#gay hell

A billion light years away, Kirk lies dying as Spock tends to his wounds. "I love you", Kirk whispers, but his mind is already wandering. He glimpses Hell's Official waiting for him in the doorway. It's time to go.

Somewhere in America, a soldier called James Barnes, though he goes by Bucky, holds his oldest friend's hands. They are the same age, although they don't look it.

"I love you", Bucky says. Steve Rogers stares blankly ahead. Hell's Official steps from the shadows. Their time has come.

There's a small ice skating rink somewhere in Japan. Hell's Official watches the couple on the ice, their golden engagement rings glittering in the sunlight. It's them they came for, but not to take them to hell. They just like admiring someone doing it right.

Returning to the airport, the holiday over, they take the next flight to Cuba. There's one more trip they have to do.

There's a house, barely more than a shack, in a small hidden bay. No one goes there. At least, no one lives to tell the tale. Even Hell's Official has some trouble finding it.

Inside, a dark haired man is caring for two dogs sitting next to the fireplace. The tall blond European, whose hair is greying and thinning but whose face still shows that keen alertness and razor sharp mind that has always been his most valuable feature, turns around to greet the newcomer... In a way. The long sharp cooking knife buries itself into the door where Hell's Official has been standing until two seconds ago.

"You're being summoned", they tell the two men, unmoved.

Will looks up from the dogs, noticing the stranger for the first time.

"We never took part in any queerbaiting", he says.

"So to speak", the Official replies. "But this is not why you're summoned for. There have been made... Special arrangements. Come along."

Their new home in Hell is a luxurious castle, most illustriously furnished and containing a vast dining hall and perfectly equipped kitchen. There is a library and a drawing room. There is a spare room and a garden for the dogs.

"I don't understand", says Hannibal.

"You will", replies the Official.

Soon the other visitors trickle in. They know nothing of the castle. They know nothing of the men. They are the perfect prey and the perfect dinner guests.

It is then the men understand.

The have not been sent to Gay Hell.

They are the Gay Hell.

if he blocks me imma cry