Part 1
Part 2
He was finding it somewhat easier to breathe, a sign that he was somehow acclimating to his new environment. Nearby a small tub of crusted rock formed a tub of magma in which no less than three humanoid forms were being forced under by a grotesquely obese monster with jagged teeth protruding from its mouth in every direction and brandishing a rusty spear that looked older than time. It was taking perverse pleasure in the suffering it seemed to be causing in its victims. Still it paid no attention to John, which was some small relief. As he got closer, he finally noticed that the figures in the bath of flames were screaming in agony; screams so terrible they made John's flesh want to crawl away and hide under a rock.
It was like nothing he had ever heard before and it confused him that he only now noticed the unmistakable screams. As he listened in horror, he realized that all around him, coming from all directions was a low drone permeating the rocks, the lava, the flames and even the fumes. There was a constant noise that was so omnipresent, John had mistaken it for simply a rumble of the earth. The noise was not the earth. It was screaming. Screams were woven into a tapestry of madness that decorated this place as much as the motif of fire and brimstone. John stood perfectly still, afraid to move or be noticed. He was afraid, but began to remember that he was pretty sure that he was drunk and maybe he was still passed out on the street instead of here.
"Bummer kid..." came a voice from just over John's right shoulder. John turned and saw nothing, but then looked up to see a small winged creature flapping vigorously to stay afloat. It was deep red with tiny horns barely visible on its head. Startled, John said nothing.
"You really shouldn't have followed Grisshmah here. He's always going for late night hunts on earth."
"Who?" John responded perplexed.
"Grisshmah. The cat you followed that then walked upright."
"Oh, right. What was that thing?" John asked, suddenly unafraid in this presence of this tiny imp that seemed to be the only creature able to notice him. Surely it could do no harm, John thought. It probably wasn't logical, but John somehow felt at ease with the imp as if he were being calmed or soothed invisibly.
"Oh. he's a Felixasha. It's like a cat, except it's a demon; a pretty nasty one too. Kind of like an Arthallith, but without the poisonous pincers," the imp said nonchalantly, as if discussing the big game from last night.
"Ah. Well. That explains that then." John nodded, feigning comprehension. "So where am I?" John continued after a brief pause to reflect on his state of affairs.
"You're in hell kid." the imp said flatly.
"Hell?" John repeated incredulously. "There's no such place."
"Look around you. You think you're in heaven? Think you're still on earth? Earth doesn't have the boiling lava pits filled with monstrous abominations feasting on the souls of mortals. Least not the last time I was there, I suppose things could've changed."
"Hell? Hell. Well, I'll be damned."
"You're right there kid."
Showing posts with label hell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hell. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Hell is a Real Place (p2)
See part one. Tone's changing. Still rough. Criticism still welcome.
===
John had stepped inside the deepest bowels of the most ancient volcano on the most unforgiving alien world. Lava poured from above and spewed forth from the charred ashen trails underfoot. Acrid smoke choked the air out of his lungs, burned his eyes and seared his throat. Caustic acid belched from fissures, threatening to eat flesh from bone. Terrible creatures milled about, seemingly unaffected by their surroundings, carrying grotesque implements they used to flay, maim, and rend the remains of fallen souls. These creatures would have given nightmares to even the most hardened criminals who could perpetrate the most heinous acts known to man. It was this knowledge of man, or lack thereof, that would have caused the nightmares in any witness. These creatures could perpetrate acts so heinous that they were unknown to man. Not only would any rapist, murderer, or pedophile weep at the mere sight of these creatures, but it is estimated by the Grand Defiling Council that one in three earthly politicians would be slightly troubled in the knowledge of the acts carried out by these monstrosities.
Some had wings, leathery and clawed. Some had fangs, gnarled and razor sharp. Some had no flesh, leaving whatever viscera God or Satan had cursed them with exposed and pulsating sickeningly. Some had heads, head shaped and sitting right upon their necks. Others still had appendages and parts incomparable to any known living creatures. In fact, the common biologist, should she ever observe this scene, might guess that these creatures had no less than thirteen different genders, based on their various parts and the manner in which they were using them.
