from below I could hear distant echoes of things I couldn’t name. Every thing I noticed was has been built out of iron and stone, and there was a sick uncomfortable creepy feeling that hung heaver than a 600-pound serial killer receiving his sentence in Texas. It hung so heavy, going on the same track, that I almost felt like I wanted a rope to hold it up.*
“Come on already, follow me,” Scaar said shakily, seeming shy and uncertain for some mysterious and uncertain reason. I studied his pale face as if it were a PhD, and noticed that he was definitely uncertain and nervous and just generally uncomfy. It was almost like he was actually secretly regretful for some unknown reason, but I couldn’t imagine what that could was. So instead of thinking I just followed him, Martens clacking on the creepy cold stone steps, and we descended in silence for about sixty miles.
Then, out of nowhere and extremely suddenly, we where vomited out by the starwall into a hot, smoky, spiky, spiny, creepy-crawly down-underground blood-stained Satan-reign ugly-ass-sin basement-like landscape. Or maybe a better word would be hellscape. “This is it,” Scaar said scarringly. “Home sweet home,” and I noticed his voice was so incredibly unimaginably impossibly inconceivably bitter it was almost gross even just to hear it, even tho he was still hot and stuff and mostly it just made me sad but also curious.
20Please respect copyright.PENANApL4TAv0EAg
This was it. We were in hell itself!!
*20Please respect copyright.PENANADsnwMc1FzM
**20Please respect copyright.PENANAGg9bmEjvEx
****
I gasped once again in shock and suprise and even hororr as the nightmarelike enviromnents unfolded themselves around us. There were hills made of bloody meat, soot-stained stalagctites spearing down/up towards us like the teeth of a huge cavern-like stony creature, which made since sense we where in a planet-sized cave. There where lakes of boiling blood filled with sholes of bleached bones, and huge piles of gummed-up gunk shit out by giant fanged worms dripping acid snot all over everywhere, and flocks of flying centipedes clickering creepily through the thicc clouds of sulfurous poisonous smoke, which belched and farted out from extranormous cracks and caves broken through the sharp rocky ground. In the far distant we could see a hugeormous fortruss made of scalding iron and human skulls, so big it stretched beyond the spiky mountainlike horizon-type-thingy at the edge of our sight. The whole entire time, Screams and curse words filled through the air, falling more thickly than ex-laxxed starling shit in summertime. “The screams of the damned,” Scaak said seriously, voice grim, grave, and dark. Kind of like Derek… So that meant I was still lowkey pinning for him. But at the moment I couldn’t not focus on that for now, because we passed a giant field of crosses where people where spiked up like Jesus, only they didn’t seem to be giving up their ghosts (I wondered internally whetehr/if they/people here even had ghosts/spirits/souls??) and just hung there screaming and crying. “They call it the Pasture of Symphonies,” Derek said bitterly, scars rippling over his toned muscles that I could see through/under/around his outfit, voice dark and grim and gravely. “Like, why though? That doesn’t make any sense…does it?” “It does,” he confirmed, continueing: “Its because the screams are like music for them.” “Wow, that’s awful and totally evil,” I surmised correctly. “Yeah it totally is,” Scaal confirmed redundantly but still helpfully. The road——which I just now realized was actually made out of teeth and fingernails and broken glass——led up over a hill, and suddenly we could see out over the fields, which suddenky we could see were actually even bigger than at first glance or initial inspection. There were football-sized fields fulled to the brim with millions of people packed like pickles in acid baths, and soccer-sized fields filled up all the way with thousands more staked on iron spikes Vladdily, and stadium-sized pits field with billions of poople being tortured in ways I won’t say. There was all of this and more, all swirling and burning and being evil and awful and stinky, and it all seemed to lead up towards a tower in the near distance.
The tower was tall and evil.
“That’s the place,” Scaaal said raspily, pointing for no reason. “That’s where, like, this wizard guy lives? And he can help us? And we can convince him to leave with us? And also to help us? Or actually Dererk I guess?” Scaaal cocked his head as if so that he could think, and also nodded his head, answering quickly and promptly. “He doesn’t live there, he’s in prisoned there. Also————Yes, yes, yes, probably, and no.” I laughed a bitty bit, bobbing. “Wow, aren’t we so witty,” I admired half-jokingly but still pretty humbly. “So true,” Scaj joked, joining in. WE shared a moment then, just kind of staring at each other in a cute and awkward way. Then it was time to be serious and get to the next part, so we tromped up toward the tower.
