Chapter 87 - 87: Direct Passage to Hell

Things were not going according to Doom's plan. The device he had painstakingly built—his masterpiece—was supposed to transport him directly to Hell. Instead— His soul was violently ripped from his body. It felt like he was strapped to a runaway carriage, his very essence whipped by an invisible storm, as if a hurricane had seized his soul and was hurling him into the unknown. The sensation was indescribable. His consciousness twisted and churned, as if he were inside a giant dryer, spinning relentlessly. Then— A sudden, forceful ejection. His soul was launched like a cannonball, fired straight out of his universe. __ Colors. Countless colors—blinding, swirling, chaotic—filled his vision. For a moment, he felt like he had been dropped into a nightclub of endless neon lights, flashing in incomprehensible patterns. Then— The pressure intensified. His body was compressed, as if being squeezed into a rubber tube. Then it was stretched—elongated like a sausage—distorted beyond human understanding. Doom's mind reeled. For a fleeting second, he felt flattened, as if he had been reduced from three-dimensional existence to two dimensions—trapped within some cosmic plaything. He was no longer in control. He was merely a speck, drifting through the vast, infinite void of dimensions. Finding Hell in this endless sea of realities was like searching for a single grain of sand in the Sahara. But— Doom refused to be lost. His will was too strong. His resolve was unyielding. His soul surged forward, breaking through one dimension after another, navigating through realms beyond human comprehension. Weeks seemed to pass. Or perhaps it was mere moments—time had lost all meaning. But then— He sensed it. The place he had dreamed of. The place that had haunted him his entire life. Hell. __ Doom's breath shuddered as he stood upon red-hot sand, the air thick with the stench of suffering. In front of him— A monstrous cavern, its entrance radiating an eerie glow. The Gates of Hell. A never-ending green flame burned through the gate's threshold— And yet, it gave off no heat at all. Doom's hands curled into fists. He took a step forward. Then— A deafening roar shattered the silence. __ A shadow lunged forward— A massive, nightmarish hound, its fur pitch-black, its fangs dripping with fresh, steaming blood. The stench of death clung to its massive form. It was unclear whether the blood belonged to past intruders— Or if it was simply drool, anticipating its next meal. Doom's eyes narrowed. "The Gatekeeper." Without hesitation, Doom raised his hand, chanting an ancient incantation. Dark green energy crackled in his palm— A longsword materialized in his grip, its blade pulsing with malevolent energy. Searᴄh the NôvelFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. This was Gypsy black magic, passed down from his mother. Even the creatures of Hell were vulnerable to it. Doom was not here unprepared. __ The Hellhound lunged. Doom's body reacted instinctively— He sidestepped, his blade flashing through the air. CLANG! The monstrous beast blocked the strike with unnatural speed, its eyes burning with an unholy light. Then— It opened its jaws. FWOOOOOSH! A column of fire erupted from its mouth— A torrent of burning agony, aimed directly at Doom. The smell? Like rotting garbage, set ablaze in an infernal furnace. Doom twisted his body, leaping to the side— Just in time. The ground where he had stood moments ago was obliterated, a massive crater left in its place. But Doom was already on the move. He rushed forward—his blade poised for the kill. With a single, powerful thrust, he drove the longsword deep into the Hellhound's gaping mouth. The creature let out a howl of agony. A second pillar of flame exploded from its throat—directly engulfing Doom. His body convulsed in pain. But— This fire was not meant for the flesh. It was meant for the soul. Doom screamed—but he did not relent. Gritting his teeth, he twisted the sword deeper— With a sickening crunch, the Hellhound's skull shattered. The beast collapsed, twitching once before finally going still. Doom fell to his knees, gasping for air. Every inch of his body ached— But he was still alive. __ Doom pushed himself to his feet. The path forward awaited him. As he trudged through the floating desert, he could hear them. The screams. The agonized wails of the damned, piercing into his skull. Even covering his ears was useless. The voices clawed into his mind, gnawing at his sanity. But he pressed forward. Kilometers passed. His face pale, his strength waning— But then, in the distance, his eyes widened. A cage. Hanging in the air. Inside— A figure. His heart pounded. __ Long, silky black hair. A face frozen in time. "Victor…?" The voice shook him to his core. "Why are you here? You must leave! You do not know Mephisto's power!" His mother. Grace. Doom's hands trembled. "Mother!" he choked out. "I came to save you!" "We can escape!" Tears shimmered in her eyes. "My child," Grace whispered, "just open the cage. We must leave before Mephisto awakens." Doom's breath hitched. It was happening. Everything— Everything he had done— Led to this moment. __ Doom levitated, his body glowing with dark green energy. His magic sword slashed downward. The rusted lock snapped. The cage door creaked open. Grace stepped forward, her hands gently cradling Doom's face. A moment of peace. A moment of victory. And then— Laughter. __ A voice, mocking and cruel, echoed through Hell. "Such touching affection… HAHAHA! Mortal emotions are truly amusing." Doom froze. He looked up— And his blood ran cold. Grace's hands— Had turned into clawed, red talons. Her face— A demonic mask. Standing before him— Wrapped in flowing crimson robes, eyes gleaming with malice and delight— Was the true Lord of Hell. Mephisto. -------------- T/N: Access Advance Chapters on my P@treon: [email protected]/MPHFics