What The Hell?

Chapters

Chapter 1: Hellbent
Chapter 2: Red Is In
Chapter 3: Spawn Of A Different Kind
Chapter 4: Ghosts Are Real

Chapter 1: Hellbent

Hello, dear readers. Allow me to introduce myself as the hostage narrator trapped against his will reading this shitty ass story to you all. My voice is unimportant. If you want you can think I'm Morgan Freeman, or maybe Nicholas Cage. Anyway, I can't get out of this room until I'm done reading this story, so shut up and listen.

We begin our tale in Hell of all places. Yes, that fiery shit hole of brimstone and the billions of screams of the damned is where our story starts, so you can expect the rest of this fic to definitely have better taste. Anyways, in the dead center of this pit of damnation lies the throne of the Angel of Light, Satan.

While a never ending inferno danced about him with souls being perpetually tortured by grinning demons, the King of Evil wasn't having the best of times. Shrouded in shadows with just his blazing red eyes to distinguish himself, Satan only pouted and drummed his smoke-like claws, bored out of his immortal mind. His servant and what could be considered his only friend, Beelzebub, tried to comfort his master.

"Dear lord, is something troubling you? Are not the tortures for the sinners to your liking? Are the wicked demons not being wicked enough? Is your thirst for blood not quenched?" the high demon asked, fearful at what his master's darker than usual mood implied. Whenever Satan gets grumpy, it can only mean catastrophic results on world destroying levels. Or another celebrity breakup. It seems the second one usually causes more disaster than any earthquake can do.

"Sometimes I just get tired of it all. The maiming, the whipping, the dunking in boiling hot lava, and even the forced listening of Rebecca Black have all lost their usual torturous luster. Not even the sweet music of the damned screams can please my ears," he said, his voice muffled by the shadows, but still holding enough authority in them to shatter a mountain and cause entire armies to war with each other.

"Is there something I can do to help, oh malevolent lord?" Beelzebub nervously requested, his scaly green skin leaking slime profusely and his insect like eyes shifting in all directions. He could be considered a normal human except for those traits, and also the fact his mouth was filled with some of the vilest examples of teeth that would make a dentist have a heart attack. But his snazzy purple suit made up for it.

"What you can do is SHUT UP!" Satan roared, his henchman and just about every inhabitant in Hell quivering with terror. Sighing melodramatically, the adversary of God continued to sulk. "If only there was a way to be free from the chains this hole has over me."

"Why don't you go to Earth? Maybe stirring up trouble for the mortals can liven you up?" Beelzebub suggested, hiding behind his master's throne to avoid the incineration that Satan enjoyed inflicting on his subjects.

"What's the point of being on the mortal plane when I can never rule it? Never control that pathetic hunk of rock like the true God that I am? The only trouble I can do is trick some idiot into selling his soul for a candy bar. Truthfully, that was fun the first dozen or so times, but now it's just sad."

"You still fucking suck for doing that to me!" yelled a soul being dipped into hot lava. Satan flicked his wrist and the lava consumed the pissed off soul.

Satan rested his forehead on his hand and glared with unquenchable hate at his kingdom. "Look at this pitiful God who can't even fully leave his own realm. Forced to persecute the evil, but never able to truly control what is rightfully his. The world, the universe, life itself belongs to me. And yet I can not acquire what is naturally my birthright because of Him."

"M-master, isn't there a way to leave this place forever?" Beelzebub yelled from across the room, which he moved as a buffer zone just in case.

"Don't you think I would've have left this cursed prison if I had an option? What do you take me for, a fool?" Satan demanded, appearing before his lackey with the flames of eternal suffering lighting his eyes. If Beelzebub had a mortal body he'd probably be shitting himself right now.

Grabbing his bumbling assistant's fat neck, he began his favorite pastime, which was wringing Beelzebub until his insect like eyes popped out of his head. "Eons of searching through the greatest annals of knowledge throughout the entire universe and I still haven't discovered a key to my freedom! What suggestion do have for that, you miserable little bug?"

"Gah-ah *hack* i-in *cough* ter-" Satan momentarily ceased the crushing of his henchman's throat and allowed him to gulp like a fish on the ground.

"What was that, whelp?" Satan kicked his assistant in the stomach to force him to answer quicker.

"*Cough* w-we can u-use the *gasp*... internet!" Unfortunately for poor Beelzebub, his torture wasn't over. Pretty fitting since he's in the state capital for capital punishment.

"Internet? Do I look like some teenage girl who hasn't nothing better to do than 'tweet' and 'like' and watch hours upon hours of porn?"

"N-no, master! We can merely use it to search for a clue to freeing you from Hell! Please don't send me into the sodomy pits again!" The pitiful look on Beelzebub's face can only be described as a strange mix between a kicked puppy and a horribly disfigured alien whose mother never loved him.