“One free wizard, coming up!” Scars said jokingly. Then he was really depressed and sad and tortured again, and somehow I instinctualively understood that it was just me that was letting him forget his crippling issues, which was honestly kind of hot and romantic. No! We came here to help Derek! “True,” I admitted agreeably, and quickly changed gears (not literally tho. Duh.) by starting the process of freeing this mysterious wizard guy locked inside the tower. T hat was cause I didnt really trust myself too all that much around Scaaak since he was so unfairly hot and tragic and mysterious and also because I’m a bleeding heart. No, scratch that. I’m a fucking hemrroahging heart. So I took my chances with the tower and its giant locked door.
“Hello? Mr. Wizard? Hel-lo…? Anyone home…?!” I sighed dramatically and flopped down against the tower. “This is impossible. Who knows if he’s even in there anyway?” Scaar stood in a strange position that reminded me of a braindead chimp, although that sounds tots gross when he was still hot and stuff like I said. “Me. I do. I know if he in there, and he is for sure,” Scaal scuttered, kicking at the door. “Hello? Anyone there? This is Scaal!” He huffed a minute, glaring at the door for being in his way. “We’re here to free you! Wake up already and answer us!” At last he flopped down next to me. “Damn. Guess…I guess this might be it.” I cried a bittle bitty bit then, because that would mean that Derek was screwed, and that would mean that I was screwed too ((or actually, not screwed, I guess, but that’s a different conversation. Plus I meant it more metaphorically)).
Suddenly, and just as it seemed to anyone reasonable that we had no chance of suceeding in our jounrey/quest to cure Derek and stop him from killing all my friends and also me, there knocked a knock at the door behind our heads. Simulinstantly we both turned those heads inward and toward the rear——toward the source of the sound, basically. “Umm…hello?” I offered tentalizingly, confused. “Please…peas…help…” Shocked and stunned, me and Scaal both leapt to our feet and pressed our ear to the door to hear better. Or actually I did that while scaars kept an eye out for monsters. “Hello? Mr. Wizard guy? We’re here to break you out!” I heard a laugh from inside. “Thank the Elder Serpent! Here, press that small stone that looks like a snail that’s near the ground!” I tweaked dubiously. “But why though? There’s like, a door right here.” The reply was muffled, hurried, and also panicked, and also muffled (double-muffled). “Listen to me child! You must not, I repeat must not, open that door! If you do, the immortal snails will be released——all three thousand of them! Just press the rock in three times and twist it clockwise.” I nodded, but suddenly there was a massive centipede monster trying to eat me. Blood drooped from its drools, and I saw it had giant spider fangs bulging with venom sacs, and scuttling legs shaped like knives, and countless human eyes bursting from its armored head. “Eww!” I screamed, shoving it backward with magic. It lurched back a bitty bit, but instantly I knew that Hellspawned creatures were resistantive to magic. “What the fuck! That shove was enough to send the Washington monument into space and straight up Cthulu’s ass!” But it didn’t matter because the monster was about to kill me.
Then Scaar jumped in and used karate to kick it backwards. I saw that he had actually used 1000 kicks in one second, and red lightining shot all over his leg and jumped between his scars. The force of the superspeed magic kicks blew the beast’s carapace open. The moment that happened boiling blood and gore spewed out like the bug was a punctured can of easy-cheese. Scaar stepped aside, letting the blood splash thickly onto the wooden door with the immortal snail curse. I winced, but no snails dropped down to hunt us, so figured we were OK. “Wow, thanks,” I thanked gratefully in appreciation, but suddenly more monsters were attacking us. “Open the tower already! I’ll hold them off!” Scaarl snarled, whirling back into the fight with more magical martial arts bullshit. I noticed something, but of course that would ruin the moment, so instead of telling it I just turned to the tower and crouched down, finding the right stone. I gripped it carefully and pushed it in, but it was too old and rusted or whatever, so instead I sat down and kicked out with my Martens. Instantly the block sank down with a noise like the combined knee cracks of every care home and physical therapy clinic on the goddamn planet. Then, carefully following the wizard’s instructions, I grapped the stone and twisted it to the left.
