Ryden Oneshots

So Apparently I'm Going To Hell

.:. Rating : R .:.

All Brendon remembered was the light turning green and driving into the intersection before there was a blinding pain in his side and his car slid twenty feet before screeching to a stop, and everything went black. When he woke up, he wouldn’t feel any pain, but he would be in a very unfamiliar place.

Brendon woke up with a headache, and he pushed himself up, using his arms that seemed weaker than normal. Frowning, he looked around him, trying to figure out where he was. It wasn’t a hospital and it wasn’t his car. He appeared to be in some sort of giant basket being lowered to the ground.

Where am I going? he wondered, And why am I in this hand basket?

He gave a jolt as the basket hit the ground and turned over on its own. He fell out, landing with a hard thud on the ground. Wincing, he rolled over and pushed himself into a sitting position. Looking around, he began to get worried. Everything was red, the ground, the walls, if they really were walls. They looked more like mountain peaks draped in volcanic lava.

Somebody needs to hire a new decorator, he thought, glancing around him.

He gave a start as there was a flash of fire in front of him, and it burned down to reveal a man dressed in a black suit with a red tie. He looked completely normal except for the two horns poking out from his head and the forked trident he held as a scepter.

Brendon scrambled to his feet as this man appeared. The man was smiling, but it wasn’t a nice smile. It reminded Brendon of his sister when she’d gotten away with something she wasn’t supposed to.

"W-who are you?" he asked finally, gathering what courage he still had in this foreign place.

The man just smiled again, that leering, I-know-something-you-don’t, smile. "I am the devil."

"What?" Brendon said, his eyes widening. "T-the devil?"

The man smiled evilly. "The one and only, if you believe that. You do believe in me, don’t you?"

"Huh?" Brendon asked helplessly. Looking around, he got a sick feeling in his stomach as he realized where he was. "This can’t be possible!"

"Oh, but it is," the devil replied simply, fingering his trident and smirking.

"Why am I here?" Brendon demanded, panicking slightly. This couldn’t be real.

"You sold your soul to me," the devil said simply.

"No, I didn’t," Brendon replied, furrowing his eyebrows. He thought he might remember doing that.

The devil sighed as though this happened all the time. Snapping his fingers, a red-covered book appeared in his hands. He set it down on a little pillar nearby and flipped through it. Brendon waited uneasily, still confused about what was going on. The devil read a passage, running his finger along.

"Oh, no, that was your sister. She sold it to me a few years ago for a Klondike Bar." Then the devil reached somewhere behind him and pulled out said ice cream bar. He held it out to Brendon. "What would you do for a Klondike Bar, Brendon Urie?"

"I—um—what?" Brendon asked, confused and beginning to get scared.

"Exactly!" the devil exclaimed, and he snapped his fingers again and the bar disappeared into thin air. "Welcome to Hell."

"I can’t be here!" Brendon exclaimed. "I’m Mormon!"

The devil just laughed. "Ah, so they all think. Religion doesn’t save you, my little friend. Have you done nothing to sin against your faith?"