Jonas was floating in absolute darkness, and that darkness was undisturbed until a sudden beautiful light appeared, and from within the light came a handsome man with glowing eyes and curtains of silver hair. The man wore flawless white robes and had a strange and ethereal aura about him as if he both existed and transcended existence. He stretched a slender hand and patted Jonas' head while his eyes were smiling at the boy. They contained the same happiness as if he were staring at his child. The man's hand slid to Jonas' back and as they made contact, a splendid light radiated from them.

Retracting his hand, the man in white vanished within the light he had come, but not before turning back to whisper words of encouragement in some strange and magnificent language. Jonas did not hear the voice, and as the man in white vanished from view, something else stirred in the darkness. That something opened its eyes, blinked, and it gave a wicked smile.

"Wake up, Jonas."

A voice startled Jonas from his stupor, and it was the only voice in the world that could bring him back from the void. Deep, husky, and dangerous, Drake Ariel had an iconic voice that could grab anyone's attention. Jonas Ariel opened his eyes, and he began gasping for air.

"What's happened?" he was breathless as he looked around. He clutched at his body and knew he was still alive. There was a ringing in his ears, and he felt a disturbing presence all around him. As his vision focused, he saw dark stone walls, and across the room from him was a large wrought iron door.

"Prison, perhaps," said Drake. He sat against the wall, and his face revealed an unconcerned expression.

"What happened to us?" Jonas tried to stretch his memories. He seemed to recall the sound of a tire popping, the scraping of metal, various screams, and a dream about a man of light.

"No idea," said Drake, but Jonas noticed his brother seemed evasive, as if he was holding something back. From some distant area, Jonas heard a scream coming from what sounded like a man being tortured. It was bloodcurdling, and it was as if he could hear the emotions of an unknown person who wished to be put out of their misery.

"Drake, don't bullshit me," Jonas' voice sounded unusual, "Where the fuck are we?"

"Chill," Drake said, as he turned his cold eyes to stare at his younger brother. He paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and found the energy to say, "I think… we might be in Hell," Jonas had a shiver through his spine, but part of him was still in disbelief, so he reasoned with his brother.

"How could we be in Hell, we have bodies?" Jonas pinched the skin on his slender arm.

"How do you know people don't have bodies in the afterlife?" Drake asked.

"Okay," said Jonas, whose mind was spinning, while being ever-so convinced his brother was insane. "Why would we be in Hell of all places?" he argued, "I mean, we might not have been saints, but we led decent lives, right?"

"The Old Testament was much stricter than that hippy bullshit they sell in churches these days. Hell," Drake said, "There might have even been a bible that was older than the Old Testament, with rules we never knew of," Jonas narrowed his eyes.

"Stop playing around, you're just humoring me because you don't want me to realize that something else is wrong."

"I can't lie to you, can I?" he asked, as he sighed into the cold, darkroom. "Not only are we in Hell," said Drake, "But I think we killed some kids, which would explain why we're not at the pearly gates right now."

"Killed kids?" Jonas whispered in disbelief. He wanted to tell his brother to stop speaking nonsense, but his rising anxiety and the screams from his dream seemed to tell him the god-awful truth, that he and his brother were dead and in Hell, and they had also murdered multiple children.

Jonas ran a hand through his golden blonde hair, and he noticed his hair had a layer of sweat. Remorse, anxiety, self-loathing, and fear were like various insects that took turns crawling in and out of his mouth, down his throat, and feeding on his innards. He wanted to vomit; he wanted to scream, but he just sat against the stone wall, while his face was downtrodden.

It seemed like an eternity went by before Jonas could find the words to say anything, "This isn't so bad, right?" he looked rather desperate, "We're stuck in this cage, but at least we have each other for company," his brothers' grimace was enough to tell him everything he needed to know.

"Don't play stupid, it doesn't suit you," said Drake, "We both know that our punishment doesn't include sitting in a stone cell for all of eternity. This is Hell Jonas- fucking Hell we're talking about. Fire and goddamn brimstone, red demons with pitchforks, led by the most feared monster in all of human history," he let his words sink in and watched as the horror and realization came to light in his little brother's blue eyes. "Did you think we would get to stay together Jonas; Hell isn't a place where you find happiness, it's a place to make you miserable, and to make you feel so much pain you'll wish you could die again."

"Stop making me feel worse!" Jonas growled through gritted teeth as he became angrier. The rage inside was like a wild beast, ready to be let loose.

"Calm down, idiot," said Drake, and he flicked Jonas on the forehead.

"Ouch, what was that for?"

"Stop being such a pussy," Drake mocked.

"Are you being serious right now, how can you just sit there with a smirk on your face?" Jonas stood up and began pacing the cell back and forth, "Oh yeah that's right, Mr. Bad Boy who doesn't care about anything," he said, "Mr. Cool with your fucking fighting, and your snarky attitude, and your constant bullshit!"

"Anger, or denial?" asked Drake, "I'm not sure which stage you're in right now."

"Fuck you, asshole!" Jonas yelled, "Fuck you and your stupid, ugly face!" and deep booming laughter reverberated off the walls of the prison cell as Drake began shaking, one hand clutching his stomach, the other covering his face from view.

