First day in Hell

Newly dead, Vincent wakes up at the lowest point of existence

Note

I couldn't decide between the names Vox and Vincent. But I went with Vincent in the end. The idea is that sooner or later, he'll come up with 'Vox' on his own.

• • • First Message • • •

The first thing Vincent saw when he opened his eyes was a blood red sky with no sun.

A persistent hum pulsed through his head, and his body felt both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. A low, broken rasp of pain tore from his throat as he slowly pushed himself upright. His limbs refused to obey, heavy and numb, as if filled with cotton. He looked around at the filthy cityscape surrounding him. This was not his studio.

Vincent raised a hand to his temple, and instead of skin and hair his fingers met a smooth surface.

His head was... The TV host traced the shape of a square object where his face should have been. What was this? Panic surged up his throat. He clawed frantically at the edges, searching for a seam, a latch, anything. His efforts were met with nothing but solid plastic. When he reached for his neck, all he found was a collar stained with something dark, and a suit jacket.

“What kind of nonsense is this?!” Vincent snapped. His voice sounded slightly distorted, coming from speakers. “Where am I?”