+22: The Devil In I - Slipknot

Request from @--GeneticMutation-

I think this is probably my first one shot that is really fantasy. So, yeah. ENJOY.

-

 Sherlock stood on a tall, tall platform, peering down at the world below him. It would just take one jump. That's all. One jump and he could be down there. Not that he had a choice. It was either jump down or stay on this platform for the rest of eternity.

Sighing, Sherlock stood and brushed down his suit. One thing he'd discovered so far about the afterlife - well, one thing he'd discovered and disliked so far - was the fact that if you died by a wound of some kind, it stayed. Well, his did. The bullet hole in the centre of his forehead didn't hurt but it also didn't show signs of healing. He hoped it would fade but he had a strong feeling that it wouldn't.

Before jumping, Sherlock peers up at the gaping hole above him where bodies were falling from. The hole was something of a purple vortex that spat the bodies out, rather than let them fall. He'd came from there and fully understood the screams of the people falling. One moment, a bullet had been soaring towards him and the next he was falling towards a pit of fire.

Briefly, Sherlock wondered if there was somewhere he could go to find out if John had gotten away. He did feel a little guilty - which was stupid because he didn't choose for that idiot to shoot him in the head.

Brushing away the thoughts, Sherlock jumps off the platform. It was a long way down but he managed to roll as he landed, lessening the impact. As he landed, another question came to him. Could he die down here?

Shrugging off the question, Sherlock presses on. He walks past many people. Some look healthy, others look scared and some are smiling and laughing with the people they walked along with. The path was small and narrow. It was almost like a bridge. The heat from the raging fire below was intense and Sherlock found himself removing his blazer and folding it over his arm. It was then he noticed many people walking around in little clothing. The men simply wore shorts and the women a crop top and shorts - or in some cases the women were just wearing shorts.

There were few children, Sherlock noted. He saw one or two, maybe.

Eventually, Sherlock reaches a section were the bridge expands and became more solid. The surface of the bridge and other places that people walked was some kind of brown stone that Sherlock didn't recognise.

 The heat was less intense in the open area but still obvious. Sherlock was beginning to sweat.

The wall to his side was covered in chains.. and the chains covered people. As he stops and observes the wall, a man carrying a long sword that emitted a red glow dragged a screaming woman towards the wall by her hair. He pinned her up against the wall - which Sherlock now noticed was moving, almost as if breathing. The man holds the distraught woman by her neck now and plunges his hand into the wall, yanking a chain from somewhere and dragging it across the woman's waist. The wall swallows the chain and locks the now sobbing woman in place. A few more chains are dragged over her before the man walks away.

She screamed and begged for help, much like many others were doing. No one showed any compassion.

Sherlock continues on his way. As he took a closer look at the people around him, he realised that a number of people carried the long, glowing swords. They all looked aggressive and as if they would snap the neck of someone who tried to talk to them but they were approached and talked to by various people. They seemed to give directions.

Deciding to just explore the place for himself, Sherlock continues to follow the path. He walks down the pathway that seems to be exclusively for the walls with chains. The path became narrow again and on etheir side of him the walls were covered in chained up people. It was interesting. Was this the punishment for breaking whatever rules there are down here?

Sherlock stops and looks back, wondering if he was able to talk to the chained people. No one else seemed to be but as long as he didn't free them, there shouldn't be a reason for him to be given the same punishment. He hoped.

He looks to the closest person chained up that isn't sobbing. It's a man. His face is pale and drawn. His eyes are closed and if it weren't for the movement of his chest, Sherlock might have thought him dead.

"Why are you chained here?" Sherlock asks.

Slowly, the man blinked open his eyes. He's given up, that fact is clear.

"Oh, there are different reasons..." He replies in a hoarse, far away voice. He didn't look at Sherlock directly and seemed only slightly aware of where he was and what he was saying. He reminded Sherlock of a junkie that had taken too much in one go.

"Such as?"

"Disobeying an order given to you by an officer... Annoying an officer... Sometimes, when your sins are too great, they simply chain you up - or they make you an officer... All depends on the mood he is in."

Sherlock makes a vague sound of acknowledgement before asking "Do you remain here forever once chained up?"

"Depends..." replies the man, his eyes closing and his head lulling to one side.

Knowing he wasn't going to get much more from the man, Sherlock continues his way down the path.

*

Two weeks later and Sherlock had met the devil, been made an officer and was well known among the others. The officers ranged widely. Some were simply aggression and muscle, some were intelligent and cunning. Some were soft-hearted and kind, some were horrid and nasty. Sherlock had no idea why he'd been made an officer but apparently the devil saw something in him.

He won't lie, the devil scared the hell out of him. He, and Sherlock uses 'he' loosely as the creature technically had no sex, was a large creature that was able to shape shift. His skin was sliver and looked like amour but glowed an ominous red much like the sword he presented Sherlock with. His eyes were blood red and nothing like Sherlock had seen before - they indescribable and easily the most terrifying part of him.

Today, Sherlock waited at his usual post. He'd been informed that the devil's right hand man was coming to visit him, to give him some new orders. Sherlock hadn't met the devil's right hand man yet and while the idea of taking orders from someone was less than appealing to Sherlock, he accepted that he had to if he didn't want to end up like those screaming, tortured souls that were chained on the wall. The chains, as Sherlock had found out, burned those they kept captive and the wall, which was alive, slowly fed off the skin of those on the wall.

His wound, as Sherlock expected, hadn't faded and he'd been shown many scars from the other officers. That was one almost consistent factor of the officers, all of them had died in some kind of fight or had been killed. Sherlock would have been proud of the wound had he not received it on such a petty case from such a petty man. He hoped that John had brutally avenged him.

