Innocently Damned

AN: All characters are (c) myself. ^^ (It's so nice not to put a disclaimer on these things.) This was born from having the song 'If I Were Gay' stuck in my head before seeing Silent Hill... So yes, it's a bit macabre. It is after all, hell. I hope to make this my novel, someday, and have it published. Enjoy~





Ozel sighed and picked up a stick, prodding the body that had washed up onshore. “Damn him, I swear I’m going to quit someday, if the deal wasn’t so damn good... Wake up, stupid!”

Groaning, the man looked up, holding his head. “Where am I?”

“You’re dead. And by the looks of where you came ashore, you were pretty naughty in your life time.” Ozel blinked, uncrossing his legs to lean closer to the man from the bolder he sat on. “Well now, that’s rare... What exactly did you do?”

“What?” His mind was foggy and his limbs felt heavy. Panic started to rise in his chest as he looked around, what his blurred vision told him was disturbing to say the least.

“Huh... Do you have a deal with someone here? No no, they would have picked you up personally if you did.” Ozel poked the man again, this time in the head. “What sort of things did you do in your life time?”

The man blinked, eyes focusing on the man... er... at least the sound of his voice made him think it was a man. Perched on a black rock, a blonde with curls and clear violet eyes watched him, reaching out with a porcelain-like hand to poke his forehead with a weathered looking stick. He focused his eyes on the black painted nails, and the lace covered wrist. It looked dirty, shining white skin showing through patches of black lace. The man hardly looked like a man, in a short skirted ruffled dress. “Huh?” Hardly intelligent conversation, but he was still dazed and confused.

Ozel sighed, “your sins. What did you do while you were alive?”

“I didn’t do anything! Where the hell am I?”

“Heh... interesting choice of words. You’re sort of there. In hell. Well, that’s what the people up there would call it. You have to be pretty hopeless to end up here. What’d you do?”

Sitting up, the man rubbed at his head. He was... dead? How and when did he die?! “I didn’t do anything!”

“Yeah yeah, that’s what all the newbies say. Usually though, I can tell by your sins... but there aren’t any that I can see on you. To appear down here unscathed, you have to make a deal with one of the lords. Which I’ll ask you again, what did you do and who do you have a deal with?”

“No one! The worst thing I’ve ever done was steal my brother’s porn!”

“Porn? Aaah, I did porn when I was alive. Until this one drug binge I was on, I killed a few people for some money, stole the coke from the dead dealer, and hid in my room. Stupid drugs, really. That’s how I ended up here; I over dosed on ‘em. I’m sure if I survived, I would have went on to make someone’s day in prison.” Ozel winked, hopping down from the rock.

Oh yes, he was a man, from the flash he most certainly didn’t want to see. “Ever hear of underwear?”

“Underwear are for losers.” Curious, Ozel pulled the back of the man’s shirt, peeking down to see if there were any evidence of sins.

“What’re you doing?!” The man jerked away, crawling further up shore like a crab.

“Tch, just checking. That’ll be a new one, not a scar on you. Seriously though, what’d you do? I won’t tell anyone.” Ozel winked, kneeling in front of him. His violet irises glowed slightly, wicked grin on his face.

“Nothing, really...”

“Then what’s the last thing you remember? What’s your name?”

“My name... I can’t remember my name...”

“Oooh... Then maybe that’s your sin.”

His sin was not remembering? “What exactly is a sin?”

Ozel stood, brushing his knees off and offering his hand. “Come on, I’ll show you. Maybe that’ll jog your memory. I know the way here can be rough on some folk.”

Taking the hand hesitantly, he was suddenly jerked upright. The rise made him dizzy and cling to the scantily dressed blonde. “Now now, you don’t get to touch the goods with out a fee. Heh, still in business down here. There aren’t many that keep a closeness to their original bodies or looks.”

“So you made a deal with someone?”

“Ah ha, you learn fast.” Ozel helped the dazed man off of the Styx shoreline. “I actually didn’t have one at first, I looked a mess. But my master saw potential in me, and if I pick up the newbies from my side of the shore before they can wander off, I get to keep this body. You were my last arrival for the shift, anyway. So I can leave. Even the damned need time off.” Smirking, he kicked aside a twisted branch, heading for the main road.

The land around them was pitch black, everything looking sharp and dirty. The man remembered being a clean freak before he had died; this place was truly a nightmare for him. Just the feeling of being close to such decrepit surroundings made him shiver. This was his eternity?

A hiss drew his attention, followed by a loud gurgle. Almost jumping out of his skin at the sound near his ear, the man yelped and turned around. Hanging down from a branch was what appeared to be a man, skinless and bent in different directions. A hand missing all but two fingers reached out for him, gurgling growing louder.

