The Labyrinth

This is my disclaimer. I, in no way, own Hellraiser, Pinhead, Chatterer, Terri, etc.... Copyrights. Review. Have fun. Piss yourself. (Optional)


In the olden days of yore, many things had happened, not the least of which was the creation of the Lament Configuration. This was a box, seemingly an ancient Chinese puzzle box, archaic writings and lines abounded upon its surface. It was originally crd byd by a toymaker, searching for a child’s toy to entertain all ages. What he found was an entrance to Hell. He took this to many palaces, showing his toy off, allowing them to attempt to solve it. Finally he found a buyer. He showed them the works of the toy, as it would belong to the propagator's son. He left the next day, bidding the buyer to give it to his son after he left. The toymaker, of course, had no idea what would happen. The toymaker rode hard for home, and finally reached his small shop. Two days afterward, he was confronted with a messenger, and a guard. They took him to the propagator of the Lament Configuration’s house. There he found several brutally killed. Everyone in the house was killed, and in some of the most horrible ways imaginable. The toymaker set out to find the box, figuring he could make money off it once more. There was no idea how these murders had happened, and so the toymaker set the box on his shelf, to await he or she who would buy it. He allowed a child and mother to peruse his back shelves, and the child found the Lament Configuration, and pocketed it. He took it home that night. In his bedroom, late that night, he began to play with it. The box opened the entranceway to Hell opened once more. A creature emerged from this opening. His body was completely white, and black leather covered his body to his neck. On his chest were slits in the leather, and under, seen on his chest, were slits as well. Pins stuck out from his head, and lines shot from each of these pins to the next. He walked to the small child, offering his hand. The child took it, leaving the box on the ground, and entered into the Labyrinth with Pinhead. Pinhead took the boy through the Labyrinth, to the one known as Leviathan. Pinhead left the boy with the scorpion being that was Leviathan. Leviathan brutally beat the boy, altering him. He removed both eyes, pulling his forehead down so the eyes were covered by skin, he pulled both lips back, causing an incessant chattering of the boy’s teeth. He then set the boy free, the nine-year old now a man. The man, called Chatterer, stayed with Pinhead now. Others joined them, from different eras, different places. Terri, a female. The skin of her throat was pulled back, and a sewing pin was pushed into that open skin. Now they awaited their latest opening, a small tavern. Were they allowed entrance, they knew that Leviathan would allow them much time to complete their suffering. They trembled slightly, feeling foreignds pds picking up the box. They felt each motion of the hand, running across the archaic lines. Then the box began to make it’s own motions, revolving around in it’s star shape, then lowering. The circle in the middle opened, and the chains shot forth, clipping the opener in the shoulder, and locking to the wall. The Cenobites walked forth through the entrance, their steps slow, each step audible. Pinhead stopped before the woman who had opened it, “Grace, you have opened the box, you have come, willingly. We are going to reward you. That is right. As with all puzzles, this one offers a reward. And your reward is the exquisite pleasure that is complete pain.” As he said this Grace began to whimper and shrink away from him. With each step she took, he also took one, his complete black, emotionless eyes fixed on hers, not a glint of light in those eyes. “How about I just pass on that?” She asked, her full lip quivering slightly as he joking came into play. This was one of her defense mechanisms. He shook his head, dismissing the notion out of hand. She began to cry, the soft whimpering turning into a soft sobbing now, tears coming down her cheek slowly, her breath coming in ragged sobs, as she once again tried, through her large breaths, to ask to be let go, “Please, I didn’t do anything to you, and-and -and...’’ At this she couldn’t go on, and broke down sobbing again. Pinhead shook his head again, not listening to any more of these pleas. He turned his back, walking slowly away from her, each step audible as his boot steps onto the ground, the clack of his boots echoing slightly. He turned a shot distance away, looking at her again. As he spins the bottom of his outfit spins along with him, and he takes slow steps towards her, his hands behind his back. In these hands is a large metal hook. He presses it into Grace’s left cheek, and begins to slowly push inwards, the blood rolling down in trickles. “Come now, Grace. “Your tears are wasted pain, wasted suffering. Do not cry.’’ He states, his voice devoid of emotion. Grace’s eyes widened, to the point of disbelief, and she returned, clearly, without tears, as though the hook had awoken her calm once more, “Well fine, I won’t.’’ She stares at him evenly, though fear still courses through her veins. She then asks, “What now?” She glances at the Labyrinth, dreading it, though were the choice between it and the Cenobites...


