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Judas didn't know what to expect of death. He had never been a particularly religious man. God wasn't there to save him when he was a child, no matter how hard he prayed. God didn't put a stop to his evils when he roamed the earth with a taste for blood and chaos. God didn't rescue Dominic, or spare their children (yes, their) from finding their bodies bloodied and mutilated on the floor. There was no God and Judas hadn't given the concept much thought during his life time, choosing to believe in himself. To rely on himself. People were evil because they chose to be. Satan wasn't around yanking strings and luring people into temptation. Sometimes, people were just <i>bad. </i><br/>
<br/>
At least, that's what he believed.<br/>
<br/>
A single bullet to the brain and abrupt darkness followed. No pain, no fear, just emptiness. He had no conscious thought, no recollection of the experience that occurred between the end of his life, and the start of his new one.<br/>
<br/>
His new life, began with pain. He knew nothing, but that pain and the loneliness that always followed. It was always Dominic--his puppy, his mate, his lover, doing the torturing. For some reason, they always ended back up in Dominic's same little New York home. There were weapons. He was strung up, like a slab of meat left to drain. Tools of hate that were familiar relics from his childhood. The rusty pocket knife. A belt. The torn end of an electrical plug. If Judas was being honest, the physical pain of it all was brief. Disassociation came naturally. He packed himself away into a small chest, dug a hole deep into the soul of himself and buried his valuables there--to be protected until the pain passed.<br/>
<br/>
No, what hurt the most was watching Dominic's handsome face contort into shapes of rage and hate. His large hands, once loving and protective, eagerly reached for a different tool to inflict more damage on his still body.<br/>
<br/>
Judas didn't cry out, he didn't scream. Dull grey eyes just stared back at his mate, who betrayed him over and over and over with each slice, stab or whipping.<br/>
<br/>
A part of him wanted to scream out. Not in pain, but in apology. He wanted to beg for Dominic's forgiveness until his throat bled, cry tears of regret until he couldn't anymore. But he had spent his life, saying all the wrong things at all the wrong times, lying when he should've been honest with the one man who could ever understand him. So when he spoke, his lips chose to form the words he had regretted never saying the most.<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(61, 142, 185)">"I love you, baby."</span><br/>
<br/>
The cord cracked, tearing across his chest.<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(61, 142, 185)">"I love you. Puppy--I love you. I do. I love you." </span>His voice was little more than a whisper, lips cracked beyond recognition, occasionally moistened with blood.<br/>
<br/>
Oh the blood. There was so much of it. He could taste it. Smell it. He was pissing it, shitting it, vomiting it, eating it. There was no escaping the blood, the filth.  A part of him didn't want to escape. He wanted to stay right where he was, as close to Dominic as he could possibly get. This was the eternity he had wished for. It was the one he deserved, for not loving Dominic like he should've. He never cried for himself. Not a single tear. He cried plenty for his puppy. For the man that seemed so lost beneath the hate.<br/>
<br/>
Eventually, he had buried so much of himself that he couldn't even cry for Dominic. To escape the pain, he simply focused on his eyes. The absolute purity of his rage-filled baby blues, that stood out so sharply against his blood--stained all over his face.<br/>
<br/>
Judas didn't expect it to end, and as long as he had Dominic in front of him, it didn't have to.<br/>
<br/>
But of course, he couldn't have that either.<br/>
<br/>
One day, he couldn't tell you when--It was after he had buried his own name, his memories, his passions, his hatred. It was long after he had buried everything about himself, except for his love for Dominic Black.<br/>
<br/>
It was on that day, that the pain stopped and Dominic was taken away from him.<br/>
<br/>
And oh, how he screamed. Judas thrashed in the bonds, screaming because he couldn't understand, because his last shred of comfort had been ripped away. The bonds that once held him for an eternity, broke so easily at the violent twisting of his body. When he touched the ground, it wasn't the cool wooden floors of their home that greeted him, no, it was hard and jagged stone--hot to the touch and wet with his blood. He didn't have the energy or capability to move, instead he laid out on his back.<br/>
<br/>
Baby blues were replaced by too bright red eyes and rich brown skin. A unfamiliar face stared back at him. Those inhuman eyes bore through him, he felt as if his soul had been ripped out and it was currently being jammed through an X-ray. But He couldn't scream anymore, he couldn't complain. He just wanted his puppy back.<br/>
<br/>
Grey eyes couldn't focus on a singular point, moving from too red eyes to Burgundy horns that curled from the beast and nestled a flaming crown that danced above.<br/>
<br/>
<b>"...What is wrong with you?"</b> The beast asked him and Judas, mind already lost, felt his lips slowly twist into a smile. He was in a dream. <br/>
<br/>
<b>"I craft this perfect Hell for you,"</b> the beast murmured, kneeling down to touch his face. His finger tips felt like magma against his skin, but Judas didn't scream. He convulsed, sweated, and groaned--but his throat was too raw to even produce the faintest of noises.  <b>"And what truly causes you pain...is having your torturer taken away?" </b>Another flaming caress.<br/>
<br/>
He wanted his puppy. He wanted to wake up.<br/>
<br/>
<b>"Do you know how long you've been down here? How long you've somehow...manage to protect the important pieces of your soul?"</b> The beast spoke more to himself than to him.<b> "Chewed up all around the edges, but generally, untapped." </b> Was that awe he heard? No. Curiosity? <b>"Usually, I'd wait at least a millennium, before converting what remains of your soul into a demon, meant to serve me."</b><br/>
<br/>
Judas wanted to laugh, but he couldn't suck in the air fast enough, his labored breath became coughs, spittles of blood flying out just to land back on his face.<br/>
<br/>
<b>"But...I think it will be in my best interest...and yours, to convert you now."</b><br/>
<br/>
The human soul  looked away from the beast, from his cloven feet, clawed fingers and muscled chest. He closed his eyes and watched his blue eyed demon dance behind his lids. Long brown hair, bright colored eyes--a strong brow and nose. His puppy. When he re-opened his eyes, he was in the arms of the beast, above him, the landscape changed rapidly. He saw black stars, red stone, foliage moving in the wind. He couldn't understand what he was looking at. The rhythmic sway of their journey didn't help make matters any clearer.<br/>
<br/>
Soon, he felt heat at his back. Heard the insidious sound of bubbling, thick, liquid and flames roaring.<br/>
<br/>
<b>"Time for your rebirth. I will see you on the other side." </b>The words seemed so out of place, coming from the devil's lips. Oddly comforting and reassuring.<br/>
<br/>
Confusion was all he felt, as he was dropped into the molten pit of Hell.<br/>
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