This multitude of varied creatures was imposing itself upon the wretched and pitiful remains of what appeared to be human souls. Some were being buried in the burning offal that flowed through a natural tunnel forming a sewer in hell. Others were being torn to shreds in hideous machinery made of rusty metals not seen on earth and the bones of martyrs. Others still were hung by their flesh while fleshless dogs snapped at whatever parts of them hung too low. Possibly the worst torture John witnessed was inflicted upon those who were constantly being chased up a hill of broken glass and barbed metal by creatures foul, made of legs and teeth. At the top of the hill was what appeared to be a portal to a sunny vista free from care. From his vantage point John could see that the portal actually dropped a thousand feet into a pit of spikes and worms that burrowed into the flesh of those that made it to the top. This form of torture seemed to add a personal insult on top of the sheer agony of eternal damnation by waving a false hope over the damneds' heads.
It was the worst thing John had ever seen. Then things got bad. Despite the horrendousness of these terrors, John didn't believe in hell. For this he was grateful. He made he way onward and through a fissure in a large rock wall that seemed to divide the area he was in from another, much larger domain of punishment.
John saw a muscular figure ahead of him just beyond the portal heading further into the maw of the earth. It no longer resembled a domestic cat, but rather walked about as a man. Yet it still had feline features: its ears and tail and claws, and was still missing its flesh. It continued on and ignored John, clearly unworried about his presence. Just before it exited through another narrow chasm in the wall ahead, it turned to face John, who could now glimpse the sheer magnitude of the horror he was following. The creature's eyes glowed brilliantly and malevolently at John as its tongue slithered out of its mouth revealing its forked nature. Brimstone tinged smoke poured from its nostrils and its wrists and ankles caught flame. It laughed a deep guttural utterance and vanished through the chasm, which closed behind it.
Had John thought he was sober and awake, he would have shit himself. Among another stroke of brilliant luck, he was still just buzzed enough to remain sane in the face of unimaginable horrors. Also lucky was the fact that none of the unimaginable horrors had to be imagined because they were right there within perfect viewing distance. Beginning to worry about his possible return if in fact he really was here, John turned to head back. Once he managed his way back to where he thought he arrived, he found the portal vanished, leaving not so much as a scorch upon the rock wall. He turned back again to his original direction and continued on in careful trepidation.
===
John had stepped inside the deepest bowels of the most ancient volcano on the most unforgiving alien world. Lava poured from above and spewed forth from the charred ashen trails underfoot. Acrid smoke choked the air out of his lungs, burned his eyes and seared his throat. Caustic acid belched from fissures, threatening to eat flesh from bone. Terrible creatures milled about, seemingly unaffected by their surroundings, carrying grotesque implements they used to flay, maim, and rend the remains of fallen souls. These creatures would have given nightmares to even the most hardened criminals who could perpetrate the most heinous acts known to man. It was this knowledge of man, or lack thereof, that would have caused the nightmares in any witness. These creatures could perpetrate acts so heinous that they were unknown to man. Not only would any rapist, murderer, or pedophile weep at the mere sight of these creatures, but it is estimated by the Grand Defiling Council that one in three earthly politicians would be slightly troubled in the knowledge of the acts carried out by these monstrosities.
Some had wings, leathery and clawed. Some had fangs, gnarled and razor sharp. Some had no flesh, leaving whatever viscera God or Satan had cursed them with exposed and pulsating sickeningly. Some had heads, head shaped and sitting right upon their necks. Others still had appendages and parts incomparable to any known living creatures. In fact, the common biologist, should she ever observe this scene, might guess that these creatures had no less than thirteen different genders, based on their various parts and the manner in which they were using them.