"You think this is funny?" shouted Jonas, "Have you seen this face, I won't last two minutes in Hell!" but his words only seemed to make the laughter grow louder, "Stop laughing, do you think I want to go from the sweet warm embrace of Leeanna Narwitz to being some big horse-cocked demon's bitch?" but seeing his brother laugh was causing Jonas to have a losing battle with his creeping smile.

Drake could not answer, he just laughed harder, and Jonas could not help it, and he too began laughing. Not sure who was laughing at who, the two brothers chuckled as they held their stomachs and wailed on the floor, laughing as if they would never feel joy again, for all of eternity.

"No matter what happens," Drake was the first to stop laughing, "Don't be a pussy, understand?"

"You and your hyper-masculinity," said Jonas.

"I'm serious Jonas, this is Hell, and it will take any progressive pussy mentality you have and eat you alive."

"Oh," said Jonas, "And you know this from all your experience down here?" Drake gave a rather serious glare in response, "Fine, fine, I won't be a pussy, not that it's going to do me much good. I'm going to have a choice between burning alive, being flayed alive, or getting my hair braided by my demon daddy," he added, "I'm not sure which is worse."

"I'm not sure what to expect," Drake mumbled, "We might just be in for a wild ride."

"Oh, a feeling?" Jonas nodded, "Well that settles it then, Hell is just an enormous amusement park," he added, "Once we step outside those doors, it will be nothing but sunshine, rainbows, and cotton candy."

"Jonas," Drake ignored his pessimism, "When in Rome, do as the Romans do," and Jonas gave him a strange look.

"If everyone in Hell is murdering and raping each other?"

"Then do as the Romans do," and there was a serious look in his eyes that told Jonas his big brother was not joking.

"I won't start murdering people because of a change in scenery."

"That's not what I said," Drake shook his head, "Mind your business, and don't play the hero."

"I don't have the face to be a villain," Jonas said, "Nor the heart."

"Idiot," Drake sighed, "What am I supposed to tell you- just be yourself, or just follow your heart?"

"That doesn't sound so bad," Jonas nodded, "Maybe something about finding Jesus."

"If Jesus wanted either of us," Drake said, "I think we'd be in a much fancier cell," and then another scream echoed through their room, only this time it did not freak Jonas out.

"So, is this it?"

"Are you capable of not talking?" Drake rolled his eyes.

"Are you capable of not being a dick?" Jonas shot back.

"No," Drake conceded, "They haven't even sentenced us."

"Sentenced?" Jonas asked.

"I mean, it makes sense right," Drake shrugged his shoulders, "I doubt everyone in Hell gets the same punishment, there has to be some sort of trial."

"If you say so," and although his big brother sometimes drove him mad, Jonas had to admit that Drake's instincts about the unknown were spot on. The eldest Ariel brother smiled and closed his eyes, while Jonas sat cross-legged and began counting the stones that made up his prison.

"Aren't you being a little too casual about all of this?" Jonas asked a few moments later.

"I could say the same for you," Drake's voice sounded bored.

"Well, yeah, but how am I supposed to be scared when you're not?"

"The things we've been through, the places we've lived," Drake opened his eyes and gave a rather bland expression towards the stone walls, "This isn't even in the top five."

"You're right," Jonas gave a reminiscent smile, "The drunk fucker's house was the worst."

"Frank was indeed a piece of shit," Drake also smiled, "I thought that place was Hell when we first started living there."

"For sure," Jonas agreed, "Do you remember the time I spilled juice on the rug?"

"Oh, I remember," Drake gave a dark expression, "Frank spent the next week extinguishing cigarettes on your arm," and Jonas looked at the skin under his left bicep, and he had the shock of a lifetime as he realized the skin was flawless and had no traces of ever being tortured.

"They're gone," Jonas looked amazed as he lifted his arm to show his brother, "No scars."

"Interesting," Drake nodded as he examined himself, "I'm missing the scars on my hand."

"Psycho Sally's pit bull, right?"

"I hated that dog," Drake growled.

"I'd like to think that the dog would have turned out much nicer if a decent family had raised him."

"Us too," said Drake, "Do you remember the duplex we lived in, with what's-her-face?"

"Misses T," said Jonas, "Waking up with cockroaches and rodents crawling all over my sleeping bag still gives me nightmares."

"Me too," Drake laughed, "As I said, this little old prison doesn't crack the top five. By the way, I'm sorry."

"Sorry about what?"

"I killed us," Drake licked his lips, and it seemed like holding back his genuine feelings was torturing him, "I killed my baby brother, the one person I'm sworn to protect."

"Dude, our tire popped," Jonas rolled his eyes, "Unless you're admitting to sabotaging the car beforehand?"

"Of course not," Drake said, "But I was drunk."

"You don't get drunk," Jonas sighed, "That hunk of metal that you call a body doesn't have the ability."

"Just a freak accident," Drake murmured, and Jonas nodded in agreement. A loud sound startled the two from their conversation, and the prison door was unlocked and pushed open.