Hell Song

I: Silent Pleas

The evening was a relatively quiet one, for an evening spent in Hell. The only thing that could be heard besides the usual background ambiance was the rough baritone voice of the demon that followed his quarry through the crag-filled gorge.

It was an odd sight to say the least. The demon was well-known and feared. He went by the name of Firus and was the proud right-hand fiend to the leader of the Demon Council. His looks were only less pleasant than his temper and his brute strength was second to none in a brawl. It was surprising to find such a being playing caretaker to such a small, fair featured boy as the one he trailed behind.

“Why must your father insist I fetch you at every turn of the hour, boy? Most days I wish you’d just go into a coma or something so that I wouldn’t have to hunt you when you run off. I might actually get something useful done for once…” the scaly devil grumbled.

The boy, already annoyed with being caught by his father’s grotesque henchman, rolled his bright green eyes in disgust. He couldn’t take much more of this continuous nagging.

“Then why don’t you go to the Sulfur Pits and soak your head awhile?” Sasori answered tartly in response to the incessant jabbering coming from his keeper. The beast’s face contorted with rage. In a second, the boy’s neck was locked firmly in the monster’s claws. Sasori didn’t flinch as his back was forced against the nearby rock wall, his feet dangling above the ground. Instead he merely turned his head with disgust as Firus’s putrid breath came over him in sickening waves. They were only inches apart, and the smell was overwhelming.

“You’re lucky that you’re protected for now...If it were up to me, I’d carve out this pretty little neck of yours with my talons and paint the walls with your blood,” Firus hissed into his ear, clearly holding back an overwhelming urge to exact his threats. “It’d bring me great pleasure to watch you writhe as I tore into your sweet little face …” It traced its other fingers down the side of the boy’s cheek roughly, pulling his lower lip down to run its hard bony fingers across the smooth, moist skin. “Your kind are so fragile, it’s almost laughable. But don’t worry. No one’s going to touch you until that day. Everyone’s waiting for when we finally get to watch you bleed…”

Sasori caught hold of the blatant threats and couldn’t help the bit of panic that sank into his chest. He knew he wasn’t safe…but for now, just for now, no demons would kill him, even his father’s right hand fiend, right?

Despite this thinking, the pit of his stomach was leaden with dread with how little he understood. In a council of demons he constantly got the feeling like he was a lamb being readied for a slaughter and the demons were the wolves, waiting, licking their lips in the shadows. Never did he feel these assumptions more keenly then now. With these thoughts in his mind Sasori wormed uncomfortably in Firus’s grasp.

Firus attempted what one would almost call a smile amidst the mangle of his fang-like teeth, seeming to understand the reason for the boy’s sudden distress and let Sasori drop to the ground. The boy stumbled despite himself and felt the imprints in his neck, not fully realizing the ferocity of Firus’s grasp until he became conscious of how little he’d breathed in those last tenuous seconds. A purple collar of bruises would greet him the next time he caught glimpse of his reflection.

As he regained his breath, Sasori glowered up at Firus who stared back with caustic yellow eyes.

“You’re weak, always will be…And you won’t be of any use to anyone until you’re dead. You should remember that well…but even when death comes for you it won’t be by the traditional means. Mark me if you will; once your time comes, you’ll wish that you could die somehow just to ease your misery. But I’ll be more than happy to hear your screams in those final hours. There’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

Firus’s laughter echoed in Sasori’s mind long after he’d confined himself hastily in his room. He knew no one would tell him, but he wanted more than anything to know what was planned for him. Everyone seemed to know his fate but him. What made it worse was that they seemed to revel in his worried confusion. Firus knew what did and didn’t bother him anymore, but slowly he was learning to block the pain from even the most haunting of issues in his mind. He refused to show them his fears, so he locked them away. He’d do the same with this and somehow, he’d find a way to escape whatever fate they had in store for him.

Relying on sleep to help block his worries once more, Sasori turned in his bed, realizing that what Firus had said was true. He was weak. Always had been. All he could do was build up the walls around his heart so that he couldn’t feel the helplessness of his situation. Maybe one day, that one person that still offered a glimmer of hope would come to save him from his fate.

Tiredly, he held on to that name that carried with it any expectation of his salvation. It glided so effortlessly off his lips now and sounded so sweet compared to the rest of his miserable world.

“Setsuna…” he whispered quietly. “Please come save me…You’re all I have left…”

Knowing what he said was reality, Sasori’s eyes burned quietly with the tightening in his chest. He’d never met his brother, but somehow he wished that Setsuna would hear his silent pleas. It really was his last hope.