Note: I'm the author of this fic, it's also posted on Quotev
Were... Were you a bad person?
You didn't think that you were
You'd like to think that you were a good person
Hopefully...
You lived your life modestly. You gave back whatever you took-- made sure you had passing grades to please your parents, even.
But you were sure that you never hurt anyone. Even the thought of causing harm to another person just for your own pleasure sounded disgusting to you.
If anything, it was usually you who ended up being treated as a doormat to those around you. Not that you really cared.
You just let it happen. It didn't bother you at all if you were pushed around or made fun of. Where you had gone to school the faculty and teachers actually cared, so any bullying never went too far.
If there was something that was going to send you to hell, it would be your hobbies. You shamelessly simped and thirsted over people who weren't even real and read some of the spiciest fanfiction on the internet and started repenting right afterwards, like that would save you.
Maybe that's why you were bullied? Sounded about right.
And never had a relationship-- your standards were either garbage or the bare minimum. Because you knew that if anime characters were ever real, you'd have no chance.
Wow, reflecting on your poor choices was fun.
That's why you were asking the question "am I in hell because I'm a bad person?".
No, of course not. If you were a horrible person, you'd never be here.
You were a good person
You are a good person
You had no idea where you were, and that's why you were wondering if you were about to be dragged down to hell. It felt like you were floating, but you were in some sort of... grey area.
Like some idiot in a horror movie, you had called out a few times.
It wasn't much, but it gave you the information that there was an end somewhere, since your voice ended up echoing. What was unsettling was that there was something to bounce off of.
In your current state, a five-year-old could probably snap you in half like a twig. Your body-- it was there, but you couldn't move. Your muscles were relaxed, and you had honestly never felt better.
No back pain from your nights of hunching over at your computer and watching the latest episodes of your favorite anime. No more shrimp spine.
It was strange. You already knew that you must have been dead. It wouldn't be possible to be floating around an endless plane of grey in real life. Or reality. Now that you were dead, you were racking your brain for any plausible answers for what was happening.
Hell was still ruled out-- you weren't being tortured for your sins yet.
And at the thought of you getting into heaven almost got a chuckle out of you.
Your first thought was that you were in the area between life and the afterlife. If you were, that sucked, because you were already getting bored waiting around and floating around in this place. (Never mind that you were literally defying physics and floating around).
Oh God, were you in a liminal space? That's the worst-case scenario. Do you know what kind of monsters are in the backrooms? Not hot ones.
How did you even die?
That was the only thing that you couldn't remember. It wasn't fuzzy at all, like you had read in stories or how it was in movies. There was something missing in your memory. It annoyed you that it was the one thing you couldn't recall.
Maybe you died doing something stupid. Perhaps screaming into a pillow while kicking your legs in the air like a schoolgirl had finally gone too far. Or you tripped and split your head open on the sidewalk, which was a very you way to die.
Your voice came out soft. Confused.
"How did I die?"
In a split second, your eyes went wide. It felt like your heart had literally skipped a beat. You shouldn't have said that. You should not have said that.
Call it a sixth sense, but you immediately knew that you were in some sort of danger.
Why did you have to think about monsters of all things? You knew that it made you uneasy, thinking about monsters when you were alone. Or when you weren't entirely sure-- which was worse, in your opinion. You were right. You weren't alone.
And it was behind you
You didn't even have to (attempt) to turn around but you already knew that it was behind you.
You knew that you weren't alone from the beginning. And whatever it was, it knew that you knew.
The fear that you felt took the air right out of your lungs. It knows.
When you felt something touch you, you screamed
But nothing came out. Oh, you hated how you couldn't scream. This thing must have stopped you from doing so. There was a force on your mouth that prevented you from crying out. This was really hell, wasn't it? You didn't consent to this. This wasn't like the movies or books at all.
The thing that was touching you, it moved across the back of your body, right where you couldn't see it. It strangely rolled against your back and shoulders, creeping up your neck and the back of your legs. On the bare skin of your legs, you felt it. you shuddered.
The sensation made your back arc in discomfort. Head tilted back; you breathed out shakily. It was like slime. It wasn't wetting your skin at all, but you felt something inside of the substance itself. It was alive. It shouldn't be alive.
Breathing with you. Some kind of pulse within it was beating against the rhythm of your own heartbeat. Then you saw it, which only scared you more.
There is a color called Vanta Black
Or a shade, since it's not a color. Vanta Black is so dark that light cannot escape or reflect off of it. It's mesmerizing to look at. A shade of black so satisfyingly filling, seemingly so perfect without any shine.
Now imagine that but with at least a hundred eyes splitting open in the void and looking directly at you
You felt the invisible hand over your mouth disappear. You involuntarily gasped out.
This time, you actually screeched
"WHAT THE FUCK!! WHAAAT THE FUCK?!!"
The Oobleck shot right into your mouth. If you could throw up, you would. Not only was discount Venom making a new home in your mouth, but the rest of it was enveloping your body. Like some sort of cursed glove.
Thinking about that made you gag and retch. Last time you were choking like this was when you refused to chew your pasta and got thrown out of Olive Garden.
