Beyond Hell and Back Ch. 04

And extreme circumstances, Holly thought, called for extreme measures. Simona had crossed the line. It was time to pull out the big guns. The gloves were off. She was going to make Simona pay for this, with the pain, agony and suffering of her life.

And almost before she knew what she was doing, Holly's hands were the next to raise.

And the next thing Simona knew, everything went red.

Then black.

***

October 31st, 5:18 p.m.

"Yeah...look, I'm sorry to ask you to help me out with this sorta thing again, but...well, I'm kinda parked right outside, and, uh...

"...Right. Yeah. You probably won't believe this...then again, you might. This little bitch who just started working at the school a short while ago made a move on me today...yeah...actually, a few moves...

"...I know! Right?! And then, as if that wasn't bad enough, Rachel shows up! At the worst possible moment! I didn't even do anything here; the slut came on me. And Rache split before I could explain.

"...Well, I'm not proud of this, but...I snapped, and...I strangled her...yeah...then I dragged her out to my car...

"...Yeah, she's still passed out in my backseat. I didn't kill her, I just knocked her out for a while...I didn't mean to, but...

"...Heh! That is good; for all she'll know, she'll think she really did die and actually w—...yes! Exactly!...

"...Okay, just one sec."

Holly hung up the phone and got out of the car. She'd parked in the same secluded area in the trench of Kent and Juniper just adjacent to the alley bordering 666 Kent Street. She had to minimize the time needed to make this quick drop-off so she could get back home, find Rachel, and explain everything. She opened the back door, grabbed Simona under the arms, mustered her strength again, and pulled her out. Once more just hoping no one construed this as the suspicious behavior it was, she dragged her up to the back alley door and discreetly rapped on it.

A few moments later, the lock clicked, the door creaked open...

...And there they were. Those cold, steely icy-blue eyes.

"Were you followed?"

"No."

The door creaked open enough to let her in. Holly only entered far enough to be able to lug in Simona, throw her down on the floor, and retire. She had to get home to Rachel. She only hoped Rachel would be there, and had not set the house on fire. She stormed back out alone, shut the car doors, peeled out and drove straight home.

***

October 31st, 5:46 p.m.

The sun was half down. The townschildren were gussied up in their costumes, about to hit the streets with their baskets and bags: the younger accompanied by their parents, the older by their friends. The grown-ups and neighborhood residents turned on their lights, opened their doors, brought out the candy bowls and prepared to scare.

No one, however, was to come to 666 Kent Street tonight.

If Simona had begun to revive from Holly's throttling of her, she was again knocked out by the blow absorbed when she hit the warehouse floor. Half an hour later, she had been blindfolded...stripped nude...hand- and footcuffed...pulled to the bolt wall on her back...feet first...and hoisted over the top of the wall by the ankles...upside-down...until she could be manually bolted to it by all four cuffs, now forming a giant naked 'X' facing outwards.

And then there were the couple of other setups in play.

The sun was still steadily on its way down; it was about to happen.

If only Simona Amie Herrington knew what was to befall her.

Before she went lightheaded all over again, the smelling salts were waved over her nostrils.

Sniff! Simona winced as she stirred to consciousness. A couple more short seconds were all that elapsed before—

"H—...w—...wh—...WHAT...OHM—...WHAT THE HELL?!"

A smile.

An evil smile.

"That's correct."

"Huh?!"

"HELL-o," said a deep, sinister female voice.

"Who's...wha—..."

Simona was too startled to complete any sentences, declaratory, interrogatory or otherwise. She pulled at the cuffs, realizing she couldn't move. Her tongue was tied. Finally...she just screamed.

"AAAAAAAAAHHH!!"

"Perhaps you may permit me to explicate," uttered the voice. "You see, Simona, my dear..."

She waited the last short while until the sun finally bade farewell and descended invisibly below the horizon.

The circadian transformation was completed. Across her face slithered the dastardly broad grin.

"...You're dead," said The Devil.

Simona waited one shocked moment and shrieked, tears accompanying her wildly panicking mood.

"WHAAAAAT??!"

"Oh, yes. It's really quite simple. Simona Herrington, my sweet child..."

Simona felt a sharp, jagged fingernail pricklingly stroke from her knee down her outer thigh.

"...You've literally died, and gone to hell."

Under normal enough circumstances, Simona would have been the least bit skeptical upon hearing such a development. But already freaked as she was, suspended and hanging upside-down, blinded, immobile, blood rushing to her head, she was more inclined to believe what she was told.