Ozel rolled his eyes and smacked the hand. “Will you knock it off?”

Through cracked lips the creature gave a breathy chuckle. “Sorry, I like seeing the new ones jump.”

“Yeah, well its getting old. Ah, see. That’s what I’m talking about. Bruce, turn around for a moment? This one wants to know what a sin is.”

“Rightio.” Dropping down from the branch, Bruce slithered until he half kneeled in front of the two.

“See? If you look closely, his sins have been branded into his flesh. And ya know what? You could rip that piece of flesh off, but they’d just appear somewhere else.” Three glowing marks stood out on the slick surface of his back. “The larger ones are core sins, and the smaller ones are forgivable, but since he has a lot of core sins, he was sent here.” Ozel pointed to a few of the marks, “vanity, wrath, lust, greed.”

“What’d he do?” The man whispered, not sure if he should be sick or interested.

“Me?” Bruce turned, flesh making sickening wet sounds. “I was a pimp, a great pimp. The pimp that ran half the west coast of whores. Well, I branched out, had boys under me watching the girls and sending my share of the cut. A few of them? Not so loyal, it turns out. I killed them and sent parts of their bodies to their friends and my colleagues, as a warning. Heh. I guess running flesh and killing people is a sin.”

“Ah,” Ozel held up a finger, “killing people, wrath, selling flesh, lust, over enterprising in illegal affairs, greed, and being so wrapped up in yourself, that you didn’t see your own death coming, vanity.”

“How’d he die?”

“I was gunned down a flurry of bullets, eh? Just like those old gangster movies.”

The man blinked and nodded, “oh.”

“Psssh, flurry of bullets my ass. And I died cuddling with bunnies. Bruce here was killed by one of his whores. Doing the naughty, she pulls out a needle and shoots him up with insulin. Which, if you didn’t know, will kill someone who isn’t diabetic. Heh, he died naked in his pent house, drooling all over himself.”

Bruce hissed, lashing out at Ozel, “shut your hole! You aint far from those whores.”

“Oh please. Being a porn star is way different from being a whore.” Ozel turned and winked at the man then began to pull him further down the road. “I’m Ozel, by the by.”

“Ozel... what is the difference between a whore and a porn star?”

The blonde scowled at the man, “do you want me to help you or not?”

“Good point.”





Further down the rabbit hole, the man thought to himself as he looked around. Ozel told him that the lord of the region was eccentric, but that seemed to be an understatement. The behemoth called a mansion straddled a river, the one he had washed up on. Now that his eyes had adjusted, he could see the red tint to the water. He firmly told himself it wasn’t blood, but reflected the blood red sky above him. Red with a pale white moon that cast an eerie light over the landscape. Mood lighting, sure, but the place didn’t need to look any weirder.

“Smoke?” Ozel held out a cigarette, zippo in his other hand.

“No thanks,” the man murmured quietly, “its bad for you.”

“Right. Smoking kills most of the people here.” He snorted, lighting his cigarette. “Not much matters down here anyways. I could rip off your arm, and while it would hurt a lot, you wouldn’t die from blood loss. Maybe pass out a few times, but eh... you get used to that. In some places, they’ll take the newbie’s intestines and jump rope with ‘em. I’m sure its rather disturbing to see someone do that with your body parts, let alone feel it.”

“So they don’t do stuff like that here?” He sounded overly hopeful even to his own ears; but that was something he didn’t want to experience. The fact that they were in hell, which probably meant some form of torture... He usually thought the dentist was cruel and unusual punishment.

“It depends. My master is more lenient than most with some people. Lust is really a case by case sort of deal. If someone was having an affair with hookers, and possibly infected his wife with some terminal illness because of it, then yeah... not too much hope there. Even if he didn’t mean to kill his wife, that’s mostly what he did. Or you have people like me, well... more innocent than me. Who’s only sin was selling their bodies. Which happens to be a big sin. Though free sex? Not so much. Go figure.”

Pretending to understand what Ozel was saying, the man nodded. Things were still a bit too overwhelming for him. Although he guessed that was a life long problem of his; he found it hard to adapt and change whenever things around him fell apart. His brother, on the other hand, thrived on change and could adapt to anything. “Its er... less sulfur-y than I thought it would be.”

“There are parts of hell like that.” Ozel shrugged, “my master doesn’t like the smell. I’ve been to those pits; they suck ass. I hope you don’t have to go there... or that I have to take you either.”

“Just who is your master, anyway?” The man rubbed at his bare arms, glancing around for signs of what the lord would look like.