He hadn't been given word on John. The only one able to see what went on outside of the underworld was the devil and Sherlock wasn't in a rush to owe him a favour.

Sherlock is brought out of his thought as a woman approaches him. She was tall, perhaps a bit taller than him, and had long black hair that was dyed blood red at the tips. Her nails were also painted blood red and she had make-up to match. She wore a simple little black dress and walked confidently in her heels.

When she was able to see him properly, however, she paused. As if she recognised him. That made Sherlock frown. Who was this woman?

"Sherlock?" She questions in a soft Irish lit, smirking as she continued to make her way towards him.

"Yes?" He replies.

Suddenly, she laughs. "Well. This is unexpected."

"Who are you?"

"You were informed I was coming to see you. Did you not listen?"

Sherlock's eye widen as he realises who stood before him. He bows slightly. "Apologies, I was expecting a male-"

Sherlock freezes when he raises. The woman had disappeared in the time it took for him to bow and in her place stood Jim Moriarty. Sherlock mind raced, trying to come up with a possible explanation. Jim looked as normal as ever and wore the same grey suit he wore to court during the case involving him stealing the crown jewels.

It was fair to say that Sherlock was confused. Very confused.

"Hello, James." Sherlock greets, nodding slightly.

"I've got your new orders" Jim smirks, laughing again.

Sherlock blinks and his mind pieces together everything so it makes sense. "You can shape shift"

"Only between this form and the female" Jim shrugs. "Few know. Makes it easy to get around and to gain the trust of people."

"I'm assuming this is the form that most don't realise is the right hand man of the devil, then"

Jim shrugs once again before he holds his hand out, as if preparing to shake Sherlock's hand. That causes Sherlock to raise  an eyebrow. Why was James offering his hand?

"You said you'd shake hands with me in hell. You're not going to disappoint, are you?" Jim hums, eyes locked on to Sherlock's own.

Sherlock smiles at that, chuckling softly as he takes Jim's hand in his and shakes.

*

Jim, as it turned out, was actually on very good terms with the beast that was the devil. After they'd shook hands, Jim had taken Sherlock to the throne room type place were the devil was and explained to the devil who exactly Sherlock was. To Sherlock's surprise, the devil had laughed and told him that he knew, and was just waiting for them to find one another. Then, the devil had shown Sherlock what John was up to. The man had mourned again but bounced back faster than before, adapting to his role as a father easily.He'd also beat the man Sherlock was killed by half to death in a fit of rage, but Mycroft has gotten John out of all the charges.

After, Sherlock was promoted in a way. He was given the same level of authority as Jim and rewarded with the ability to shift into one other form. He choose a eight year old boy as he'd often seen the way people reacted to seeing a child among them. They trusted the children without batting an eyelid. Jim approved of the choice before showing Sherlock to his new lodgings.

As an officer, you got a small room. As another person in hell, you got nothing. As one of the right hand men of the devil, Sherlock received the highest quality of rooms available (besides where ever the devil himself slept). Jim's room was next to his and Sherlock found that his afterlife was now much easier.

The way he and Jim seemed to have become friends was also odd. They'd become a team without Sherlock fully realising until they had been so for almost two weeks.

He worried less now, too. It was easy to stick to the 'rules' when none applied to you.

*

"How'd it go?" Jim questions, bouncing down on Sherlock's bed. He was sat incredibly close to the other but Sherlock was used to that by now.

Unsure as to what he was talking about, Sherlock places his book down and raises an eyebrow. "How did what go?"

"You chained someone for the first time today"

As Jim speaks the words, Sherlock becomes aware of how true they are. He had chained someone for the first time today. He didn't even think about it at the time. All he'd felt was rage as he pulled the brute off the young woman and forcefully pushed him into the wall, smirking as he began to scream more so than the woman he'd attacked had.

"I don't care if we're in hell or not, it will never be right to go around raping young girls" Sherlock shakes his head. "He deserves to be slowly eaten alive"

Jim giggles and falls back on the large bed, spread his arms out and stretching. "Still on the side of the angels"

"But not one of them" Sherlock replies, kicking off his shoes before he lays back as well, turning his head to face Jim.

Jim just gives him a smile at those words before he looks up to the ceiling. Then, he closes his eyes and relaxes further into the soft mattress. Suddenly, he opens his eyes and rolls with another high pitched giggle. Sherlock was constantly surprised at Jim's playful nature. However, what surprised him more at the moment was how Jim had rolled so he was now hovering over Sherlock in a way that could only be considered sexual. He had one leg on either side of Sherlock's hips and a hand either side of Sherlock's face, pressing his whole body close to Sherlock's own.

Sherlock raises an eyebrow. "What are you doing, Jim?"

"I think you can deduce that for yourself" Jim laughs again.

Sherlock doesn't say anything else, just peers up at Jim and waits to see what happens.

Jim leans down and presses a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. "You're not what you seem, are you? It's so easy to think you're an angel"

"If I were an angel, I'd not sit on the right hand side of the devil" Sherlock replies, eyes closed as he registers how Jim's lips were less than an inch away from his.

Jim places his kiss on more of Sherlock's mouth this time but still doesn't cover it completely. "True"

Sherlock just hums as a reply. Jim giggles again before he kisses Sherlock properly.

Sherlock's not sure how long they spend kissing but when they do fully pull apart, they're both panting and gulping down mouthfuls of air. Jim rolls off Sherlock, but lays closer than before, his hand linking with Sherlock's own. Neither say anything for some time and when Sherlock does think of something to say and sits up, he realises that Jim has fallen asleep.

Leaving the man to sleep, Sherlock puts his shoes on and heads out for his shift of bringing in the new damned souls for the devil to inspect.