(REQUESTS CLOSED) Gay Motley Crue Oneshots Part 2

Hell(Terrorcest)

TW: Demons, Hell, mutilation, hallucinations, trauma, death

The room is dark, stale mold and mildew hanging their foul scents in the air. The rotting wood looks more akin to diseased flesh, twisted and wrinkled in such ways that their condition cannot be explained. 

Bodies, mutilated in various degrees lay scattered around a pentagram, drawn in human blood at the center of the space. The carpet feels ill, scratchy. Like the green side of a sponge.

Sharp nails scratch the floor. No...claws...attached to boney fingers. The creature laying in the center of the pentagram twitches, a smile spread across his face as lyrics spill from his writing hand.

The demon itself, Nikki Sixx, rocks idly back and forth, laughing to himself. They'd all betrayed him. All of them. He'd said they'd make it and damn they did. 

They had it going, it was all perfect. Now that he's gotten him there, they want him out. They don't need him anymore. 

Nikki's laughter grows louder and louder, until his shrieks echo off the wall as he claws at his own face, blood dripping from the cuts.

The voices are deafening, urging him to feed his feral needs. Sixx convulsed, slamming his head in the ground over and over and over willing them to shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up. But no, they grow louder and louder still.

They're all he hears now, in this cold, stark room his own friends have imprisoned him in. Foam drips from his mouth, mixing with the blood. The voices are his family now. They are his only hope. He grows to like them. 

I need that evil
I sold my soul
What?
Because I'm in Hell
Oh, I need it
I need it more
What? What?
Ahh-oohhh hahahaha

They shouldn't have done it. They shouldn't have touched his Tommy. They shouldn't have taken away his angel. Now his protection is gone, his love, his light, his sanity.

He caresses his sweet baby boy's cold face, no longer able to look into those gorgeous brown eyes that have been gouged out. His jugular is shredded apart, entrails spiling from his stomach. No longer able to hug his body, mutilated beyond being able to pull into his arms, Nikki just does what Tommy always told him and keeps smiling, laughing paradoxically.

He's filled with joy, yet there is none. Nothing to look forward to but making those fools pay for what they did to sweet Thomas Lee Bass.

He has no other purpose.

Tommy, the only being that could hold him together, is gone forever.

This. is. Hell.