"NOOOOOOOO!!" wailed Simona.

"Why, yes! Do you happen to remember the afternoon of October the thirty-first?"

Simona was far too petrified to even begin trying to remember such dated events.

"Very well; I'll remind you. It seems you were quite a naughty girl, especially vis-à-vis the affairs of Mrs. Holly Lil Greentree."

"B—...BUT...BU—..."

"Ah—do not...interrupt.

"...

"...That's better. Now then. You were throttled to death as a result of your brashly inappropriate office behavior, which finally crossed a fatal boundary that day, when you paid a visit to Mrs. Greentree after school let out, and accosted her. You harassed her, both professionally and sexually. What was more, you abused your co-workers, and you abused the privilege of a position of employment granted courtesy of firsthand nepotism.

"You're a bad person, Simona. A bad little girl.

"And when bad little girls die, this is where their souls come to spend eternity."

Simona was already bawling hysterically. How this woman knew all this about her she couldn't fathom—unless it really was true. She never knew if she believed in heaven or hell before, and even if she did, she couldn't imagine either one feeling this real. It felt too real to be a bad dream. Could this be true??

Was she really actually dead?...IN HELL??

Being dead alone would already put enough of a damper on things.

"Therefore, I reiterate: welcome to hell. My name is Farrah. I'll be your hostess, and your torture mistress."

"Wh-wh-what??" Simona sobbed.

"Surely a perceptive damsel such as yourself can follow the logic. It's called karma, Simona. When you are bad, you must be punished. When you are bad enough, and pass on, you subject yourself to eternal damnation."

"NOOO-OO-OO-OO!!" Simona repeated.

"Yes!" Farrah contradicted cheerfully. "So! Shall we get on with it?"

"What?!"

"Well, yes! Your punishment, of course, silly!"

"Bu—...but-but-but...I don't wanna be punished!" Simona bawled.

"Oh, if only it were that easy, dear. Take Mrs. Greentree, for example. She didn't want to be so rudely intruded upon that afternoon in her classroom, and molested by the likes of you. But that happened as well, did it not?"

"But...what're...what're you gonna do to me??"

Farrah chuckled. But that was all. Simona waited, but was privy to no further response for several moments.

Before awakening her, Farrah had gone to the pleasure of hooking a dozen or so electrodes to Simona's naked body—covering her most fragile, vulnerable areas—all of which were wired to a remote Farrah held in her hand. The remote consisted of one large button under a circular dial with a dormant setting at zero and ten settings of intensity clockwise around it. It had been turned off to this point. The time had arrived to switch it on.

Simona received her answer in nonverbal form a minute or two later. As Farrah flipped on the remote, Simona heard a short zzzt-sound as the current activated through the wires. The next thing she heard was a very faint, very low hum. Whatever it was, she couldn't guess, but her concentration was thrown off by the electrodes attached onto her skin, which pinched tighter when Farrah turned on the remote. She decided to toss the girl right into the fire pit. She turned the dial to level four.

Once the remote was on, all Farrah needed to do was turn the dial to any setting, hold down the button and essentially just let Simona electrocute herself, by simply moving. The electrodes' effect was basically muted if the victim held perfectly still, but the more said victim moved, the greater a shock she took.

A few more moments following her sadistic chuckling, Farrah pressed and held down the remote button. While still twitching, this caused moderate initial jolts to shoot through Simona's body from head to toe.

"YYYYAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" she screeched. "OWWWW! WHAT THE...!!"

"Oh, isn't electricity fun??" Farrah chortled.

"Y—...you're electrocuting me?!!"

"Mm, for now, anyway," Farrah giggled, turning the dial up another notch, bringing the intensity to level five. "However, if you just hold still...it won't hurt."

This didn't grant Simona a wealth of comfort, but she held as still as she could. Farrah pressed down the button, and Simona tried to just stop herself from quivering, clenching her fists, teeth and toes around the pinching agony. The electrodes felt like small patches of needles pricking her delicate flesh.

"Ouch!...Ow...ow...OW!..." she moaned, scrunching her face into a painful cringe.

"Now let's make this more fun for both of us," Farrah continued. "Tell me, Simona, my girl-pet..."

She lowered her voice to a bone-chilling whisper.

"...Are you ticklish?"

Simona didn't like the sound of this.

"...Am...am I what?"