While the thought of another trip to the sodomy pits for his insufferable flunky put a pleasant smile on Satan's unseeable face, a shot at obtaining sweet, sweet freedom was too great. "Okay you fat bug, we'll use the internet," he spat, like he was describing the practice of some new form of dark magic. "But if this doesn't work, then you can expect some downtime in both the sodomy pits and the salt pile for a couple of centuries."

Gulping a hue wad of dread at the impeding asswhooping (literally) he'd be receiving in the not so far future, Beelzebub summoned the simple dell laptop that he used time to time. Clicking on Internet Explorer, the Google search engine appeared with a certain eagerness to do what it was made for: searching for pornography. Sadly for it, that would not be its function at the moment. In twenty minutes or so it probably will be.

Typing in the words "Key to getting out of Hell?", the search engine racked through its links across spacetime, dimensions, and local Starbucks. Once the numerous links appeared, Beelzebub scrolled down under the scrupulous gaze of his master.

"Let's see here, accept Jesus into your heart... won't really help since you don't have one; do good deeds... ain't gonna happen anytime soon; Scientology... what is that?"

"You blasted cockroach, get on with it! You know what I do to those that waste my time."

"Aha! Here it is!" Beelzebub shouted, moving out of the way so his master may inspect the screen. "It says right here that a soul can get out of Hell using the powers of harmony and good!"

Smacking his head with a backhanded hit that sent Beelzebub flying, Satan approached the laptop to see if this claim was true. "Hmm, it says right here on this thing called Wikipedia that is indeed the case. Plus, it's an encyclopedia, so its contents must be true! But there's still one problem, however."

Satan picked the disorientated demon up with a massive clawed hand and peered deep into his eyes until Beelzebub's very soul felt like it was set aflame. "I have no access to any 'harmony' or 'good.' How do you plan to for me to acquire these when I have none in this damn hole?"

Once again Beelzebub did what he was best at, which is cower like a little girl when threatened. But in the recesses of his mind sprouted an idea, which could free him from impeding doom by behind. "Wait, master, there's another way! We can get harmony in Hell to free you!"

Satan reached down and clutched his lackey with enough force to make his already bulged eyeballs stick out like... well, like eyes on a fly, actually. "You impudent moron! Harmony is a state of being, not something you can order by phone or FedEx!"

"T-th-there i-is a way f-for you t-to..." Realizing he wasn't breathing anymore, Satan let up on the crushing for his henchman to allow him to spit out the end of his sentence, "to acquire harmony, with the elements..."

"Elements? What the heaven are you talking about?" Satan demanded.

"The Elements of Harmony," Beelzebub finished, gasping huge lungs full of brimstone infused air.

"What are these Elements? I demand you answer me!" Satan yelled, dropping his lackey graciously on the ground where he laid until Satan gave him a good kick to the groin. Holding his now smashed genitals, which would painfully heal in a few minutes, Beelzebub limps back the the laptop and typed in a couple of words. Hobbling a good distance away, the screen was open to Satan to see.

"Elements of Harmony, six supernatural artifacts which are some of the most powerful forces in the universe," Satan muttered to himself, intrigued. "Each artifact represents an element of friendship and can presumably only work if wielded by one who possesses the corresponding trait, and only if all are used together. Blah blah blah, yadda yadda yadda... ah, here we go! They are to be wielded on rare occasions, particularly in events of pandemonium and anarchy as a last resort to restore and enforce the balance of peace and order. The effects of their power usually involve... banishment or imprisonment."

A wicked grin of smoldering flames played on Satan's shadowed face, while his eyes burned with an unquenchable hunger. "Beelzebub, where are these Elements located?"

Beelzebub, shocked that his master used his own name instead of an insult, said, "Equestria, sir. Land of the ponies."

Dark magic began flowing like a serpent down his arm until it pooled in a sinister circle by his feet. An image started to appear above the circle, until it formed a crystal clear picture of a blue planet out in the vacuum of space. An immensely tiny sun could be seen orbiting the planet is a strangely unnatural loop, along with a much smaller moon. Bringing his claw into a fist, the image began to zoom, getting closer and closer to the planet's bright green surface. Rivers could be seen, then mountains, deserts, the beginning of small towns, until it went right past the cloud cover and stopped before a large mountain. Atop the majestic mountain laid a city of elegant beauty, a great contrast from Hell's demonic gothic architecture.

The image began to move closer and closer to a magnificent palace with towers that reached the tips of the sky. Inside one of the highest towers was a beautifully adorned vault, and from this vault waves of power could be felt. The immense energy springing forth from the vault sent shivers of pleasure down Satan, who was amazed he could still feel its affects from a couple of dimensions of distance. From the vault materialized a faint outline of six objects resting in a chest. The source of the power, and the source to Satan's freedom.

The picture disintegrated and Satan returned his attention to his servant. "Beelzebub, how did you know of these Elements of Harmony?"

