Eliot had died and went to hell. That much was expected. Given the life he led, the wrong turns, the dark roads traveled... the blood he used to wash his path, there really was no other destination for his soul. He knew that, accepted it. It was almost cathartic when he found himself there. And almost funny when Eliot Spencer couldn't stop punching things even in hell and laid out a good three or four demons before they subdued his soul.
And then there was the torture, which he resisted both physically and mentally. If he broke free, rare as that was, he would fight. Give his torturers as good as he got, or tried, although it was considerably less successful than his first day. Hell was a whole new level of evil, but pain was pain and he managed it the same way as he always had in life. Meditation, breathing exercises -not that he actually needed air anymore, and definitely not the poisonous sulfur they passed for air here-, things to draw his mental focus. He didn't know how often people resisted hell's torture, but there weren't too many people in the world who had honest to god been tortured before in life, and not once, but on 4 different occasions. Or dished it out themselves too, many more times than he could count. As ugly as the world was, he hoped not too many people had that sort of experience.
What he was in right now was a reprieve, a moment between sessions where the demonic grunts has dumped him back in his home in the wall of a cell. Time for his broken skin to knit back together, bones to set again so they could be rebroken by the next blunt force trauma. His arm was mostly healed though, he thought he could move his fingers already and it had been broken in three places earlier.
Eliot was seated propped against the stone wall when a suited demon -they all wore suits- came in. It seemed too early for them to drag him off again, and, really, by now they usually came in twos to collect him. So that didn't seem to be it. Not to mention, this one bolted himself in. With him. Eliot glanced up to see what this one wanted just as the man removed his tie.
Well, that was different. This one wore jewelry, Eliot caught a flash of silver beneath the collar reflecting in the dim flickering light. The demon introduced himself as Sam.
"Huh. What would the king's favorite wan' with me?"
Re: Eliot and Sam
And then there was the torture, which he resisted both physically and mentally. If he broke free, rare as that was, he would fight. Give his torturers as good as he got, or tried, although it was considerably less successful than his first day. Hell was a whole new level of evil, but pain was pain and he managed it the same way as he always had in life. Meditation, breathing exercises -not that he actually needed air anymore, and definitely not the poisonous sulfur they passed for air here-, things to draw his mental focus. He didn't know how often people resisted hell's torture, but there weren't too many people in the world who had honest to god been tortured before in life, and not once, but on 4 different occasions. Or dished it out themselves too, many more times than he could count. As ugly as the world was, he hoped not too many people had that sort of experience.
What he was in right now was a reprieve, a moment between sessions where the demonic grunts has dumped him back in his home in the wall of a cell. Time for his broken skin to knit back together, bones to set again so they could be rebroken by the next blunt force trauma. His arm was mostly healed though, he thought he could move his fingers already and it had been broken in three places earlier.
Eliot was seated propped against the stone wall when a suited demon -they all wore suits- came in. It seemed too early for them to drag him off again, and, really, by now they usually came in twos to collect him. So that didn't seem to be it. Not to mention, this one bolted himself in. With him. Eliot glanced up to see what this one wanted just as the man removed his tie.
Well, that was different. This one wore jewelry, Eliot caught a flash of silver beneath the collar reflecting in the dim flickering light. The demon introduced himself as Sam.
"Huh. What would the king's favorite wan' with me?"