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Fredrick’s version of Hell was far more cryptic than the Hell he was given. He assumed that this place was more of a purgatory until his eventual descent into the fiery depths, but he wasn’t one to complain. If anything, this place was oddly comforting if you ignored the strange abstract cartoon-like body he was put in.
He hadn’t been outside of what he can only assume is a concession stand, considering the now somewhat rusted sign at the front with the words “Bub’s Concession Stand.” Whoever that was. Today was different, however, probably because he needed to air out the cigar smoke smell that he had cooped up in that small room.
It took a few wiggles of the already loose doorknob for the door in the back to finally swing open, creaking pathetically on its hinges as Fredrick stepped out of the building. His eyes flutter as they adjust to the brightness of the sun outside as he rubbed one of them with a nub-like hand. He honestly didn’t mind the sunniness that much, but it was strange that it seemed to be the only type weather this place had. Something about global warming.
He turned the corner of the shop, the blades of grass slightly scratching at his ankles. He silently wished there was a pair of shoes in that stand along with the old jacket he had found. Honestly, there probably was if he looked hard enough, considering the amount of strange doohickeys inside the place. It was like a hammerspace for unnecessary junk.
He froze as he heard footsteps other than his own, slowly pressing his back against the side of the building. There’s a voice— no, two voices that are just barely heard from the front of the building, one considerably softer than the other. He’s not sure what to do. After all, he thought he was the only person that was here.
He shifts his body to creep to the corner of the building, peeking his head out from the side as he studies the two that stood in front of the building. Somehow, he expected two normal looking human beings to be conversing, but to his surprise they were, in fact, cartoonish. One was a lanky green man with a circular white head, topped with a purple and blue backwards cap. He wore a gold belt that made him hunch over from the sheer weight of it, poor thing. The other was a slightly younger looking man that was considerably more human-like than the other. However, he wore (well, had) one of those Mexican wrestler masks. Lucha Libre, or whatever it was called, he couldn’t remember. He wore shiny black pants and clunky red boots, along with a white shirt that had “TO THE LIMIT!” scrawled on the fabric with a black marker. It was ripped at the collar, almost as if the man had struggled to fit something through it.
Probably his head, Fredrick thought. That was mean.
The one with the mask immediately spotted Fredrick from behind the brick, his blueish angular head sticking out like a sore thumb against the brownish red.
“ What?” mumbled the lankier one, then turning his head and spotting Fredrick as well. Neither of them say a word, Fredrick can’t tell if they’re terrified or surprised to see him there. Maybe they thought they were the only ones here as well.
He finally steps out from the side of the building, shoving his hands awkwardly in the pockets of the jacket he wore, mainly to keep him from crossing his arms like he usually did. He already had a resting bitch face, he didn’t want to potentially scare the two more.
“ Hey,” he started, clearing his throat slightly. “ Where did you two.. come from?”
The words lingered in the air for a moment before the one in the mask stepped forward, the surprise in his gaze clear as day.
“ We’ve been here. When did- Where did you come from?”
That was a good question, Fredrick wasn’t exactly sure. If he could remember, it had been about three days since he last appeared here. Three sleeps, for better measure.
“ I’ve been in this place for a couple of days. I just assumed that I was the only one here.” He paused, taking a small glance at the lanky one, who averted his eyes upon making eye contact. “ Guess I was wrong.”
The one in the mask offered a gloved hand and Fredrick shook it out of common courtesy. At least to the best of his ability, that is, considering he was still getting used to the nubs.
“ I’m Julien, this is Ian. We and the others have been here for.. uh, a while now, to say the least.” He stares at Fredrick for a moment before piping up again. “ This is a weird question, but.. uh, what.. year was it? When you came here at least.”
“ 2017.” He replied after a moment of thought.
He watched the life drain out of Julien’s face upon hearing the date, immediately regretting even stepping foot out of the concession stand. He didn’t dare to look at Ian’s expression either.
“ Is.. something wrong?”
“ .. No, no, it’s— Just don’t worry about it.” His voice had gone down a peg or two, shaking his head as he spoke. He then made a poor attempt at a poker face to try and save the situation, fixing the ripped collar of his t-shirt.
“ I should.. we should.. probably tell the others about this! I’ll go ahead and try to grab them.”
“ There’s others?”
Without waiting for Fredrick to finish, Julien had already begun beelining to wherever the ‘others’ that he had mentioned, not bothering to take a look to even check if the other two were following.
Fredrick finally glanced over to Ian, who was awkwardly watching Julien stride away into the distance. It’s here that he just assumes Ian’s face constantly looks like a sopping wet puppy. That was mean again.
“ He’s been here for a while.” Ian mumbled. Fredrick almost jumped out of his skin once he heard him speak. He had assumed the guy wasn’t one to talk much.
“ .. Really?”
“ He told me since.. the 2000s, if I remember correctly.” Ian didn’t move his head at all as he spoke, instead choosing to move the direction Julien had left in, almost silently directing Fredrick to follow him.
Which he did.
“ You’re kidding me.”
Ian shook his head, slightly lifting the belt around his waist in an attempt to ease the weight of it.
“ Since you said 2017, I can only assume that I’ve been here for..” his voice wavered slightly as he swallowed back a forming lump in his throat. “ Two years.”
“ Lord.”
“ .. two years.” He repeated in disbelief, staring at the ground as he walked.
Fredrick followed right next to him, wanting to give him a pat on the shoulder or at least some sort of comforting gesture. He wasn’t the best with words and really didn’t feel like accidentally messing up what he intended to be a motivational monologue.
“ ..Well,” he finally spoke up, his heart jumping slightly as Ian turned his head to look at him. He immediately broke eye contact with him, almost subconsciously knowing that Ian would have done the same. “ I guess this place isn’t all too bad, I mean, before we all.. y’know.”
Ian stopped in his tracks and stared. Fredrick turned his head to finally meet his eyes and noticed the confusion on the others' face.
“ Before we.. what?” He mumbled.
“ You- You know,” Fredrick stuttered. “ Before we go.. to..”
He motions feebly to the ground, shame creeping up his spine as he watches the confusion on Ian’s face grow bolder.
“ You think we’re going to Hell?”
.. He nodded.
“ No, no.. we.. this isn’t..”
Ian’s voice trailed off as he shook his head, starting back on the trail towards Julien again. There was a house in the distance, maybe a good couple hundred feet away.
Fredrick was confused now. This entire time he had thought that maybe this was a strange purgatory before he’d be sent to eternal damnation for all that stupid business he’d gotten himself into when he was young, not to mention the obvious about himself. ‘God made you a woman for a reason.’ His mom would say.
They finally approached the front door of the house, Ian’s hand hesitated over the doorknob before glancing at Fredrick again. Just.. without the eyes.
“ Julien can.. explain this whole thing better.” He mumbled.
Finally, with a singular motion, Ian opened the door, holding it open for Fredrick as the two headed inside.