"The internet, my lord. On it was birthed an entire community of grown men obsessed with this one show for six year old girls. Curious, I ventured further into their claims of how awesome the show, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, was, and I discovered the Elements from there." He of course wasn't going to mention how he instantly fell in love with the show and grew to enjoy watching his daily dose of ponies whenever he didn't have to torture souls.

"So this world from a television show is real? Interesting... Do you really think I can be freed from this insufferable place with their power?" Satan asked, rubbing his nonexistent chin with a claw.

"Of course, master. They have the power to trap a God in stone. Freeing you from this dimension would be a cinch."

"Yes, yes, this is good. Beelzebub, get my army ready. I want every demon in under my power on Equestria as soon as possible. From the lowest imp to the highest arch demon, I want that planet torn to the ground for those Elements."

Satan departed from his throne, all too happy to brood around now. His freedom was nearly in hand, and all he had to do is take over one world with the vast army of evil souls and demons he has acquired over the eons. An all too easy task on its own.

Beelzebub was just glad to not to get a trip to the sodomy pits again. Snapping his fingers, a bright red button rose out of the smoldering hot earth. Lifting the glass case covering it, he pounded the button, the words "Release the Horde" flashing on and off on it.

In three other dimensions the first creatures to be dispatched were definitely not what Satan had in mind as his demon army. Although they technically counted, they were exactly what he had in mind of what a demon should be. A boy, a ghost, and a spawn.

Chapter 2: Red Is In

Brazil Rainforest

May 12, 1998

"Hey Abe, why am I down in the freakin' middle of a rainforest again?" Hellboy asked, his hand holding down his ear to he could better hear his earpiece communicator.

"Locals reported paranormal activity in the general vicinity. Besides, you always said you wanted a vacation," Abe replied. Hellboy could only imagine his grinning blue face talking to him from behind a microphone.

"A vacation would've been nice, if I wasn't stuck in a third world country on job assignment. And now we're going on crazy local superstition. Sounds real professional." Hellboy ducked under an overhanging vine, yet it still got caught on his stumps for horns. Maybe he needed to shave them again. However, there was still no easy way to avoid tripping over every stump in the forest.

"The reports stated that spirits and other entities are traveling throughout the rainforest. Almost like they're converging to a specific location," Abe explained. This did nothing to improve the infuriated demon's mood. First he had to travel in a cramped airplane for sixteen hours. Then he had to hitch a ride in a jeep older than himself, which traveled across the pothole road capital in the world. And if that wasn't enough, he then had to trample through a rainforest, which wasn't the easiest walk in the park. If it wasn't for his natural ability to be resistant to high temperatures he probably would've died of a heat stroke. And none of that takes into account every blasted insect buzzing around his head.

But all of that wasn't his problem at the moment. The only lead he had was a map from the sixties and north as his general guiding direction. After a couple more hours of mindless wandering trying to discover the spirit hotspot, Hellboy finally found something promising. "Hey Abe, got something interesting over here."

"Interesting how?"

"You know, usual creepy temple of doom type of stuff. Ghosts must be cooped up in there." It was indeed the typical evil temple stereotype, door depicting a skull's mouth filled with razor sharp teeth; gray with what seemed like fresh blood splattered against the walls. And of course it had to be stuck deep in a deadly forest, hidden by shadows and sunk low to the ground. "Why does it seem each sacrifice temple has the same style?"

"Same architect probably. Go in there and do some ghost busting."

"You do know that movie came out over a decade ago?"

"Just get into the creepy temple." Hellboy held in a snicker and approached the demonic-like doors. Eying the mystical markings lining the door, he began to mutter them under his breath.

"Hmm, those who enter will be cursed for all of eternity, blah blah blah, demonic possession, blah blah blah, sacrifice to dark master only on Tuesdays. Seriously Abe, it's so weird how every temple has basically the same message on it. Even the Tuesday part."

"Tuesday is seen as a day of evil in many cultures. You'd think it'd be Monday, but surprisingly not." Yet another fact Abe collected in that fish head noggin of his. Hellboy definitely needed to get him out Bureau headquarters sometime.

Winding his right arm up, Hellboy prepared a polite knock on the door to see if anyone's home. The polite knock resulted in his red, stone-like fist punching through the temple doors and collapsing much of the front wall of the temple. "So, anyone home?" he called out over the noise of falling rubble. As expected, the ancient temple remained silent.

"Anyone ever tell you you'd be perfect for UPS?" Abe commented.

"Abe, I'm the one who's supposed to be sarcastic. Now, let's get this show on the road." Fishing a flashlight from the numerous pockets in his coat, the giant red demon made his way down the shadow infused corridors. So far the only unpleasantries he encountered were musty air and the occasional low doorway he banged his head on. He was starting to believe that the inhabitants there were midgets.

Surprisingly, the interior of the temple reached father down than expected from a general assessment of the outside. Plus, the interior decorator was probably the same guy who built the fucked up place. Symbols of unspeakable torture and other acts of similar horror were scrawled along the walls in a long dead language. Hellboy avoided reading it.

