The Nine Rings of Tickle Hell (Concept)
There exists a distant realm where damned souls are sent to suffer as punishment for their sins. It is called Tickle Hell, and it is where the Pit of Eternal Laughter sits, waiting for more of the fallen to feed its endless appetite. Before descending into its depths, they are met by twins Knisme and Gargale to be judged for their transgressions, with sentences ranging from months to millennia trapped in one of the eight lower rings of Tickle Hell, with each descending ring magnitudes more torturous than the last.
Here are some of the fates that await them:
Those damned to the Second Ring live in a state of eternal frustration: here they must hoist boxes over their heads and onto shelves high above them. However, just as they are moments from success, a dozen disembodied hands appear and tickle their exposed spots, most especially their underarms, sides, legs, and feet until they crumble and drop the box onto the ground. Their punishment only ends when they successfully place a set number of boxes on the shelves above, with some spending years unable to hoist a single box into place.
Those damned to the Third Ring live in a state of eternal suspense: here they are engaged in a perpetual game of hide and seek, trying to evade a hunting party of devilish skeletons in a haunted forest. Apart from vines and grasses that will ensnare them if they get too close, tiny bugs will latch onto them if they stay in one place for too long, tickling them across their nude bodies until they make a sound and break their cover. They are them dragged back to be tickled relentlessly across a stretching rack for the rest of the day.
Those damned to the Fourth Ring live in a state of eternal regret: hanging by their wrists from high above, they endure unending tickle torture by demons who have taken on the appearance of those they hurt in life. From spurned subordinates to jilted lovers, these forms remind their victim constantly of how they got what was coming to them, all the while the damned desperately try to talk their way out of their suffering. Unfortunately for the poor soul, they are unable to communicate through a Mask of Eternal Shame over their face.
Those damned to the Fifth Ring live in a state of eternal shame: here they are placed on full display in front of a crowd, tickled relentlessly across their nude bodies as onlookers gawk at them and their perversion. They are also treated with a topical serum that forces them to become visibly aroused despite their suffering, as forms in the crowd take the shape of their family, friends, and coworkers, loudly commenting at how perverted they are and how ashamed they are to have even known them.
Those damned to the Sixth Ring live in a state of eternal confusion: here they are trapped in the confines of an otherworldly insane asylum, placed there under a name that isn't theirs, with a condition that is never revealed to them. Stripped of the ability to speak, they are forced to suffer through endless tickle treatments against their will at the hands of their non-human doctors and nurses. Over time, they lose all sense of who they are, believing that they are the person they are told, and need more treatments to get better.
Those damned to the Seventh Ring live in a state of eternal death: having watched themselves be placed in a coffin and buried alive at their funeral, they find themselves in a necropolis, surrounded by mummies who come to life and pounce upon them. Tickling them endlessly, the poor souls attempt to scream for help as they hear the dirt being scooped onto the coffin above, knowing it is only a matter of time they are unable to be heard, and will be trapped down there with the tickling mummies.
Those damned to the Eighth Ring live in a state of eternal doubling: here they are locked in a set of stocks, forced to watch a single entity tickle their feet. However, the entity is standing in between two mirrors, and just as the mirrors turn, their image is doubled, then quadrupled, increasing exponentially as the damned begins to experience the same sensation, soon feeling the onslaught of hundreds, then thousands of fingers across the soles of their feet, as their minds crumble underneath the intensity.
Those damned to the Ninth Ring live in a state of eternal abstract: here the damned have their body parts divided, placed into separate chambers, as a dozen creatures tickle them. These beings have fingers at the ends of their fingers to tickle their underarms with, and tongues at the ends of their tongues to lap at their feet with, all the while the disembodied eyes watch helpless in front of several screen, and the disembodied mouth screams and cackles into the void that cannot hear it.