“The lord of this region. Each of the core sins have their own lords, and spots on the river. Where you washed up, is where your worst sins were. I mean yeah, I killed some people for coke, but I was way into the porn deal. I just about slept with everyone to get ahead. Heh... a head...” Snickering at his own joke, he continued, “wrath is one of my minor sins, the death of others. Lust was the core sin, and pride. Or vanity. Depending on who you ask, they’re pretty much the same thing.”

“It makes sense, I guess.” The man hopped over a severed limb, shuddering in disgust. When he was alive, he would have been sick merely at the sight of blood. Some how he was comforted that he wasn’t quite as nauseated. Maybe that meant this was some weird dream, brought on by eating some bad Chinese food.

“Mmhmm... Since you’re so cute, I’ll give you a little warning. Don’t piss my master off. If he tells you to do something, do it. You generally don’t want to make one of the seven lords dislike you, let alone one of his favorite lords.” Ozel cracked open the door, letting the man pass before him. It wasn’t like him to be gentlemanly, but hey... the boy was cute, and now that Ozel could look, he had a nice ass.

“Thanks... I’ll be on my best behavior.” The man turned then scowled. “Were you staring at my butt?”

“Yep. Now come on, we should catch him while he’s in a good mood.” Before he could complain, Ozel dragged his cute dead boy toward the stairs. If he was unmarked like this, then his master would probably want to keep him. The lord over the region of Lust loved pretty boys. “You saw how Bruce was, ne? Well mostly he looked like that when he washed up, but he tried to threaten my master... hooo, that was stupid. There’s the usual pain you feel for your sins, and then there’s punishments given here that would make the pain of your sins feel like bee stings.”

“You’re in pain?”

“A little... Aren’t you?” Ozel tilted his head, pushing the doors open to a parlor. It was a short cut to the main chambers that generally he wasn’t supposed to take. As if he listened to the rules, anyway.

“Not at all. I mean, I feel a little cold, and a little numb in spots... but that’s it.”

The blonde shot a smirk at the man he was dragging. “Numb in certain spots, ne? Maybe you had too much sex in your life time, so when you died, your thing fell off.”

“No way! I didn’t even use it like that, how could it fall off?!”

“Never?” Ozel looked at him as if he grew another head. “You died a virgin?” The blonde doubled over in laughter, pointing at him. “Aww, poor baby, I can make that better.” Almost a blink of an eye later, Ozel was wrapped around him, purring into the man’s ear. “Do you want me to make that evil numbness go away?”

“What?! No!” The man pushed Ozel away, which was no easy feat. Had the blonde suddenly grown an extra arm or two?

Ozel snickered, “you’re so cute.” Blowing out a last puff of smoke, Ozel lifted his foot to ground out the cigarette on the heel of his boot.

“I am not cute.” The man blinked, “can the damned even be cute?”

“Depends on the person, I suppose. I know a few that think fingers are cute, and collect them.”

The man curled his fingers into a fist, looking around. “They don’t live here, do they?”

“You’re safe here, with me. Nothing will happen. Well... I might try to pinch your butt from time to time, but I swear, your virgin ass will stay virginal as long as you want it to.”

“...Isn’t sex down here sort of like... necrophilia?” He shuddered, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

“Only if you do it with people who look dead. Although technically, I guess it is. Huh, never thought of it that way before. I knew I was kinky, but damn, I’m really kinky now.” Ozel laughed, pushing open the last set of heavy doors.

The man paused at the threshold, eyes getting used to the sudden dim light. His guide slunk up to a raised platform, sliding into the lap of a man dressed in heavy black robes. “Uhm... Ozel?”

“Come in.” With a single flick of the man dressed in black’s fingers, the doors started to close, making the man jump further inside to avoid being left out, or squished between the doors.

With out the flood of light behind him, his eyes quickly adjusted. The room was covered in heavy black and red velveteen curtains, the sole source of light a large chandelier candelabra, iron curled in intricate patterns around large sticks of white candles.

“Aww, is it bad today, Marcius?” Ozel purred and nuzzled Marcius’ neck. His master usually liked the windows uncovered, unless his headaches were worse than usual. The pain of the damned would worsen at random times...

“Later, Ozel. What did you bring me?”

Pouting a little, Ozel stood. “I found him before my shift was over. He doesn’t remember his name and can’t remember any sins he would have committed...”

“So?”

“He also doesn’t have any sins branded into him. I sort of peeked, and there wasn’t a glowing word anywhere.”

Marcius frowned, eyeing the man. “Take off your shirt.”

