Helltaker Judgement Novels & Stories

the person who could show me heaven invited me with his open arms. "Come here or you will regret it for your life" the person who is showing me the hell, warned me. I looked between both of them getting confused whom should I choose? If I chose heaven then my family's life would be at stake and if I chose hell then I would become a walking dead body. I am stuck 'Between Hell and Heaven'

A strange feeling I haven’t felt in a decade overwhelmed me—Fear. The moment had arrived. The time for my judgement. My eyes were fixated on the Judges lips as she read, “Mr. Christopher Blackwood has been found guilty of Murder. And while watching the videos last night, I found him to be a gruesome serial killer that shouldn’t be pardoned.” Fuck!

And Jayden lost himself, too, attacking Kayden: "I confessed to killing your criminal father in defense of myself, and I told you that the rest had no hand in that, where is your justice? Where is the justice for the unjust killing of five males? I reject your unjust judgment. » Kayden left his throne and approached him, he stood in front of him, staring directly into the depth of his raging eyes, he must prove to him from the king here, who has the upper hand, and that his stubbornness and his tyranny will only bring him to the point of the sword that will separate his head from his body: «The traitor's head against the rest, name him And I give you my word to exempt the rest from the rulin

He leaned forward, his voice low, his words venomous. “Do not presume to understand me, wolf. My father died with your kind’s teeth in his throat. My wife was torn apart when your kind rioted through our city. My son...” He cut himself off, jaw locking, the emotion burned back down into stone. When he spoke again, his voice was steady, cold, merciless. “I am not a butcher. I am a judge. And your kind is guilty by design.” The chain constricted again, forcing Xander’s chest down, his lungs straining. He fought against it, every muscle trembling, golden light flickering in his eyes.

POV: Gunner Some sort of spiritual assessment. That's what it felt like. Like whatever force ran the universe had looked at Gunner Jäger, taken stock of his general track record, and decided that before it let him anywhere near the afterlife it was going to put him through one final test to see if he had the basic moral and psychological infrastructure to handle eternity without causing a incident. And the test was Santos Khyle.

"How is a piece of trash like him still breathing? Your Honor, hurry up and deliver the sentence!" "Sentence him now! Death penalty!" The memory playback was cut off abruptly as fists were raised and voices merged into a single roar demanding my execution. I pushed myself upright and straightened my back. My conscience was clear. The judge brought the gavel down. "Order! All memory extraction has been completed. After deliberation by eighteen judges present, a unanimous decision has been reached. The defendant, Hazel Cooper, has lost the trial." "What? How is that possible?" Hazel stared at the judge, disbelief written all over her face.

As Dad launched into a detailed description of eternal swamps of toxic sludge, I felt a familiar rush of dark satisfaction. This was justice, raw and unfiltered. No bureaucracy, no loopholes. Just pure, unadulterated comeuppance for the world's worst shitheads. Part of me wondered if this was too much for Sebastian. But… This was who I was, who my family was. If he couldn't handle it, better to know now. Sebastian cleared his throat, drawing our attention. His dark eyes held a mixture of curiosity and apprehension as he spoke. "I'm... intrigued by this process. Have there ever been cases where you two didn't agree on the judgment?"

But when we arrived in the judgment hall and saw her enter confidently, I started to doubt, and that doubt was confirmed soon after. This room, commonly called the "judgment hall," is a tribunal where the worst criminals or traitors to the nation are judged. The only possible sentence is death. In this room, you either walk out free, or you die, and it’s extremely rare for an accused brought here to walk out free. At first glance, the room isn’t that extraordinary. There are just high tribunes, thirteen in number, in front, benches on both sides. To the left of the tribunes is for the prosecution, and to the right is for the defense. In the middle, there’s a carpet, probably for the accused,

“You’ve met your potential executor face-to-face. You should be comforted knowing that I will be the one to pull the trigger if you’re not a pure bred wolf. It’s as the saying goes, ‘You rather the devil you know than the devil you don’t.” “I rather not associate with devils.” “You don’t have that luxury when you live in Hell.” Judge Jackson was wrong. He wasn’t a devil. He was the Devil because there was no other reason why he would taunt me the way he does. He’s a cat and I’m a mouse trapped by him that he will toy with until he became bored and finally put me out of my misery. Chances were I wasn’t a purebred wolf–all the signs were there. And because of that, I have to live the next thre

"So the question is not who is strongest, or cleverest, or most owed. The question is whose inner life we are willing to arm. Speak honestly or we are already lost." "Not me," Victoria said at once, flat and final. "I am the worst candidate in the history of candidates, and I will save the room the trouble of finding polite words for it. I spent thirty years as a machine that read my own fear and called it judgment. Give me that piece and Elias wins by lunchtime." "Not me," my father said, quieter. "For the mirrored reason. I built judgment engines to punish myself. Give the machine my soul and it will spend three days prosecuting Daniel Hale, and the world will burn around a man settling ac