Soon murmurs could be heard just over the slight breeze of wind. Also, when did wind suddenly appear in a locked down temple? "Abe, definitely picking up some weird vibes here," Hellboy reported, scanning the never ending corridor he was traveling with the bright beam of his flashlight. "Ghost activity is a go."

"Red, just got some info that could be useful. It appears you stumbled upon a long abandoned shrine of human sacrifice."

"Yeah, already came to that conclusion about five minutes ago," Hellboy replied, rolling his eyes.

"Not just any human sacrifice. It seems that the tribe that built the shrine were worshiping a particular dark God for the sacrifices."

"Just great, another one of those guys to deal with. So, what dark god are we dealing with here? Some weird Mayan one or something?"

"It appears that all records of their god has been destroyed, except for this one piece of text recovered from their culture. 'The one from the sky is our light' is all I could gather." Sure, he'd defeated plenty of evil beings claiming to be a god of some sort, but those guys usually don't go down easy. And with no other team members or even back up, he was screwed if a huge, demonic monster of unimaginable evil suddenly awakened.

Whispering could be heard, with the occasional chill passing through his forearm or leg sending shovers down Hellboy's spine. It seemed the hallway he was trekking down had no end, and the symbols on the walls became even more bloodier and demented in appearance. The carved stone seemed to be painted over with blood, and now the entire floor was the same rusty red. The bloody hand prints alongside the bottom of the walls certainly didn't improve things.

The air itself seemed to shimmer with the overwhelming presence of spirits and ghouls. Cold fingernails caught in is coat and playfully gripped his tail. He could even see his own breath now. "Abe, the ghost congregation here is way above normal. Something unnatural must've brought them all here."

"Seems like all those human sacrifices greatly increased the spirit population. Be prepared for the unexpected."

"Hey Abe, you know I'm always prepared," Hellboy joked.

"Yeah, yeah, red. Just don't get yourself killed."

"Not until you buy me a pizza when I get back." Hellboy ran smack into a stone doorway, unaware that it was even there. Looks like walking endlessly for a long period of time had that affect on someone. "Ugh, Abe, I found something."

Peeling his face from the exceptionally sturdy door before him, he examined what was hopefully the final obstruction to his destination. Following the cliché design of the rest of the temple, demonic symbols of evil transcending all that is good lined the door. Skulls were a common image, along with spots of blood never being bothered to be washed from the grisly stone.

Ghosts could be seen as wisps, their smoke-like forms swirling around Hellboy and their indistinguishable rambling giving the pissed off devil a headache. "Okay then, evil doorway, say hello to my little friend!" he shouted, pounding a basketball sized hole in the door with his gigantic fist. Much of the door crumbled to tiny bits, revealing the sacrifice shrine.

Imagine Hellboy's surprise at the sight. A fully working hot tub of boiling blood in the middle of a circular room with statues of a snarling snake monster surrounding it. Upon closer inspection, it wasn't exactly a hot tub; more like a raised vat with the red liquid bubbling, even though there wasn't any apparent heat source. The snake monster appeared to be dressed in robes of human skin. It was so lifelike that he could imagine the statues rising from their fixed position and attacking him at any minute. Any minute now...

"Red, what do you see?" Abe asked impatiently from the earpiece.

"A shrine with boiling blood and weird stone statues. Nothing unusual so far."

"Careful Hellboy. You never know when-"

"The stone statues will come to life and try to kill me. Yeah, already guessed that from past experiences," Hellboy replied dryly.

"Actually, I was about to comment on how that boiling blood you mentioned is actually a portal to another dimensional plane." A sinister red glow from the vat caught Hellboy's attention.

"Would've been a really good idea to warn me earlier about that," Hellboy shouted, as the blood from the vat began to rise up in a billowing mass of red liquid and bubbles. Hellboy felt himself being pulled towards the the crimson tornado, like gravity turned up a few notches in that direction.

Runes and markings flashed in mere seconds in the red, and tentacles sprouted forth to grab onto the struggling demon. Fighting was no good as even more tentacles appeared to drag him towards the blood. "Abe, what's happening?" Hellboy cried over the din of swirling human life support fluids.

"Portal... to... a.. stop.......... now... Hellboy!" The rest of the words were cut off and static filled his ear. Finally, with a mighty heave, the mass of blood engulfed and swallowed him whole. Hellboy's only regret that he wasn't going to get the pizza Abe owed him anytime soon.

After what seemed like hours spinning around in a suffocating red sea, Hellboy felt himself being spit out like a wad of gum that's lost its flavor. He was resting on his back, all in all no worse for wear. Strangely enough, he didn't have a drop of blood on him. Which just saved him a trip to the cleaners.