Very well, thought Farrah, deciding to find out for herself. Upside-down, Simona's soles were facing straight up. Holding down the remote button, Farrah reached up, and scraped one long, edgy black fingernail down the bottom of the girl's left foot. This set off a diabolical chain reaction in Simona: the trigger of her indeed ticklish nerve endings forced her to laugh...which brought on an involuntary spasm in her muscles as the laugh escaped...which in turn set off the electrodes. The result—

"HeeeeheeeheeeEEYYYYEEEEEEEOOOOOOWWWWWTCH!!"

Her laugh morphed into a bloodcurdling cry of blinding, searing, unreal pain. She felt the excruciating jolts through her extremities, her breasts, her ass, her pussy, and a number of her less sensitive regions in turn. The lady was right; this was hell.

"Awww...poor baby..." oozed the evil Devil woman's voice, slow and cruel. "...Does it hurt, little girl?..."

Simona was crying so hard, several different fluids were emanating from her body. With her frame inverted on this wall, gravity took over and ran her tears, sweat, saliva and so on down her forehead, her loose-hanging hair, forming a puddle of misery on the hard wooden warehouse floor.

"Oh, PLEE-EE-EE-EEASE!" Simona wailed, live sparks sizzling on her sore reddening flesh. "PLEE-EE-EEASE, whoever you are, MER-R-R-RCY-Y-Y-Y!"

"Oh, but I'm afraid not, my little talking doll toy," Farrah shook her head. "Hell doesn't just hand out reprieve like you're hoping. Hell doesn't forgive, and doesn't forget, either. Hell hath no mercy."

"B-b-but...I...I'm sorry!" Simona blubbered helplessly. "I'm sorry!! I'M SO SORRY!! PLEEEEEEEASE!!"

Farrah chuckled again, turning the dial once more. Setting six. Down went the button. Up she reached to Simona's right foot.

"Too little, too late, dearie. Goochie-goochie-goochie-goochie!!"

Poor Simona was driven through yet a second nightmarish, inexorable ticklish shock wave. She shrieked her lungs out, and resumed crying like an infant as the electricity wore back down.

Farrah only maliciously laughed down at her woeful sobbing. Oh, she was loving this.

"Oh, I am loving this."

"How could you?!" the girl whined in stark despair. "How could you be so...so..."

"...Ruthless?" Farrah suggested gleefully. "...Spiteful?...Fiendish?"

She shrugged. "I can't help it, sweetie. I'm The Devil. I just adore making naughty little children suffer."

"I DON'T DESERVE THIS!!" Simona forcefully declared.

"Oh, you're adorable." Click. Setting seven. "Let's just see how sensitive that sweet little pink pussy is, shall we?"

Predictably, Farrah wiggled her fingernail between Simona's trembling labia.

Simona went crazy.

"EEEEEEEEEEEHHHEEEEEYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

"So what do you think, darlin'?" Farrah wanted to know. "Thinking about what you did and why it was wrong? Any regrets?"

"Ye-e-e-essss!" Simona wept. "E-e-e-everythi-i-ing!"

Her crying was so pitiful Farrah almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

"Ohhh-kay..." Farrah said. "A'right, kiddo, tell you what. Too much crying kinda bums me out, be honest with ya, so I'm just gonna tickle ya to death for a while. Figure of speech, of course, seeing as how you're already dead."

"OH GOD, PLEASE, DON'T!!"

"But it's just tickling..." Farrah grinned, drawing out the words. "Even a baby can handle a little innocent tickling..."

"PLEEEEEEASE!"

"Oh, dear gal, you'll learn quickly here in hell that tickle torment is just about my favorite thing. That wonderful sound of forced laughter is almost as delicious as that of an agonizing scream."

"Oh, God, why are you doing this to me? Why??" Simona cried.

"I appreciate the worship, little dollface, but I'm not God. My name is Farrah. I'm The Devil, sweetie."

Farrah dug her sharp nails into Simona's breasts, her tummy, her armpits, her ribs, her ass, her cunt, her calves, her tootsies, randomly and rapidly hitting aimless spots all over, driving her utterly insane. Another couple minutes of sheer literal hell later, Farrah gave Simona a little rest. But she told her not to get too used to it, for the worst was still yet to come. Another short time followed before Simona heard a strange rustling sound.

"...What's going on?" she asked tearfully.

"Do you know what this is?" came the terrifying voice.

"N—...no..."

"The proper term is called 'ilex.' You may better know this material as...

"...'Holly.'"