“Are you coming willingly?, as you called us? Or will there be more wasted suffering, though this pain we offer is the most immense pleasure. Why, Chatterer here joined us at the age of nine.’’ He smiled coldly, still watching her. He then beckoned the others to back away. As they back away towards the entrance to the Labyrinth, ressresses the hook’s edge to her flesh once more, the blood dripping again, staining the ground.


Grace jerked away, the hook cutting deeper into her. She obviously did not want him near her. She shook her head again, and backed away a few steps, completely prepared to run. “How nice of you to adopt him,” Came her sarcasm, and then she looked over her shoulder. It obviously didn’t matter where she went now, as long as she got away. She wiped the blood from her cheek, and the cut glowed brilliantly. As the light faded, the wound closed itself up.

Pinhead advanced closer to Grace, pressing the hook more forcefully into her flesh, “Perhaps I should leave you like this when Lord Leviathan disfigures you. Perhaps you would be better off then. He gestures, and the hooks recede back into the box, the entrance to the Labyrinth still open. He grabs the hook once more, ripping it from her face forcefully, “Or perhaps not?”

Grace stumbled backwards as the hook was yanked from her face, and she brought her hand to her cheek, involuntary cheeks springing and welling in her eyes as the blood seeped through her tightly clenched fingers. The wound glowed again, and the pain still lingered, but the wound itself disappeared. She got a feeling it would prove a challenge to these beings. She then turned on her heel, sprinting into the Labyrinth. Her chest rose and fell painfully with each breath taken as she ran, fear as much as exertion causing this. She dared not look behind, only ahead. She took turns blindly, lead only by her need to escape. She ran into a dead end, almost colliding with it. She cursed, “Damn no!” She pressed her hands against he wall, trying to find an escape that didn’t exist there. She bit her lower lip, looking behind her.



Pinhead narrowed his eyes at Grace’s bold move, shrugging and turning on his heel, delighting in the chase. He turned to the wall, walking through it and appearing from the wall that Grace was running for. He slowly walked towards her, leaving Terri and Chatterer behind. His steps were muffled as he walked. His stark white face shown visible in the darkness of the Labyrinth, each wall the same, all seeming to lead to salvation, but none doing so.

Grace cursed again, as Pinhead appeared before her. She instantly began to back up. “You know,” she said, “this is called stalking.’’ This came through short, gasping breaths. She turned and fled again, running down a long passageway of the Labyrinth before turning right. This passage led down a short way, turning only left. She took this path. A dead-end once more. No way out.

Pinhead continued to walk, his slow movements graceful. He entered into the passageway she had taken, slowly walkinwardwards her, cornering her in this dead end. He stepped forward one more, his nose touching her forehead, the pins in his head scraping along her jaw line. He then pressed the hook to the spot just above her ear. He began to cut then, each incision being brought down and in, severing through muscle, tissue, artery, to the bone. He brought the wound to below her ear, ripped the hook out mercilessly, then repeated this performance on the other side. He got down to the few remaining strips of flesh hanging on to this large chunk, and ripped them out with his hand, holding the hook still, but now it wasn’t to her. He then dropped the chunk of flesh, and, where her left ear had been, was now only blood and bone.