Sunlight poured down his face, which irritated him to no end after being stuck in a dank, dark temple for the last few minutes. Blinking rapidly for his vision to get used to the light, he got up to observe his new surroundings. "What the hell?" he whispered to himself.

He sure wasn't in the rainforest anymore. Grassy hills with flower patches dotted the landscape. A forest sprung up behind him, a certain uneasiness could be felt within it. A town seemed to have sprung up in the distance, with smoke from several houses announcing occupancy.

What really irked him was how lively everything seemed. No human pollution, no cars as far as the eye could see. Even the air had a certain freshness quality Hellboy experienced little of. It did nothing to ease his already confused mind.

An explosion could be heard behind him, along with dirt and smoke springing forth from the blast zone. And from the billowing cloud of smoke stood a stationary figure, not moving an inch. It wasn't until the smoke cleared that Hellboy got a good look at what the figure was.

"Well then, nice flames."

Chapter 3: Spawn Of A Different Kind

"You know what I really hate about graveyards? Having to deal with punks like you," Spawn said as he slammed said punk's head against the tombstone for the fourth time.

There was currently three punks on the ground in various amounts of pain, mostly in the extreme kind, while the fourth was quickly joining them. The man known as Spawn continued to do some internal brain damage on the fourth guy with an almost nonchalant attitude, his masked face revealing nothing while his eyes just glowed an unnatural green in the night.

"Bunch of emo, wannabe asshole trying to summon some demon in the middle of the night in a graveyard. You know how tired I am of this shit? Gets old real quick." Determining that he had enough, Spawn threw his victim with the rest. He then went over to inspect the reason he came over to investigate this graveyard in the first place. A demon occult summoning ritual. And one that actually works.

The usual star symbol drawn in the middle of a large circle with strange symbols surrounding it. And of course it had to be written in blood on top the gravesite of some dead guy. Leaning over he ran a finger through the blood, his glowing eyes furrowing as his suit reacted to it. Demon blood. That's hard to come by for mortals. How these chumps even managed to get a ritual to summon a demon from hell working was still a mystery. But it did make contact with Hell, alerting his symbiotic suit and him when the connection was made. Which is why he's here to find answers.

Going back over to one of the punks currently moaning in pain on the ground, Spawn picked him up from the collar and said with a voice that would make a fully grown demon piss in fear, "Why are you here, and what is the deal with the ritual?"

Whimpering like a puppy that has been kicked too many times, the punk stuttered, "W-we went h-here to summon Satan! We were d-drunk and high from pain medication we s-snatched off my grandma, so we t-thought this was a good idea! It was all Billy's fault!"

"Which one of you idiots is Billy?" Spawn asked, bringing his masked face closer to the bruised and bloody one of his victim.

"T-the fat guy! Right there!" the punk shouted, pointing to an empty spot on the ground. Spawn now noticed there was only three punks now.

He dropped the guy and summoned spikes from his arm, transforming his scarlet cape into a large axe he held closely in his hands. Scanning the graveyard, he was alert for any signs of movement. A familiar laugh from behind him made Spawn's neroplasmatic blood run cold. "Violator," he whispered, turning around to see his old enemy again.

"Aw, you remembered me," the Violator crackled, his appearance as ugly as ever. A short, fat, bald man with a blue face marked in the shape of an M. Also, not to mention his disgusting smell and rotting teeth. As always his fat sack of a stomach hung low and out, while his eyes glowed a crimson red in the darkness of the night. "Did you miss me, pretty boy?"

Spawn whipped his axe at the clown's head, missing it by inches when the fat man jumped back quicker than expected. Spikes exploded out of Spawn's suit aimed directly at the blue faced demon, but with a yawn the Violator lifted his hand in a stop gesture and the spikes disintegrated into green smoke. "Is that all you got, Hellspawn? Those powers won't do shit for you if you can't even get a scratch on me. I thought better of you."

"Let's see how well you think after I chopped your head off!" Spawn shouted, his right arm transforming into a sword as he ran with astonishing speed towards the bulbous demon. With a sickening smile the Violator snapped his finger, teleporting several feet behind Spawn.

"Why I'd just love to continue this fight, the boss is expecting me. Can't keep him waiting. And you now, since you'll just make this game all the more interesting," he chortled, wringing his chubby fingers together in glee.

Spawn stopped in his tracks, holding out his hand to summon upon his necroplasm to attack the demonic clown. "Boss? Malebolgia still ordering your fat ass around?"

"Nope. This is from the big man himself. The original, numero uno, big bad of existence. And boy is he holding one heck of a party!" Before the blue faced demon could let out another laugh he was hit with a fireball of necroplasm energy, the green fire searing his ugly face as he was knocked backward.

Chuckling and wiping away the green fire on his blue painted face, the Violator slowly began to clap his hands. "Oh, well done, Spawn, well done. That really stung. But I got a schedule to keep, and I only arrived to throw you in as an unexpected gift. To shake things up a little." The Violator snapped his fingers, the three previous punks from before burst into roaring green flames. From the fire appeared nightmarish demons straight from Dante's imagination, revolting creatures that would drive the sanest to insanity and the bravest to crying for their mommies while sucking their thumb in the fetal position.