“Wha... okay.” He remembered Ozel telling him to behave, the one person who wasn’t all that scary in hell, and seemed trust worthy. Honest, even, and he remembered that he respected honesty. Removing his shirt, he kept it in his hands, rolling it nervously.

“Hm...” Lust’s lord made a circle with one finger, “turn around.” The man did so, shivering as he knew the eyes searched his back.

“See? None... that isn’t normal, is it?”

“No, it isn’t.” Marcius rose, letting the robes drop from him, pooling at his feet. The simple black shirt and slacks he wore were easier to walk around in than the heavy robes. “Stay still,” he instructed the man, fingers ghosting over his back. Lust’s lord ran his fingers through the man’s hair, feeling for any sort of hidden mark. “There isn’t a thing on him. He’s innocent.”

“What?” Ozel hopped down from the dais, looking at the man closer. “No way, I’ve never seen one of them down here... does that happen often?”

“It shouldn’t happen at all. Something’s wrong with this...” Marcius bit his thumb nail; a nervous habit from when he was alive. “Did anyone see you bring him in?”

“Just Bruce, but I didn’t mention anything to him, just that he was new.”

“Good, we’ll keep it at that. He’ll stay here, and he isn’t to leave my manor. Got it?” He would probe quietly into what may be going on, but he had few doubts as to who was up to no good. Bringing an innocent to hell, that he couldn’t understand, but Pride had been quietly gathering supporters for awhile. Whatever was going on, was more than likely his fault. “Show him to your room, Ozel.”

The blonde pouted, laying his cheek against his master’s shoulder. “But where am I going to sleep?”

“With me.”

Ozel perked up, taking the man’s hand. “This way...”

“Really, I don’t mind sleeping any where. I don’t want to be treated differently.”

Marcius raised an eyebrow, “you rather be tortured? That, for the most part, is what is inside the other rooms here.”

“For the most part... What’s in the other rooms?”

“They haven’t been used in years, but other than a covering of dust and whatever pests might live there, nothing is in them but a bedframe.”

Ozel’s smile was sly, “they were for the others, but Marcius doesn’t need them now that I’m his favorite.” That was something to be proud of; the lord of Lust only had interest in him. Years in the porn industry had payed off, who knew how helpful they could be.

The man cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “Then I’ll sleep in one of those.”

“They’re filthy,” Ozel made a face and shook his head, curls bouncing around his cheeks.

“There are places that are clean here?” The man blinked in wonder; he figured hell wouldn’t be very clean, or probably didn’t have soap. At least, that would be hell to him.

“Of course! I’m dirty because I’ve been dragging the dead back and forth from the river to where they belong. As if I would defile this body by keeping it covered in filth!”

The man tilted his head, looking Ozel over. “You work in that?”

“This is Lust’s dominion, what do you think I should wear?” Ozel stuck out his tongue then smirked. “Although I think my master likes the bunny outfit better. Don’t you,” he pressed a kiss to Marcius’ neck.

“Mm, hard to tell his other sin was pride, isn’t it?” Marcius lifted his chin, one hand snaking around Ozel’s waist to pull him closer. “If you want to work for your own room, I won’t stop you.” He waved his other hand, the doors opening with loud creaking protests. “I locked all the doors to the places you don’t need to be, or see. Only the kitchen, Ozel’s room, and the room you shall occupy are open. The kitchen is one room below this one, ask the staff for cleaning supplies. As of now, you’ll be another one of my... pets. That’s all they need to know.”

“Right, thanks!” Unsure what to do in the circumstances, he had never been in front of a lord of anything except maybe the lord of used cars, the man bowed stiffly then turned quickly from the room. There had been a staircase he remembered passing not that far from the room, he would take that to the kitchen.

“Another pet, Marcius? People will think I’m not good enough anymore.”

With another wave of his hand the doors shut again, blocking out the light that felt searing to him. “Play along, Ozel. We both know that couldn’t happen, I enjoy you far too much.”

Ozel sighed, “I know...” Gently he pulled away then tugged Marcius back toward his chair. “Its bad today, isn’t it? I’ll make it go away.” Whenever his own pain would flare, Marcius would make the others do his duties, and would keep him near, stroking his hair. It was almost loving, and it made him want to do anything for his master. Unlike him, Marcius had to keep up appearances. If the flares would bring Ozel to his knees, keep him curled in a ball for days, he couldn’t imagine having to grin and bear it. The sacrifices of being lord, he knew, but it didn’t make it fair. Even if he disliked having to wander up and down Styx to find newbies, it was worth coming back to him.

“Usually I would love nothing more than that, Ozel...” Marcius let himself be pulled into his chair, settling comfortably in the thick robes that cushioned the otherwise firm chair. “I need to look into this though.”