This is NOT cool! Your eyes clouded with pained and panicked tears as your cheeks puffed out uncomfortably, being stretched far more than they should be. Your face was tingling with a stinging pain. It didn't work when you tried to force your mouth to close and push all of the slime back out of you.
There was a stab of pain in your neck, and you were very sure that what just grabbed you around the throat was the Oobleck that had morphed into a hand. Being choked two ways wasn't as nice as you imagined it to be.
Now you were suffering. As the "life" was being strangled out of you, you thrashed around. Like a maniac. Letting out muffled and (disgustingly wet) groans. Your gag reflex was trying to make your hurl every five seconds, and you heaved out nothing, losing more and more air each second.
Your stomached burned from the movement. You were lightheaded and dizzy. And you were pissed.
What, you get a second chance, and now this monster has the audacity to kill you?
Fruitlessly clawing at the monster, your will to fight to live just out of spite grew. You weren't going to die here like an idiot. You already died like an idiot in your past life, and you wouldn't be making the same mistake.
It was filling your throat and stomach up. You were going to be puking your guts out whether you like it or not. Then you'd stomp the mass of black goop and eyeballs into the ground.
And because it was out to get you, the nicest person on the planet, this was unacceptable. You were going to turn over a new leaf in this new life, your thoughts were suddenly plagued with murder.
It was only then when you were then keenly aware of your actual enemy.
Gravity.
You dropped headfirst right onto the ground -most likely cracking your skull open- and your hands flew to your mouth once you realized that the thing invading your body had body weight. Even a strange body. You could use this.
Tears were forming at the corners of your eyes as you continued to gag. You were clutching the fingers of the hands around your throat, while your other hand worked on yanking out the substance that was currently turning into a brick at the bottom of your stomach.
But your clawing wasn't without reward-- it was slowly working. Agonizingly slow. Your fingers never passed through the slime completely-- and like a mass of wet noodles, they always caught on something. You were straight-up grabbing eyeballs.
It wasn't fun.
But you'd be damned if this fiend wasn't going to resemble cursed spaghetti and meatballs by the time you were done with it.
Before all the spots in your vision could prevent you from ever seeing again, you got in a few gasps of air as you yanked out another thick gob of slime, hands slippery with your saliva. You had somehow managed to wrench the hand off your neck.
Coughing was your next action, even if it didn't help. You both inhaled and hacked out some.
Little bastard! You regained some of the feeling in your toes- which had almost gone numb before you had been rudely dropped on the ground. Fuck this, fuck this!
You inhaled a particularly large piece of slime. Ultimately, that was the final straw.
Like you said, a five-year-old could snap you in half like a twig
The monster suddenly morphed, eyes spreading out and around the deep void of black as it fully left your mouth, only to lurch forward and attach itself to your face like a death mask. Your screams were muffled, vision dark.
And the voices that filled your head only made you panic more.
A new host?
Another host.
She's struggling too much.
She's scared. She almost got you off of her.
A good fighter. I like that. Can I keep her?
That isn't your purpose.
You couldn't breathe. You were being suffocated. You were thrashing around on the ground again, clawing at your face. Pulling and trying to rip the mask apart and off of your skin. You just wanted air; you needed it--
I can't eat her, can I?
Of course not--!
Quiet! You're going to make her panic even more.
Keep her safe.
Her soul looks delicious...
The second voice warped, causing your head to throb at the sensation.
Fine, fine.
Are you sure?
Do your job.
Despite your vision being obscured, you already knew that you were losing consciousness. The waves of dull blue and white that warped when your eyes were squeezed shut.
Someone grabbed your shoulders
There was nothing on your face
"Your majesty! Lady (Name), please wake up!"
What? The blue light faded, but you were almost blinded by the light that flooded into your vision. You welcomed the air back into your lungs gratefully as you sat up and frantically patted yourself down.
Your eyes first met a set of worried ones. Multiple, actually, but there was no monster Oobleck to be seen. There were some women dressed up in traditional Japanese garments.
Still, you were scared shitless. What's going on? What the hell is going on?
The woman who met your eyes first cried out in distress. "Lady (Name), what has gotten into you? You were kicking and screaming in your sleep, like you were fighting! Are, are you..." her eyes flew down to your mid-section. "-A-A- Are you...?"
Am I what? Why am I being called 'your majesty'? Your eyes also shot down to where she was looking at you. The other women in your room paled upon also laying eyes upon your form.
The maids in front of you all screamed
And you screamed with them
You could feel your heartbeat through the fingertips of the arms that weren't supposed to be yours. Beneath your arms, another pair rested. Darker than your skin and resembling the exact color of the thing that was strangling you thirty seconds ago.
You weren't dealing with monsters anymore, you knew that. You were dealing with demons.
"KYAAAAAH! MONSTER!! DEMON!!!"
"GET THE DOCTOR!"
"NO, GET THE PRIEST!! WE NEED AN EXORCIST!!"
"OH MY GOD THE ARMS MOVED-"
The women were either screaming or had bolted out of the room. Something within you chuckled deeply, somehow satisfied with the fear. You only buried your face into your (actual) hands.
God damnit.