Damien's Hellverse

He hadn't been walking for long until he came across a hand, half buried in the sand. It's a hand sent from god, he though. The hand didn't have much going for it by way of the flesh department but it was a hand regardless. He had never really taken the time to figure out roughly how much nutritional content was in a human hand.

He stared at the hand. With a strange inclination...

Then he bit it. The hand seemed quite fragile so he took extra care not to break it. Damien's thought ran wild while he chewed.

In his imagination, she was an incredibly voluptuous woman. Quite the hedonistic type, yet only a moderate nymphomaniac.

"Fuck!" One of her nails had become lodged into his gum and all attempts to pull it out henceforth absolutely failed.

He tugged and turned and eventually, the tooth gave way. So he finished the hand off. But then it moved.

The hand had been refined to mere bone and ligaments, so it wasn't feasible that the hand would move. But it shook and then collapsed.

To his dismay, the hand was alive! This was quite the turn of events.

I couldn't really eat a living person. So he began digging.

The sand was getting into his nails, but he kept going. He was curious? Could this be a potential companion? He was going to be in hell for a long time.

So it was a girl? She wasn't the prettiest in the bunch. Damien had seen better looking but she had potential.

She let out a weak croak.

"What is your name?"

"Damien." "Thank you, Damien."

And for a while they just lay there. She probably hadn't had a breath in days based on how deep in the sand she was. It seemed as though it was going to take a while to decipher the mechanics of this world. There was still no wind. But things decay.

And the dunes change shape, size. Clearly time does pass.

There was no day or night. Just black clouds and the orb. The ornate series of clouds circled the orb , the light diluting the clouds most at the centre with the clouds getting darker the further out they got.

Some time had past, the length of which was largely unknown when Damien decided he would leave. If he left the woman, the dessert would desecrate her. So, he took it upon himself to carry her until they reached the village he had seen in the distance.

"I...I didn't tell you my name." she spoke softly.

"Well, go on then woman. Either speak or hold your tongue for you do not have energy to waste."

"My name is Porphyria."

And so, they proceeded to cross the harsh landscape that was hell.