With a click and a poof, the rock sank into the ground and also disapparated. Immediately and even instantly, I heard scuffling from the newly-created (or actually newly recreated, or maybe actually revealed, or maybe actually rerevealed) hole, which was very cobwebby, and soon enough an old man with gray fizzy hair and an open vest was struggling through the hole, which was way too small for him. “Hurry Chylce!” I heard Scaar scream. I donated a glance and saw he was currently a small tornado since he was spinning so much. He grimaced in pain and agony for some mysterious reason, but at least he was killing the monsters. Their dead bodies were piling up pretty fast, almost like he was eating them and shitting them out, although that wasn’t very accurate obviously. But suddenly I saw why how come he was worried, which was because there were giant building-sized monsters crawling toward the tower, and also a sea of smaller monster-like thingies also crawling towards the tower around their feet/tentacles/bodies/whatever (although that didn’t actually cover it since because they also jumped and ran and flew and tumbled and rolled and skipped and slithered and hopped and flipped and teleported and shit, since they were all different creatures and definitely not the same exact creature in different disguises).
Suddenly the wizard popped into putty and stretched through the hole, standing up upright in a way that was just like those flappy air-tube thingies people put in front of car dealerships and convenience stores. Then he went back to normal and stopped being weird.
Immediately I noticed that he was black. “Ummm…whaaaat…?” Negegoregondero looked at me in confusion, wrinkle-crinkling his bushy white eyebrows that looked like they weighed at least 2 lbs apiece. In terms of his face he definitely had one. Also, he kinda looked like The Weeknd, mixed maybe with Morgan Freeman or Drake. Also he had magical orang eyes with collidoscope irises (as in the pupil, not the flower. Duh.) and he also wore a glittery Arabian vest with sequins open over the top an pair of purple parachute pants that also looked straight from 1001 Knights. His chicken-boney calves were all wrapped up in Egyptian mummy-wrappings and he wore one pair of jika-tabi ninja shoes, and also had a bunch of magical rings and wrist bangles (bling, basically) dangling on his hands and wrists like magical metal barnacles clinging to the dark hull of a sailing ship that was dark. He had a bulging utility belt hanging from his belt, and it twas loaded down with genie lamps and bottles of spices——wolfbane, witchbane, Old Spice———and also potions that were put in brown paper bags, and also he had a frizzy white afro and also there was a silver saxophone stuck down the back of his pants. “Wow cool sax,” I admired politely, also pointing. “Thanks,” Negegeerondo replied, and I noticed his voice was all scratchy and dry, giving off powerful Luiuis Amstrong or maybe even Morgan Freeman energy, although his eyes looked like more like Obama maybe (mixed maybe with Nile “da grass” Tyson because he also gave off professor type of energy), but and he spoke more like Martin Luther King if we’re being honest, although also very calm and collective like Dazzle Washington and yet with a crazy kind of kill-you energy that made me and also other people think more of Malcom Ex. Meanwhole he was flexing his silvery saxophone, which was covered in magical steampunky dials and magic blood rubies and magic star saphires and magic chaos emeralds. “It’s my magical instrument thing, like a wand, only more swaggier.” I nodded my head, confirming. “That’s so cool that you can have a wand thingie that can fit your type of culture.”
Immediately at that point the horde of giant worms started chasing us, making a noise that sounded like someone had made a “Dentist drill but slowed 1000% with reverb” video in IMAX. “Quickly!” Negegonero cried in his scratchy soulful voice, and he immediately whipped out his magical sax. This time, he sent a blast of compressed air backwards, stunning the hordes of monsters with an enormous tornado of ping-pong balls. Then he ripped open a glowing purple shitstain in midair and jumped through, yanking us along with telekipesis. At that exact moment, the pingpong ball-tornado turned into a pillar of thermonuclear explosions, vaporizing basically the whole Pasture of Simphonies/torturing area as well as probaby most of the monsters.
20Please respect copyright.PENANA029mvFvW4z
We had done it. We had escaped hell!