Disclaimer: I do not own Welcome to Hell or any characters in this story. I'm just filling in details that were not in the short film. Enjoy!
Chapter 1: Sock
It was a warm, sticky night in the dark graveyard; there a teenage boy digging holes for three corpses. He had longer, brown hair that stuck up in the front from his red pilots' hat. The hat had dull yellow goggles on top his head and stars on the ear flaps. The back of his brown hair was hidden by a purple beanie hat. His light blue t-shirt was hidden by a brown vest that hung a little too low on his waist. His red scarf drooped over his chest and knotted the two end pieces over his chest. Over top of his ripped, faded blue jeans was a purple skirt. Yes, a skirt. He didn't know why, but he always found the skirt sort of cool. His clunky brown shoes had mud and unappealing red goop on them that surprisingly matched his striped socks.
"This is Sock, he just killed his parents. In his sleep. Now, of course, most people would be, perhaps, a little shaken after having accidently sleep-murdered their parents. But Sock, was not most people. See Sock had been struggling with an overwhelming desire to kill things all his life. You could say he had some mildly homicidal tendencies. Now, what made Sock so uneasy was what he had to do next."
The grave on the right said, "Mom" the grave in the middle said, "Dad" and the one on the left had no name on it. Sock dragged his dad over to the middle grave and flung him into the pit. He filled the hole with dirt and patted it down. He looked over to the right and saw he already buried his mom. Realizing was to be done now; he walked over to the end grave and pulled out his knife. He carved an 'M' into the stone, stopped for a moment, and sighed. He continued his work and stood back to solemnly admire it.
He looked at his knife that he had since he was little. Many memories washed upon him as he opened his mouth to speak. He closed his mouth then reopened it again speaking gravely to his knife,
"Well, ol'friend. I never thought I would come at your business aid. We've had some pretty good times, I guess. I really don't know what to say to you, I mean you're a knife!" A tear ran down his cheek as he bit his lip to hold back a sob. He held his knife with both of his hands and gripped the handle so hard his knuckles turned white. He positioned himself so he was on the edge of the dirt hole and looked back up at the stars. He blinked his tears away and looked back at some trees in the distance.
He took a deep breath and breathed out his next words, "What to say what to say. Any last words? No. Any thoughts? No. I guess, I'm done." He turned his head so he was looking at his parents.
"Good-bye," he spoke quietly shutting his eyes and bracing himself. A sharp pain grew in his abdomen as his vision darkened. He winced and looked down at his belly. His knife sprouted from his stomach, staining the vest with a dark red. He looked back up again and pretended not to notice his tears that streamed down his face. His vision darkened completely as he lost his balance and fell into the hole he dug. He took his final breath and let his head fall to the side. Sock was dead.
The gravestone above him read : ME.
Well that's my story! Please comment if I should continue!
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