Spawn merely growled and forced metal chains to sprout from his suit with large, curved knives attached at the ends, all of which were pointed at the Violator and his crew. "Is that the best you can do? I've fought kittens scarier than these guys."

The Violator laughed, his enormous gut wiggling like a water balloon being sloshed around. "Oh Spawn, you think I'd leave you with a parting gift like this? You should know by now I don't disappoint." The blue faced clown's body began to change, his true form appearing forth as he continued to laugh. He gut stretched, his face seemed it was going to pop out at any second, and spikes tore out from ever place on his body. In a grand flourish of flesh being torn apart the true Violator appeared from the old, the old's body scraps currently being wiped off.

The true Violator was really uglier than his human form, and that in itself is an achievement. He was several feet taller, his body taking on an almost insect appearance with his limbs elongated to ridiculous proportions that end with razor sharp claws. His glowing red eyes now resembled those of a bug, and his usual sadistic grin was upped past eleven in the creep factor now that his mouth grew teeth bigger than Spawn's head and dripped saliva that burned the ground beneath his feet like acid. His jaw was actually bigger than his body, his head now horribly disproportional to the rest of his now stick thin body. And then there was the three huge, boney spikes popping out from either side of his humongous head and back of his neck. In a nut shell, it looked like someone gave a psychopath LSD and a pencil and told him to draw the craziest looking monster he could think of.

"It feels so good stepping into my old skin again," the Violator whispered in Spawn's mind, the telepathic conversion pissing Spawn off to no end. "And I see you're happy to see the real me as always. Can't resist taking a peak at my new digs?"

Spawn remained silent and advanced at the group of demonic underlings, his chains primed to strike as he pulled out an M-60 from the folds of his cape. "The only thing I can't resist taking a peak at in your corpses when I fill them with lead."

A sadistic chuckle could be heard in Spawn's mind as the Violator turned his head from side to side at Spawn. "Really now? Do I look like some creature that could be defeated by a weapon commonly used by rednecks to kill squirrels for food? Besides, it's not me you have to worry about." Raising his thin arms wide above his head, a noxious green liquid spraying forth from his hands on the three terrifying demons surrounding him. The green fluid was quickly absorbed into their skin, mutating them into bigger and uglier versions of themselves. Growing spikes all along their body, along with extra arms, legs, and head in one of their cases, they definitely got a major upgrade in the threat level.

"Wow, I didn't think it was possible, but you managed to make demons even uglier than usual. But I'm still going to kill you all and drag your corpses to Hell, personally," Spawn said, cocking the M-60 at the Violator's head.

"Sorry to disappoint, but you aren't going to Hell for the time being. But I'm sure this place will be just as worse for someone like you," the Violator chortled, lifting his claw up and squirting out a stream of necroplasm. The toxic liquid missed Spawn, instead falling on the ritual for demon summoning atop the gravesite. Green light began to pour from the ritual markings as a vortex of green fluid began to appear, sucking in everything in the vicinity. Including Spawn.

Slamming multiple chains in deep into the ground and around tombstones, the Hellspawn struggled to stay upright and not get sucked into the tornado of necroplasm energy. Laughing telepathically and in the real world, the Violator grabbed a demon in each hand, throwing them at Spawn. The smacked him head on, but still he stood while the demons were absorbed by the tornado. Gripping the final one in hand, the one with the extra head, the Violator made his way nonchalantly to Spawn.

"You should be thanking me, Spawn. I'm giving you an early invitation to the party before all the fun starts. But this is just insulting. Someone should real teach you some manners." Spawn would have lobbed the demon's head off at that point, but all his energy was being spent trying to avoid being pulled into the strong power of gravity the tornado was inflicting on the surrounding area. "And I guess that someone is me!"

In a dramatic flourish he struck at the Hellspawn with the final demon, beating the antihero until his chains loosened from the ground and tombstones and his body became airborne along with the demon that was used to beat him from his spot. "Don't worry Spawn, I'll be over real soon! Save a spot for me! I always like good seats for Armageddon!"

Before Spawn could make a witty reply or use his powers to save himself, the necroplasm typhoon got its grip on him, and now Spawn was floating in darkness...

Spawn awakened when his body thunked painfully with the floor. His symbiotic suit acted on its own and shoved him to his feet, so he may be better prepared with his new surroundings. And boy were they really new surroundings.

Two... horses, he guessed, were having a... it seemed to be a tea party, right in front of him. One of them was sparkly white, having what appeared to be multicolored spectral hair that flowed in some nonexistent breeze. The other one had a sapphire blue coat and hair matching the other one in appearance, except for the fact it was blue and had a bunch of sparkles in it. And to top it off, they both had crowns and jewelry on, along with horns and wings. And for some reason... butt tattoos.