Farrah retrieved a long snaking string of the artificial, extra durable orange garland which she began threading through the eyes of the bolts in the wall, starting at the bottom under Simona's head and working her way clockwise around her body until she'd lined the entire circumference. Once she'd covered the whole 360°, she kept going around again until she'd used up the excess length of the holly. Simona was whimpering, anticipating the scalding terror of whatever was coming next. Finally, Farrah finished lining the wall and picked up the next item to be put to use: a lighter.

"This holly, my child, is bright orange...and about to turn bright black.

"So Happy Halloween, my dear...

"You may well think of this evening as The Nightmare Before Christmas.

"It is now, Simona, with great pleasure, that I welcome you to the next circle of hell."

"H—...huh?" Simona whined.

"That's right; if you wish to know what's happening at this juncture, just use your other senses. I'm sure it won't take long."

Farrah again chuckled under her breath as she activated the lighter and touched the flame to the sturdy yet still flammable festive fake foliage. Simona's ears perked up at the sound of the singeing ignition. She gasped with fright as the immediate temperature around her ascended. The fire caught, slinking its way the entire length of the wall. Simona again screamed as she detected what was happening. She was being...set on fire!

"OHHHHNOOOOO-OO-OO-OO-OO!!" she yowled.

"Oh ye-e-e-e-es!" Farrah laughed despicably. "Burn, my pet, burn."

The next Simona knew, four cuff-adjacent bolts were all that separated her dizzy, exposed 5'7" figure from a rectangle of blazing, blackening holiday garnish. Identical repetitive shouts and pleas ensued. Jovially ignoring her, the next thing Farrah lit was a candle she held in her other hand. The candle was four inches in length and two in diameter.

"Having fun, my flammable little waif?"

"HEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLP!" Simona howled, screaming bloody murder. "HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLP!!"

"If you're quite done..." Farrah addressed her, raising her voice to carry over Simona's tantrum. "I believe it's time to move along to our next experiment of the evening..."

With her free hand, Farrah parted Simona's perspiring cunt lips just as wide ajar as they'd spread. Holding her open with her left hand, without any further ado or another moment wasted, she proceeded to turn the lit candle upside-down with her right, and allowed not a spot of wax to drip off before extinguishing it...in Simona's pussy.

And then, before the sensation could so much as register in her brain, solely to add injury to injury, Farrah drew her hot labia back together, nice and tight around the candle. Only to allow the inside of her pussy no oxygenated relief.

The sensation registered.

"YYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW!!"

"HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAAAAAAA!" Farrah maniacally cackled, whipping the candle back out of Simona's now scorched pussy, throwing her head back in merry, malevolent mirth as the girl continuing crying out in glass-shattering, macabre tortured shrieks.

"Go right ahead, Miss Simona. Scream your pretty little head off; no one's gonna hear ya."

"Oh, just KILL ME!!" Simona yelled.

Farrah crouched down beside her pretty little head, tickling under the chin.

"You're already dead, pumpkin."

"Noooooooo..." Simona futilely implored, approaching the surroundings of qualified laryngitis. "I can't stand this!"

"You don't say," said Farrah, reaching up to jiggle her curling, quivering toes. "Perhaps you should have given a bit more thought to that before being such a bitch to everyone around you when you were alive."

"I'm SORRY!!" Simona reiterated, drowning in her running facial fluids. "How many times do I have to say it??!"

"Say it as many times as you so please," came the doomful reply. "It's too late to change anything."

"BUT...BUT...NOOOO!" exclaimed Simona for the umpteenth time. "This can't be happening!"

"Oh, but it can," Farrah again calmly corrected her. "Hell, my child, is real. Your agony is real. This nightmare is real.

"It's all real."

"Oh, God..." Simona croaked, realizing her fate was actually, irreparably sealed.

"No, no, no," The Devil repeated. "Again, Farrah. Say it with me: 'FAR-rah.' I'd settle for, 'Oh, Devil,' but I yet prefer Farrah."

Simona knew not what to do other than go on crying. This was indeed a nightmare beyond her wildest fears, and it had come true. It was as real as her sweat, her tears, the smoke dissipating from her torched vagina. She could not fully process it, and yet, she could do no other than fully process it. She saw no way of getting around this. She was dead; she was in hell. For...the rest of time, space and everything, she could only reckon. She hadn't really believed in either the salvation or the condemnation of one's deceased soul after death since she was a child, but she was now rather compelled to take a second look at her beliefs.