This multitude of varied creatures was imposing itself upon the wretched and pitiful remains of what appeared to be human souls. Some were being buried in the burning offal that flowed through a natural tunnel forming a sewer in hell. Others were being torn to shreds in hideous machinery made of rusty metals not seen on earth and the bones of martyrs. Others still were hung by their flesh while fleshless dogs snapped at whatever parts of them hung too low. Possibly the worst torture John witnessed was inflicted upon those who were constantly being chased up a hill of broken glass and barbed metal by creatures foul, made of legs and teeth. At the top of the hill was what appeared to be a portal to a sunny vista free from care. From his vantage point John could see that the portal actually dropped a thousand feet into a pit of spikes and worms that burrowed into the flesh of those that made it to the top. This form of torture seemed to add a personal insult on top of the sheer agony of eternal damnation by waving a false hope over the damneds' heads.
It was the worst thing John had ever seen. Then things got bad. Despite the horrendousness of these terrors, John didn't believe in hell. For this he was grateful. He made he way onward and through a fissure in a large rock wall that seemed to divide the area he was in from another, much larger domain of punishment.
John saw a muscular figure ahead of him just beyond the portal heading further into the maw of the earth. It no longer resembled a domestic cat, but rather walked about as a man. Yet it still had feline features: its ears and tail and claws, and was still missing its flesh. It continued on and ignored John, clearly unworried about his presence. Just before it exited through another narrow chasm in the wall ahead, it turned to face John, who could now glimpse the sheer magnitude of the horror he was following. The creature's eyes glowed brilliantly and malevolently at John as its tongue slithered out of its mouth revealing its forked nature. Brimstone tinged smoke poured from its nostrils and its wrists and ankles caught flame. It laughed a deep guttural utterance and vanished through the chasm, which closed behind it.
Had John thought he was sober and awake, he would have shit himself. Among another stroke of brilliant luck, he was still just buzzed enough to remain sane in the face of unimaginable horrors. Also lucky was the fact that none of the unimaginable horrors had to be imagined because they were right there within perfect viewing distance. Beginning to worry about his possible return if in fact he really was here, John turned to head back. Once he managed his way back to where he thought he arrived, he found the portal vanished, leaving not so much as a scorch upon the rock wall. He turned back again to his original direction and continued on in careful trepidation.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Hell is a Real Place (p1)
Deep in the darkest of nights, John stumbled about looking for his way. He was slightly inebriated and much to his dismay, this was causing him no small amount of trouble finding his car. He was fairly certain that he had parked it here on Third Street, but in his haze, even he admitted that all the streets looked the same. Finally deciding even while drunk that not being able to find one's car was a disqualification for driving it, he decided to walk home and potentially save the lives of himself and anyone between here and his apartment.
Unfortunately for John, the distance between these locations was greater than travel by foot would easily accommodate. Again, John's current level of cognition allowed to reason that driving was not a good idea but not that walking the double digit number of miles back to his place was not a good idea. Luckily for John's feet and unluckily for he himself, John got lost in a side alley about one block into his journey. He had thought that he had seen a cat wander down the alley and so naturally decided to follow. This was a perfectly reasonable course of action.
He entered the alleyway gazing upwards like a child in amazement at all the new sights to see in a world just being discovered. This was John's favorite part of being drunk, ranking well above hangovers. To John, being drunk was to rediscover the wonders of the world. The way the light shone down in a certain way, or the rhythmic shadow cast by a ceiling fan, or the smell of an open field on a warm spring day could all arrest John's sense of normalcy and fascinate him to no end. What this fascination began brought contentment, at least for a time. John looked down from a flickering neon light. "Why didI come down this way?" he said aloud. "Oh right, the kitty cat." He centered his head with each hand to its matching temple and continued down the alley, determinedly.
He couldn't seem to find the cat at this juncture and became weary for all his travels. He sat down between two small garbage cans just outside the rear entrance to a Chinese takeout and lolled his head back, jarring it slightly on the brick wall behind.