"What pit of Hell did I just wind up in?" Spawn asked himself as he examined his surroundings. Marble floor, high ceiling, fancy windows casting bright sunshine in the room. Fancy digs for sure, so maybe a castle. He returned his attention to the horses... thingies, both of who were slack jawed with their eyeballs nearly popping staring at him.

Then, the white one, uttered, "What are you? And how can you talk?"

"Holly crap, they can talk," Spawn noted, these horses getting stranger and stranger every minute. But before he could make another observation the green tornado that sent him here in the first place appeared out of thin air once again, chucking out the three demons from before. Each of the titan sized monstrosities filled the room with their vile sight, both of the horses now screaming in clearly girlish voices.

Cracking his knuckles in preparation, Spawn drew out his M-60 in his right hand and transformed his left into a hammer. "Okay, guess this is the pit filled with talking, colorful horses and roid-rage demons. My type of Hell!"

Chapter 4: Ghosts Are Real

"Isn't this a wonderful way to spend a Saturday night?" Ghost Rider asked the current criminal he was duking it out with, ending his question with a fist to his ugly mug. The guy went flying, but gravity, the cruel bitch that she is, decided to end his momentary flight and bring him tumbling to the ground.

Grinning a smile that couldn't really be seen past the flaming skull that he called a head, he cracked his fiery knuckles. "Okay, who else wants a crack at this?" The dark alleyway only had about four goons left, the rest knocked unconscious or wishing they were. "Cause I'm real tired of all these late night liquor store robberies. Seriously, you guys can't rob a bank or something? At least set your sights high when doing crime."

The four criminals looked between themselves, one half having shat their pants a few minutes ago when Ghost Rider appeared and the other half already nearly there. That usually happened when a flaming skeleton dressed like a biker appears out of no where and beats the ever living crap out of you just when you are about to commit a robbery. And by the look of the others who tried fighting the walking Halloween costume, it won't end well.

"Eat lead, bitch!" one especially idiotic thug yelled, ignoring his previous cohort's failures and brandishing a glock at Ghost Rider. With a loud bang and slight recoil the bullet struck the flaming menace, only for said menace to calmly walk closer to the four with no indication of an injury. Firing blindly into the quickly approaching threat, the flaming skull only opened its exposed jaw and laughed.

"You guys are really this stupid? I am a skeleton. That's on fire! Bullets can't do a damn thing to me!" And to prove his point, in an instant he was upon the criminal shooting at him and pressed his boney finger in the gun's barrel, the next trigger pull detonating the firearm and partially exploding off the criminal's hand. Crying in pain, the thug fell to the ground clutching his ruined appendage. Ghost Rider just walked past him without another word.

"One down, three more to go. Your odds are slipping," Ghost Rider joked, the goons now backing up from their doom. The sound of his biker boots striking on the concrete was eerily similar to the bells of death as he nonchalantly made his way over. One thug made a run for it, followed by his cohort. It didn't end well for them.

In a flash of hellfire a chain materialized from Ghost Rider's palm, the demonic chain shooting forward in an instant and wrapping itself on one of the legs of the goons. With a flick of his wrist the biker dressed vigilante brought the chain up, along with the thug, who was now being held in midair by the chain. Swinging his arm to the side, Ghost Rider slammed the thug against his buddy, the pair of idiotic criminals crashing painfully into the brick wall. Both moaned and cried from the pain of several broken bones and bruises, as one laid atop the other in an inappropriate position. Ghost Rider would've found it funny, if he didn't already have one last criminal to deal with.

A thin slob dressed in hipster drags. Weird ass sunglasses, long hair, beanie hat, and clothes that should have 'Hot Topic' printed right on them. Yeah, Ghost Rider was definitely going to enjoy beating his ass. "Any last words, punk?" he growled, the hellfire surrounding his exposed skull upping in the blazing department in anticipation for the approaching curb stomp.

"Look man, I just wanted to get some booze and humans for a quick meal before I headed out. Sick party happening out of world, so I wanted to stock up in snacks before the big trip," the punk said, holding his hands up in surrender as he slowly retreated from Ghost Rider.

"Using mortals and alcohol as snacks? What type of party are you going to?" Ghost Rider asked.

"A real fun one. Better than anything in Hell," he replied, snickering a little. "I'll be sure to send you a card from Satan himself."

"You can save your card, because I'll shove it down your throat when I'm done with you," he snarled, his empty eye sockets glowing a bright red for a moment.

The punk only smiled, his grin filled with razor sharp teeth. "Satan won't be happy when he hears that," he chortled, removing the beanie hat from his head, revealing two small devil horns.

