Summary: Matthew Williams was the best kind of kid out there; never missed a day of school, volunteered for community service constantly, and always offered a shoulder to cry on without expecting any kind of payment back. When he's home alone and the house is lit on fire by his brother's crazy ex-girlfriend, he dies. No one expected him to end up in Hell. No one could have ever guessed what he become there.


He always thought when he died it wouldn't be in pain. He thought it die when he was of old age, ready to accept death with ease. He was told about how billions of people had died before; disease, rape then killed, tortured than killed, suffocated, drowned, skinned, burned...Oh, the list seemed to go on and on. The number of ways one could die was truly endless. Despite all those numbers of possibilities, it never crossed through his mind he would be burned alive. Maybe disease when he was old, or killed when walking down the street, but never did he think he would die in such pain.

It felt like his skin was being peeled off and acid was being rubbed into his raw flesh. After what felt like forever of the flames surrounding his body, he began to hear screams and dry sobs. Pleads for him to come back, not to die...Alas, by the then he couldn't really comprehend what they were saying other than the fact that death seemed so much better than what he was feeling now. The pain had dulled, sure, but it still hurt so much. He begged for death, he could feel his tears running down his cheeks, he continued to sob and beg to be killed. No one answered his call. For days he was forced to feel the pain, until finally it ended.

While dying was painful, death itself was kind. The pain was gone and he could think so much more easier than he ever had before. A soothing voice called out gently for him, and soft hands were carrying him away from the feeling of hardship and pain. He smiled gratefully, somehow knowing he never feel any pain ever again. It was such a nice thought, and he whispered 'Thank you's' to the hands carrying him. Sadly, this feeling didn't last forever and he found himself being taken away from the soothing voice and the kind, gentle hands.

He had been pulled harshly from that happy feeling, and he felt as though he was being dragged a cold, hard surface. It didn't hurt, but it didn't feel good either...He felt nothing, as he was dragged. He clawed desperately at the hard surface to try to pull his way back to the caring hands, but whoever was dragging him tugged him harder and harder and he couldn't fight it. He was too weak to be able to do so. As he was being dragged, he could actually think then and he remembered everything in his life.

His parents, George and Martha, who loved him even though they often forgot about him. His brother, Alfred, who would ask him for help and always come to him for advice before anyone else. Mr. and Mrs. Bateson on Red Avenue, who would give him chocolate chip cookies and pie every Sunday after church. Father Smith who would talk to him whenever he needed to talk, whether it was Sunday or not. Lovino who cursed more than a sailor, but was so broken inside and clung onto Matthew to keep him sane...He felt himself tear up as he thought about them.

He remembered who he was clearly then; Matthew Williams. Seventeen years old. Senior at Jonestown High School. The kid who got a perfect score on his SAT exam, and the one who had been scouted by University of Wisconsin to be put into their Genetics courses. Blond hair, oddly violet eyes, fair skin, tall but with a small build. Born somewhere in Quebec while he parents were on vacation, and had Canadian citizenship. The star player on the ice hockey team. He had hoped to move to Canada after he got his degree in Genetics...

With that in mind, he was able to push open his eyes and breath in cool air.

Matthew could only see darkness, and he realized he was no longer being dragged. Confused, he slowly began to stand up...

"Hello? Is anyone there? Where am I?" He questions the lonely, empty air around him. What was he even standing on? "Am...Am I dead?"

"Indeed you are, young Williams."

He twisted around and his eyes widened at the sight of the male in front of him.

Standing at 5'9, with straw blond hair and lime green eyes was a human-looking man with a sickly smile. Despite his appearance, something told Matthew he wasn't human.

"Who are you?" Matthew questions.

"I am Arthur Kirkland. Ex-Archangel, warlock, Fallen...Demon." He smirks. "Can you guess where you are?"

Matthew gulps. His throat is painfully dry. "I'm...I'm in Hell, aren't I?" He asks fearfully.

"Yes, you are, Williams." Arthur chuckles. "Welcome to Hell! I do hope you have a fun time here~!"


I doubt I will ever continue this, but I felt the need to post the prologue of a story I had attempted to perform...

Since I won't be continuing it I'll be marking this as completed, but if I do I'll mark it as 'In Progress' so that anyone reading shall know...Plus I'll edit these notes for you to know.

Thanks for bothering to read anyway ^^