“Well it can wait, can’t it? He doesn’t feel the pain of hell, he can sit and wait until his reevaluation. There we can plead his case, or they’ll realize he’s innocent and take him away.” Ozel settled in Marcius’ lap, booted feet hanging over the arm rest of the chair.

“I’m not even sure he’s dead, let alone will qualify a reevaluation. I have to probe into this matter quickly, so whatever is going on won’t catch me by surprise.”

Ozel shivered, “how could he not be dead? I couldn’t imagine being here and alive. Oh! But if he is alive, then wouldn’t dying bring him to heaven?”

“Possibly. Mm,” Marcius kissed Ozel’s forehead, “you have good ideas, my pet.”

“For you, my lord, all for you.”





The man hopped down the stairs, looking around. He was glad that he saw the kitchen looked like any other kitchen in the living world; clean, and full of bustling staff. Well... maybe not like any other kitchen, unless it was Halloween. Nothing looked... drippy, at least. He didn’t get the feeling that he would find random parts of people in his food. Which lead to another interesting idea; the dead eat?

Deciding to ask Ozel later, he put the thought away and tried to get the attention of one of the staff. “Uhm,” he half held up his hand to touch one of the worker’s shoulders, caught in a sudden moment of shyness. “Excuse me?” He tried again, a little more strength in his tone.

One of the workers, a woman, paused, blinking in surprise before looking him over. “Yeah?”

“I need to get some cleaning stuff... When ever you have time, I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Who’re you?” Another of the workers wandered up, a bit more intimidating with his large meat cleaver.

“The lord’s new pet,” he squawked, taking a step back and eyeing the knife.

“New pet...” The man smirked and looked back over his shoulder, “ya hear that? Ozel isn’t good enough for him anymore!” The room filled with laughter, the man in front of him sneering. “Who had the bet of a few years? Anyone win any money off of it? No? Well damn,” the worker roughly hit the wooden counter with his cleaver, the blade stuck in the already notched surface. “Glad to see someone knocked that brat off his pedestal. Now what’d you want? Food? I’m sure we could whip something special up for you, as a reward.” A few nearby workers mumbled and snickered, nodding in agreement.

Somehow, he suddenly felt a little annoyed with the kitchen staff. Ozel was weird, sure, but he didn’t seem that bad. Not bad enough to warrant laughing at his downfall, even if it wasn’t real. Of course only he and Ozel, and the lord knew that. “No thank you. I wanted to clean my own room, so I need some supplies.” How did he know that people could be as petty when dead as alive? It was just a feeling he always had.

“Clean it yourself? What, you have a cleaning fetish? That’s almost as odd as Ozel’s lace fetish.”

The man tilted his head, picturing Ozel purring and rubbing his cheek against a lace curtain. Quickly shaking off his daydream, he smiled a little. “Nothing like that.”

“Were you a tweaker?”

“A what?”

“A tweaker, you know... a meth head. Those people do meth, and clean for days. No sleep. Is that how you died, the meth kill ya?” The worker looked the man over, searching for signs to support his theory.

“No, I wasn’t a tweaker.” He didn’t even know what meth was.

“Ah well, follow me. Those rooms haven’t had much attention in a really long time, so they’ll need a lot of work.” The worker dodged the kitchen staff that were still hurrying about, eventually guiding him to a door. “Hold these,” he shoved a bucked at him, then a broom. The other items, a wire brush and a box of soap, he put into the bucket. “I think we took the mattresses out too, so when you’re done cleaning, come back here and I’ll track down one of the servants, he can help you get a mattress ‘n some sheets.”

“Right, thanks.”

“Oh yeah, and here,” the worker added a blade to the bucket, parts of it rusted. “The pests might fight ya for the room, but stab ‘em a few times and they’ll bugger off. Gotta work for what you want, eh?” He laughed and slapped the man’s back a few times, almost knocking him off his feet. “Since they’re rooms for his pets, they have their own bathing areas. Fill up the bucket there, and then follow the instructions on the soap box.”

“Okay,” he said dazedly, mind still turning over the idea of pests big enough that he had to fend them off with a knife. Killer rats, grisly looking spiders, or was it some animal indigenous to the area?

“Yer room is close by, so you don’t really need a guide. Up the stairs, then right, down the hallway and then to the left. Pick out a room you want in that corridor. Although if you unseated Ozel, I think you should stay far away from him. That boy, eh... He seems nice, but that’s when you have to watch out for him. Devious little shit, his mind’s always workin.”

“Okay, thanks,” he turned before the worker could rattle on more about Ozel, leaving the kitchen as quickly as he could.