Without missing a beat Ghost Rider materialized a hellfire shotgun using his demonic powers, the gun going off with a boom as pure hell burst from its barrel right at the demon hipster. The demon was knocked off his feet and blasted down the alleyway, his momentum ending with a brick wall that he pulverized on impact. "You can tell Satan to kiss my bony, flammable ass!" Ghost Rider yelled down the alley, his saunter still controlled and calm as he reloaded another slug of hellfire in the shotgun. It was more to look cool than actually doing anything to reload the shotgun since it had unlimited ammo from his powers, but damn was it effective in intimidating an opponent.

From the rubble appeared a blood red arm, bulging in unnatural muscles. This was closely followed by another large limb as the now twelve foot demon pulled himself from the ruins of the wall. His hipster drags were ripped beyond repair, and his face now resembled that of a dog than a human. His upper torso was twice as big as his legs, which look like they could barely support him at the moment. And now his arms more closely resembled tree trunks that have been injected with super steroids. But he still had those comically tiny horns on his even smaller dog head.

"What was that bout kissing your ass? Because when I remove your skull, that's exactly what I'm gonna make you do to it," the roid rage demon growled, his comically tiny head with its razor sharp fangs dripping acidic drool.

"Well, this certainly made things interesting," Ghost Rider said to himself, smiling a smug grin, yet not being able to be seen because of the fact a flaming skull doesn't have that wide arrange of human expressions to show. And before the epic battle could begin, a small flame appeared between the two demonic fighters.

"What the- I didn't summon any hellfire," Ghost Rider said angrily, just as the flame grew larger and larger, spinning like a top. It increased in volume, the flickering flame now becoming an raging inferno as it sucked in everything with its increased gravity. It grew larger and larger, until it threatened to engulf the entire alleyway.

The demon Ghost Rider was about to fight only gave a whoop of joy and cannonballed in the hellfire, seeming to get disintegrated before shouting out, "Time to bust some skulls!"

Ghost Rider dug his heels into the concrete beneath him, but the pull of the hellhole inferno was too strong. Trying to materialize chains to keep himself anchored in place only caused them to disintegrate in an instant. He couldn't even summon his bike to ride out of the problem. Finally, he was swept off his feet into the blazing hellfire of the tornado, pissed beyond belief he got sucked into some type of hell-portal. This was probably the third time this month that's happened to him.

Once your body is already on fire constantly, being knocked around a bit in a spinning death-trip of flames gets boring after a while. After a couple more minutes of insufferable heat and pain that would've cooked a human crispy on the edge of burned, Ghost Rider was finally released from the portal's grasp. And like a true stuntman, he made a big appearance.

Entering out of the portal caused an explosion to go off, flames shooting dramatically in the air as the earth shook. The sight would've brought a tear to Michael Bay's eye. Soon the dust began to clear, but Ghost Rider just stood there with his arms folded over his chest, a badass pose if ever there was one.

"Well then, nice flames," a voice spoke from off to the side. Ghost Rider turned to the speaker, a tall demon of red with cut horns, wearing a trench coat and currently equipped with a large, red stone gauntlet on his right arm. A red fury appeared in the Ghost Rider's empty sockets. It must be the demon from before. Sure, he didn't have the canine face or disfigured body proportions, but he could be a shapeshifter.

He leaped at the demon and brought his fist to his vile face, the impact knocking Satan's henchman deep into the earth as he tumbled away, a mound dirt collecting behind him. "Fool! Do you think you can mess with the likes of me?! Prepare to suffer the sting of Ghost Rider's power! Prepare to know the true meaning of hell!" he yelled, flames leaping off his body as he charged at the demon on the ground.

"Hey Twilight, something weird is going on near the Everfree Forest," Spike noted, the small dragon standing on his tippy toes as he struggled to get a better glimpse of what he was talking about.

"Spike, it's the Everfree Forest. Weird things go on there all the time," Twilight pointed out, still walking ahead. She was following her daily list of chores, and right now was the time for shopping for groceries and new supplies for the library. And she wasn't about to let her over curious assistant pull her off track.

"But Twilight, there was a huge explosion! And now flames are all over the place!" Spike shouted, the red tint in the sky and smoke appearing overhead a clear sign he was speaking the truth.

Twilight turned and also noticed the first indicator of a blaze. "Oh no, a fire must have broken out at the forest," she said to herself, her mind racing to find a solution to the problem. "Quickly, we need to get everypony evacuated from the area! Then we need to get as many pegasi as possible to bring in storm clouds to put out the-"

Her sentence was cut off when another explosion, much like the first, detonated near them. Both unicorn and dragon went flying in the air and met a painful reunion with the ground as dust and dirt scattered everywhere from blast zone. And from the dust and smoke stood someone of towering height. With footsteps that made the ground tremble emerged a crimson demon of such hideous nature that Lovecraft himself would've puked at his retched look. His tiny canine head on his monstrously big and bulky body was a sight no human or pony should see in their lifetime.

Noting the pony and dragon shaking in terror on the ground, the demon growled in pleasure. "Looks like I just found me some snacks..."