Please note this is a guest entry.

As promised, here's chapter 3, matching HG chapter 3.

Hell Girl-1 chapter 3:

April’s eyelids scratched against the muddy ground when she opened her eyes, and the stabbing pain from her shattered leg returned. Unconsciousness had been a bliss, even in the fangs of the demon.

She pushed herself up, but grit her teeth in pain. Moving her leg was out of the question.

“Looking pretty banged up there.” A male said from the other corner of the small cage, barely able to hold two people.

“Urf. Where am I? What is this?”

“One thing at a time.” The man said. “You got caught. That’s bad.”

“Why?”

His eyes pierced April, like spears. “I said one thing at a time, are you deaf?” He stood up halfway, unable to fully stand due to the low height of the cage. “You’ve come to the outer ring of the seventh circle. Here, those who do violence upon another arrive.”

“But I ne--”

The remarkably thin man, whose ribs were clearly visible on his chest stepped closer. “Spare me. I’m not a heavenly judge. I’m not here to help and guide you, to hold your hand.”

“Then why are you here?” April said, edging towards the back of the cage.

He took a deep breath. “The demon that caught you, is a nephilim, an ancient race from before the first destruction of the world. Wingless fallen angels.”

“What? Why’re--”

He sqatted down, putting his face inches from April’s. “Silence! Are you daft?” his hand came to rest on her shoulder. “I’ll get to the point. The nephilims thrive on pain. It is their lifeblood, their power, nay, it’s the gears of their power.”

April put her hands in front of her chest, pressing her back against the back of the cage. Her voice shook, as she spoke. “W-What do you want? Stay back.”

Smack.

April’s cheek glowed red from the impact of the flat hand. Her one hand darted to the holster on her hip.

“It’s useless. You’ve been disarmed. We’ve got two options.” He said, lifting a fist. “Either, I torture you… Or they…” He stretched out a finger, pointing into a wall. “Torture both of us.”

His finger clenched, and the fist shot towards April’s broken leg.

Thump

She winched in pain and her face twisted, not in pain, but in anger.

Her clenched fist shot towards his jaw, knocking his entire body into the cage.

“Ow, what do they feed you these days?”

April tried to get up, but her leg stopped any movement.

The thin man approached again, April kicked violently into the air with the healthy leg. “I’ll beat you to a pulp.”

“Very well.” The man said, opening the door to the cage. “We’ve got a fighter here.” He yelled.

Moments later, a man with the upper body of a bull stared at April. “Too scrawny. Torture her. Not fighter.”

“Wait, wait.” April said. “The thin man over there is more scrawny than I.”

The minotaur put its large nose in between the bars and took a deep breath. “No. No woman fight.”

April’s hand grabbed into the nostrils of the beast. Her other hand shot like a bullet, striking between the eyes of the Minotaur.

It roared and ricocheted backwards.

“Try me, cow.” She almost spat at it.

The minotaur approached the cage and glared at her. A hoof shot into the cage, tipping it over.

April flew like a ragdoll through the cage, bouncing several times. Each time, the tears in her eyes grew larger as her leg flapped around like a broken wing, but her mouth was forced shut.

The minotaur grunted. “Put her with the forlorn hope.”

“Very well.” The thin man bowed.

He marched over to the tipped cage. “Hope you can walk with that leg, you’re going to fight tomorrow.”

April bit her lip.

“I’ll get your team. Perhaps they’ll carry you. Good luck not getting murdered tomorrow.”

April grabbed onto the cage trying to get up. Every second felt like a man tried to hack off her leg with a dull axe. She forced her way out of the cage with the help of the bars, and came face to face with the most scrawny human being she’d ever laid eyes on. His thick glasses kept falling down his nose and his short greasy hair along with his nearly white complexion showed exactly how little physical strength he posessed.

“Saluatations, you might already be aware I’m twenty five percent of the forlorn hope.” He reached out a hand. “Oliver.”

“What. The.” April’s frown spoke for her.

“Allow me to expound. I’ve got congenital insensitivity to pain, CIG. Can’t torture me if I don’t feel a thing. Thus, I’m on the gallow squad.”

“Gallow squad?” April said, trying to wipe the disapproving from from her face.

“Forlorn hope. It’s a metaphor for ‘abandon hope all ye’ who enter here’, if you didn’t realize it yet. We’re cannon fodde--Oh god, your leg is broken.” He turned around, putting a hand in front of his eyes. “I can’t handle that... “

“Whaa--” April’s mouth was wide open, yet she couldn’t formulate a single word.

A larger man showed up behind Oliver. The muscles in his upper body showed through his shirt.

“Rob!” Oliver howled. “Thank god you’re here, her leg is broken. Do something.”

Rob pondered for a moment, before turning around. “Leave her. Not worth it. She’s dead tomorrow.”

“Wait-wait-wait,” April said. “ I can still fight.”

He shook his head. “Not with that leg.”

“You stand a better chance with me on your side. I just need a little material and time to make a gizmo. Help me, help you.” April said.

He shook his head. “Not worth the resources.”

“I was an assassin, don’t underestimate me.”

Rob started walking. “A bloody bad one. If you had killed you’d have been in the river of souls.”

“Shucks, cold as always.” Oliver said, looking back at April. “He was in a thousand fights. I guess that’s what happens when people die all around you. Personally, I just joined a week ago. Rob saved me last time, he’s the reason there’s even anyone left in the forlorn hope.”

“Do you have a sword… bolt cutter, anything like that?” April asked.

“Ah, you want the metal from the cage? There’s a weak spot, I know because I was stuck in there for so long.”

Oliver crawled onto the cage and started hammering at it with the butt of a dagger.

Clank-Clank-clank-clank.

The bars from the cage fell to the ground.

“You’d think they’d be better at welding down here.” Oliver said with a slight shrug. “Perhaps all the good welders makes the harps in heaven.”

“Harps aren’t welded…” April said.

“Oh, shesh. Can’t you take a joke at face value? Maybe they’re doing repairs to the pearly gates, what do I know about heaven?” he said with a slight smile.

“How did someone like you ever end up here?”

Oliver stopped smiling, and gave off a typical slight shrug, as if his muscles didn’t have the power to lift his shoulders fully. “Let’s get your splint made.”

“I need to be able to walk on it.” April said.

Oliver nodded. “Let’s get to work before tomorrow.