Verosika tried to seduce anon but fail part 3

from /hhg/ Hazbin Hotel general #635 and #650
-------------
"Okay plan C everybody!"
>"He fucking called me a roastie!"
"Now now Loony, he obviously didn't mean it!"
>"I'm gonna fucking kick his ass!"
"Well fancy that, that's plan C! Neat him til he passes out!"
>Moxxie speaks up
>"Sir that could accidentally kill him."
"Oh shut up Mr.Micropenis, just kidding I've seen it; it's great. We shot that fuckin kid that one time and broght him to hell just fine!"
>"He was hooked up to life support!"
"Eh life support shmife shupport. Alright bitches let's kiss some ass!"
>"KICK! KICK SOME ASS SIR!"
>Be anon
>Get the overwhelming urge to lock your doors and windows
>Do so
>Hear someone yelling and then a loid thud at your front door
>"FUCK he locked it! God damnit that fucking hurts! Moxxie is my nose bleeding?"
>Fuck that
>Anon starts heading to the back door after grabbing a frying pan of all things for self defense
>Anon gets cut off by the goth chick he ACCIDENTALLY called a roastie
>"Going somewhere limp di-"
>Pan.sfx.tf2
>She falls to the ground unconscious
>"The fuck was that? It came from the other side of the house! Get that fucker!"
>FUCK
-
>Anon runs past the now knocked out goth and through his backyard
>He hears a southern belle voice
>"Spotted him!"
>FUCK FUCK FUCK
>Anon hears rapid footsteps
>He then feels a weight impact him from behind, knocking him to the ground
>An arm wraps around his neck as well as some odd appendage
>Anon panics as his lungs burn through their oxygen supply, his heartbeat and adrenaline rush making it worse
>The small arm around his neck is deceptively strong and takes both arms to pry off
>But anon can only focus on the arm or the thing wrapped around his neck at one rime
>The arm goes around his neck right after he loosens the thing and vice versa
>Anon lets out a few pathetic noises as he's choked out
>"Shhshhshh just let go, just go to sleep."
'That sounds nice...'
-
>Blitzo walks over carrying a snoring Loona over his shoulder
>Or at least trying to, he's dragging her head on the ground a bit
"Alright get some zip ties on him or something! Easiest 10 thousand I've ever made!"
>Moxxie speaks up
>"Sir you didn't bring anything to tie him up wi- HEY!"
>Blitzo ripped Moxxies shirt off and tore it to pieces
"And there we go! Tada, rope!"
>Blitzo whistles a tune as he ties up Anon and opens a portal back to Hell
"Now let's get payed!"
---------------------------
>Be Anon
>Find that goth chick you bumbled the bucatini over earlier skulking around in your yard with obvious ill intent
>Club her with a frying pan
>The shock hurt your hands. Probably left a dent too. So much for french toast tomorrow morning
>Get choked out by one of her unseen allies, with a local-yokel accent that makes the Beverly Hillbillies sound refined
>Awaken in....

>Oh fuck

>Oh fuck yourself sideways with an old jackhammer

>You awaken in HELL

>You can tell its hell because in addition to all the furniture in here being made out of bones and teeth and having eyeballs on it and the fact that every breath you take whiffs of sulfur and seeing a blood red sky adorned with a giant pentagram out the window, there are also just fucking signs reading "Welcome to Hell" and whatnot everywhere
>Doom had subtler design for Hell than this

>Okay

>Okay

>Don't panic

>I SAID DON'T PANIC YOU STUPID FUCKER

>Just...

>Uh
>Shit
>You don't actually know what to do now
>Maybe pray for salvation?
-
>Alright
>How hard could this possibly be?

>Dear God
>Lord
>Uhhh savior
>Creator
>And mighty spirit
>Please
>Uhhhhhh...
>...how's about pointing out the nearest exit?

>Wait what the fuck are you doing?

>This is idiotic

>God probably can't even hear you down here in Hell
>Even if he could, why would he bother to listen?
>That'd be like picking up a phone call from a number you don't recognize with an area code from out of state
>Anyone with half a lick of sense would assume its a spam call
>No one is Heaven is going to listen to prayers coming out of Hell
-
>You hear a door open behind you as you're gawking at the Vegas-meets-LA-meets-The-Lower-East-Side-Circa-1974 skyline

>PLEASE DEAR LORD SWEET FATHER MYSTICAL MORGAN FREEMAN WHOEVER THE FUCK IS UP THERE YOU'RE SORRY ABOUT WEARING MIXED FIBERS AND NOT KILLING ENOUGH AMALEKITES BUT PLEASE DON'T LET ANY DEMONS GRIND YOUR BONES TO MAKE THEIR BREAD

>You don't even bother to look at the intruder
>Well, technically, they're not the intruder, you are, seeing as you're a living human standing here in the afterlife
>Either way, their presence in the room is frightening and unwelcome
>Running on pure moronic instinct, you snatch up the heaviest thing you can lay your hands on and prepare to swing it about in a most foolish and untrained fashion

>The little creature stares at you, with a look on his face that leaves you wondering if it's you or him who's dumber than a sack of hammers
>He's unmistakably a demon, checking all the boxes you could expect

>Neon-red from head to toe
>Large, pointed horns
>Cloven hooves sitting at the end of animal legs
>A long, muscular tail ending in a point like the spade on a playing card

>Yup

>No doubt

>You're in Hell

>Great job buddy

>You're not even dead yet and you're already in the lake of fire

>You massive fuckup