Now, I suppose, I should probably put a warning of sorts up before I post this.
Not so much in the first chapter, but especially in the second and third, there is a good deal of gruesome gore/horror/torture stuff. Just putting that out there.
I’ve taken up drinking. Ever since the experiences I am here writing about, alcohol is what I resort to, in a vain attempt to block out the memories of this horror.
But it isn’t enough, never enough.
So I have decided to bite the bullet, so to speak, and chronicle the horrors that I came across in my journey through the deepest place, hell.
Perhaps this will allow the agony to leave, or at least somewhat. Perhaps this mode of communication, putting the terror onto paper.
How it exactly happened, I’m not sure. I had gone through some dark days after my mother passed away. Her death had been a shock, one day she was alive and well, inviting me over for dinner “with the family”, the next, a lifeless corpse.
She had been the only light in my life. My first father had been mean to me, to the brink of abuse. My mother remarried after I left the house at the age of eighteen. My stepfather was kind, but I always had the feeling that he resented me for my close relationship with my mother. We had bonded during the dark time of my father. I had two siblings, Edward and Evangeline, but they were both older than me and had moved out
As soon as she died, I had plunged deep into depression. My life looked bleak ahead of me. I frequently slit my wrists and arms, playing with death.
I turned to drink a few times, but, no matter how much I wished I would, I didn’t get addicted to it and it offered me no respite.
One day I decided to commit suicide. I climbed to the top of a building in the city I lived in, preparing to leap to my death.
But hell hungered for me more than I knew. I jumped off of the building. The cold air whipped through my hair. I closed my eyes, readying myself for the death to come. I heard someone scream as they saw me falling.
My body twitched. I thought that I must have fallen, have met my death.
But I still was falling.
I opened my eyes. Blackness was all around me. I turned my head to look behind me, and saw a circle of light slowly shrinking.
Then the jaws of hell closed. I saw shadowy teeth close over the opening, sealing out all light.
Heat began to grow around me.
I turned back around, the direction I was falling. The black had started to turn into a deep, dark red, a crimson looking of dried blood.
Then below me, I saw the ground rapidly approach. I covered my face with my arms, shielding from whatever lay below.
But my vision was not completely obscured. I saw that the ground was covered with spikes, like stalagmites in a cave. I realized that there was one directly below me. But it was too late.
My body fell onto the spike. It went through my chest, rending a hole in my body.
But I had been falling a long time, and still had a good amount of momentum. I continued to slide down the spike, leaving a trail of blood behind. The hole widened, taking up half of my chest.
Then I halted. My knees rested on the ground below. My hands were on the ground in front of me.
I turned my head, hearing the approach of someone. A figure, completely black, walked towards me.
I strained my neck to see its face, but was unable to.
It stopped a few feet away. I saw its feet in front of me, made of an all-encompassing blackness. Then it bent its knees, looking down at me.
I saw its face then. It, too, was utterly black, and smooth, with no distinguishing features.
“Welcome to hell,” the figure said in a voice deeper than I could have ever imagined, yet soft in a sinister way. As it talked, I saw its teeth, flashing in the dim light of the place. Perhaps it was just because of the stark contrast between them and the rest of its body, but they seemed to be made of the purest white imaginable. “Welcome, indeed,” it said. Its teeth shown in a terrifying smile, a wicked grin filled with bloodlust.
He took a step closer and grabbed the spike I had fallen onto. With tremendous strength, he ripped it out of the ground and out of me, furthering the damage it had done to my body.
He tossed it away, into the dark and shadows out of the range of my vision.
“Oh, I’m so sorry for that,” he said, sneering and putting an emphasis on the word ‘so’. “I can’t imagine that that little thorn was fun to fall on, at all. But perhaps it was? Perhaps you would like to experience it again? Yes, yes I think that would be good.”
Instantly I was falling again. I saw the ground below me and the spike, yet even though I knew what would happen, I could not stop myself from falling or move out of the way. I fell onto the spike, blood being thrown out of my back.
Again I fell onto it, again and yet again. There seemed to be no end to my falling. Again and again I fell on it, too many to count.
Then I was collapsed on the ground, the hole through my chest spurting blood. The black figure stood above me, looking down at me.
His teeth shown as he spoke. “I will be your torturer for the next eternity.”