Grace cried out as she came fact-to-face with Pinhead, and screamed in agonizing pain as her ear was ripped from her head. In her fear and pain she closed her eyes, concentrating hard. When she had been cast from Heaven, many powers had been stripped from her, but perhaps some remained, at least, those were her thoughts. Her body stopped shaking, and she stood still. Her body began to glow ever so dimly. Her brow furrowed as she concentrated more, and her body glowed brighter. Suddenly the light flared, until she was nothing but a form of light, and she took a step towards the wall, meeting it, and disappearing into it. On the other side she collapsed from the effort. Her ear healed once more, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to pull that off again. She ran past passage after passage, breathing heavy and continuing to run from the Cenobites. She twisted and turned in her course, attempting to shake Pinhead from her course. She hadn’t met a dead end in a while, and she felt secure. She then ran into an open space, many paths opening before her. She stopped in the middle of this small clearing, spinning around, not knowing which path to choose. She was unsure of herself, her wings fluttering against her back. Her chest burnt with all the oxygen intake and outtake. She couldn’t stop shaking. She muttered, “Oh God, please, don’t turn a deaf ear on me tonight...’’ Her voice came out as a barely audible whisper.

Pinhead nodded some at these events, turning once more and walking through the twisting halls of the Labyrinth. He slowly scanned the passageways, shrugging then and rising to the top of the Labyrinth. Walking along the top of the walls, he watched her silently as she spun. He walked slowly, giving her time to choose and run. He then dropped to the middle with her, his leather outfit swirling up around him as he did so. His boots hit home harder now, each step like a thunderclap. Each step driving her partially crazy. Each step bringing him closer to her.

Grace turned as she heard him, a snarl forming upon her pretty face, “I really, REALLY don’t like you,’’ She said hoarsely, beginning to back away once mo“Thi“This is NOT the way to get a date, eith Cam Came her sarcasm once more, as she turned and picked a random tunnel. She jogged now, knowing it was useless to run, and knowing also that she needed to conserve her energy. She ran into another dead end, and knew she couldn’t muster the power to pass through this time. She headed back towards the opening, praying the whole while.

Pinhead’s boots clacked loudly now as he got closer, moving faster, even though it would appeas pas pace was not altered. The tunnel she chose ended in a dead end, a blank wall, and he knew this. He turned the corner, his hands once more behind his back as he walked. He soon came upon her, assessing her coldly with his eyes. No white showed in those eyes.

Grace backed up, holding her palms splayed before her. A wall of light suddenly began to glow in the tunnel, strong and resilient. She prayed with all her might that it would hold, at least to buy her a few precious moments, she closed her eyes, concentrating upon passing through the wall.


Pinhead came up against the barrier, hitting it and stepping back once. He then proceeded to step through it, experiencing the excruciating pain it provided him. He reveled in this pain, this exquisite pleasure. Before she was able to pass through the wall he reached her, and grabbed her arm, pulling her forcefully back, possibly dislocating her arm. He brought the hook to bear once more, slicing into the flesh of her arm.

Grace was pulled back roughly, snapping her out of the phase she had entered. Pain snaked its way up and down from her shoulder, and the wound he had opened bled heavily. She jerked away from his grasp, and he was pushed back by an unseen force as her glow flashed blindingly. When the glow faded from view, she was gone. She had escaped again.

Pinhead slammed his hand against the wall, then returning to his state of calm once more, she agitated him, true, but he would win. In the end. He summoned the others, Butterball, Camerahead, Chatterer, and Terri. He summoned them all. He himself floated to the top of the Labyrinth, walking along the top of the walls, and following her. The others followed her within the Labyrinth. He dropped down a turn away, so that once she turned she would run smack into him. He nodded some, as he had seen Butterball and Chatterer closing from behind. He waited.

Grace turned the corner, but was too driven by fear to notice him. saw saw him much too late, and ran into him, knocking him down with her. She landed atop her, and screamed, struggling against him to get up. She spun around, and her heart dropped from her chest as she saw Butterball and Chatterer. “You know,” she joked, nervously, ‘I can help you guys out. Jenny Craig and a good dentist can do wonders.” she laughed at her weak attempt, and another aura glowed about her. It was a protective shield, not the strongest, but it would keep her safe for a moment or two.