He let out a laugh. “Oh, this will be fun indeed. You’re so scared, so unsure of what is going on. Let me help you understand. You died. Now you’re in hell. Simple enough for you? I get to torture you, kill you, over and over. But of course, you can never die. Dying isn’t something that you can do here. We wouldn’t want to have you leaving before your time is done, now would we? Of course, your time will never be done, it being all eternity.”
I tried to sit up, but failed, unable to with most of my chest missing.
The black figure leaned over and picked me up by my neck. His grip was tight, tighter than I could have ever imagined. Pain shot through my body yet again. Blood began to run again, running down my clothes and dripping onto the ground. I realized for the first time how amazingly tall the figure was.
“But…but I didn’t die,” I struggled out.
His face didn’t change, or not that I could see anyway. “What?” he asked.
“I fell into here before I died,” I said. “I don’t belong here.”
The figure pulled me closer, putting the side of his head to my chest.
He heard the stuttering heartbeat that still going in my nearly-ruined chest.
As soon as he heard that, he threw me against the ground. I heard a bone crack in my body and a new wave of pain wash through me.
“So you did,” he breathed out. “How this happened, I know not. But you are right. You don’t belong here. Here,” he said, stretching out his hand towards me. Relief flooded through me as the pain receeded. I looked down at my chest.
The flesh and bone was rebuilding in my chest, starting around the edges and moving inward. A moment later, the hole in my chest was gone. All that remained was a hole in my shirt on either side.
“I will mark you, so others will not make the same mistake as did I. We cannot leave hell just from where we are now. No. We get some tricky customers down here, and they might figure out how to get out. We have to go all the way down, through all three sections, before we can get back out. Come,” he said, walking off in a direction.
“The first section, the one you are in now, is for petty sinners, thieves and liars. We kill and torture the occupants of this section, which is the biggest. But what we do to them would seem like pampering compared to what we do to those in the other two sections. The second is for those who abuse and misuse people for any reason. The third is for murderers. But after we get through that, you will be able to leave. Though I cannot imagine that your life, with all the memories of this place, will be anything like it once was.”
We continued walking through hell. The heat was unbearable, so I took off my shirt and tossed it to the side. As soon as it hit the red, sandstone-like floor, it burst into flame and a moment later was nothing more than ash.
“Mortals that are still alive belong not here,” said the black figure. “Which brings up a good topic, and perhaps one that you hoped that I would not ask. Men do not just pop into hell accidentally. You must have done something.”
Even though it did not visibly move, I could feel the eyes of the figure looking at me, while it still walked.
“I was committing suicide,” I said.
“Ah,” said the figure, and I felt his eyes move away.
“But I didn’t die yet!” I demanded. “Hell grabbed me too early.”
I looked down at the ground, unsure of what to say, or if I should even say anything.
“Ah,” the figure said again. “We are to the next torture room now. Each of the damned gets their own room to be tortured in. We like to make these things personal,” he said, a wicked grin of his teeth spreading across his formless face.
I saw him walk through an invisible wall that ripped as he passed through it. I followed him through. As soon as I was in the next room, screams reached my ears.
Out of the darkness, I saw a figure in ragged clothing running towards us, eyes wide and a scream emanating from his open mouth.
Arcing above him, I saw a flaming arrow fly through the air. It struck him through his lower back, and he fell to the ground, a puddle of blood forming below him. He continued crawling towards us.
The air a few feet away from us rippled, then another figure, identical in looks to the one who had been leading me, appeared.
“Ah, hello Marulus,” the new figure said to the other. His voice was deep, as was that of the figure who was with me, but slightly less so, and less soft. He glanced at me. “Who’s this?”
“Somehow a living got through. I’m taking him down and out,” he responded.
The other nodded. He calmly went over to the man on the ground, put his foot on his back, and grasped the arrow firmly. He ripped it out, a mess of muscles and tendons gripping the head. The man let out another scream.
“Do you know the quickest way out?” asked the figure who had been leading me, Marulus.
“Actually, I do,” said the other. “If you head that way for a while,” he said, pointing to our left, “You will come to the second realm. If you continue heading straight that way, I think that is the shortest way down to the root. You will still pass through a good number of rooms though.” He looked at me. “Do you think he can handle it?”
“I will make him do so. One doesn’t visit hell without having a few things to remember it by,” Marulus said with a look at me.