Pinhead stood, holding his hands behind his back still, watching her closely, scrutinizing her every movement. Butterball reached in to grab her forcefully, and was thrown back. Chatterer remained in his position, his teeth slamming together forcefully, over, and over, and over. Pinhead took a step forward, pressing the hook against the aura, then bringing it away. He shook his head, and entered into her little aura, his pins grazing her face ever so lightly.

Grace laughed as Butterball’s bulk was thrown backwards, “Ya fat bastard!” But her nervous laughter ended abruptly as she felt Pinhead enter her shield. She blinked once, watching him hopelessly weak as he walked up to her. She winced as the pins on his head scratched her. And in the face of this danger, she cracked a smile, “You must not get kissed a lot, huh?” She then took a step back, all too suddenly and turned, her aura still strong, and ran right between Butterball and Chatterer, throwing them both aside with the aura-shield. She turned the corner, and was gone once more.

Chatterer chattered quickly, soon rising and running after her. Butterball stood, attempting to run, but was slowed by his bulk. Pinhead rose once more, rising all the way into the realms of Leviathan. He entered Leviathan. Leviathan, the large scorpion looking beast summoned all the Cenobites, and Grace, into it. Pinhead slowly walked around her, “Did you truly think you would escape me, Grace? I told you that your suffering would be Legendary. Even in Hell.” He nodded, and brought the hook to bear upon her neck, cutting a small slit, allowing the blood to seep. “You will join us either way. But remember, you called to us willingly, Grace.”

Grace stood, suddenly in Leviathan. She trembled wildly, and stood where she was. She flinched as he cut her neck, the blood welling and seeping down her throat. It glowed briefly, and even as she spoke began to heal, “If I’m so willing, then why amunniunning?” She asked quietly, her voice a hoarse whisper, watching Pinhead steadily. Her fiery hair fell into her eyes, her dress sticking to her with her own perspiration. She breathed heavily, and the situation seemed hopeless to her. And her fear began to drain from her.

Pinhead then put both his hands on her shoulder, and Terri did the same. Then beganshakshake her gently, then more roughly, screaming out, “Grace! Grace! GRACE!” As they did so. Their voices were altered, more familiar somehow. She wouldn’t be able to place names or faces, but it was familiar. Their faces were distorted then, and everything began to fade out.

Grace opened her eyes, still screaming, expecting to see the faces of Pinhead and Terri. But she did not. Her parents leaned over her, worry on their faces, “Grace! Grace, are you alright, honey?” Her mother asked, her brow furrowed. She stopped screaming, and sat up straight, her heart still beating furiously within her chest. She stood and pushed past her parents, looking around, turning in circles wildly. “Where are they?! Where did they go?!” She asked fearfully, throwing open her closet, looking under her bed. Her father frowned, “Sweetheart, you just had a nightmare, that’s all.” She stopped searching, and stood there, shaking still. “But it...It seemed so real...” She said quietly. She rushed forward, hugging her parents tightly, tears streaming down her face. “Just a dream...” She murmured, cherishing the fact.

“Do not waste your tears, do not waste this suffering.” Pinhead’s voice resounded through the room, echoing clearly throughout the room, and a flash of lightning was seen. The lightning lit up a doll, and the outline of Pinhead could be seen. In this image his hook was raised. Then the flash is gone, and the doll’s shadow returns to its normal state.

Grace heard the voice, and screamed, pushing away from her parents, collapsing upon the floor, sobbing ly. Hy. Her parents looked at each other, and then at their daughter, worry on their faces once more. “It wasn’t a dream, it was never a dream...” She wept loudly, her voice broken by loud sobs, gulping in air quickly. Her parents helped her into her bed, and comforted as she cried, until she fell asleep.