This was a small inconvenience and not one to take notice of. When John came to, it was not morning as would be expected. He also was still not entirely sober. He heard a noise from further down the alley and peered around the can to discover its origin. Slinking through the shadows, John thought he glimpsed the shadowy form of a small cat meandering warily, much like a cat would. However, and John wasn't sure if this was the alcohol speaking to him, it seemed that the cat was slightly different than the average cat. It did not appear to have any fur.
John arose and crept slowly and deliberately to close in on the creature. As he got close enough to make out further details he also noticed that this thing was slightly different than your average mammal in that it had no flesh. John blinked. John rubbed his eyes. It still had no flesh. It looked back at him and with glowing eyes, hissed a ferocious growling threat that seemed to speak in words to John that said, "Don't follow."
Always willing to heed good advice when drunk, John waited for almost three seconds before following the creature into where only after entering its veil did John see a great brilliant portal of flame standing innocently in the middle of a downtown alleyway. This was not the sort of thing John was used to seeing in alleyways, but he was also not used to drunkenly wandering through alleys in the middle of the night. Curious beyond measure, John reached out a finger towards the portal. It felt warm, but its blazing appearance lied of its apparent heat. John, feeling the bravery of alcohol, leaned in closer and gingerly poked his head through the portal for a peek of what absolutely cannot be described in words. What follows is a description in words of what he saw.
--
To be continued...
Constructive criticism welcome
Unfortunately for John, the distance between these locations was greater than travel by foot would easily accommodate. Again, John's current level of cognition allowed to reason that driving was not a good idea but not that walking the double digit number of miles back to his place was not a good idea. Luckily for John's feet and unluckily for he himself, John got lost in a side alley about one block into his journey. He had thought that he had seen a cat wander down the alley and so naturally decided to follow. This was a perfectly reasonable course of action.
He entered the alleyway gazing upwards like a child in amazement at all the new sights to see in a world just being discovered. This was John's favorite part of being drunk, ranking well above hangovers. To John, being drunk was to rediscover the wonders of the world. The way the light shone down in a certain way, or the rhythmic shadow cast by a ceiling fan, or the smell of an open field on a warm spring day could all arrest John's sense of normalcy and fascinate him to no end. What this fascination began brought contentment, at least for a time. John looked down from a flickering neon light. "Why didI come down this way?" he said aloud. "Oh right, the kitty cat." He centered his head with each hand to its matching temple and continued down the alley, determinedly.
He couldn't seem to find the cat at this juncture and became weary for all his travels. He sat down between two small garbage cans just outside the rear entrance to a Chinese takeout and lolled his head back, jarring it slightly on the brick wall behind.
This was a small inconvenience and not one to take notice of. When John came to, it was not morning as would be expected. He also was still not entirely sober. He heard a noise from further down the alley and peered around the can to discover its origin. Slinking through the shadows, John thought he glimpsed the shadowy form of a small cat meandering warily, much like a cat would. However, and John wasn't sure if this was the alcohol speaking to him, it seemed that the cat was slightly different than the average cat. It did not appear to have any fur.
John arose and crept slowly and deliberately to close in on the creature. As he got close enough to make out further details he also noticed that this thing was slightly different than your average mammal in that it had no flesh. John blinked. John rubbed his eyes. It still had no flesh. It looked back at him and with glowing eyes, hissed a ferocious growling threat that seemed to speak in words to John that said, "Don't follow."
Always willing to heed good advice when drunk, John waited for almost three seconds before following the creature into where only after entering its veil did John see a great brilliant portal of flame standing innocently in the middle of a downtown alleyway. This was not the sort of thing John was used to seeing in alleyways, but he was also not used to drunkenly wandering through alleys in the middle of the night. Curious beyond measure, John reached out a finger towards the portal. It felt warm, but its blazing appearance lied of its apparent heat. John, feeling the bravery of alcohol, leaned in closer and gingerly poked his head through the portal for a peek of what absolutely cannot be described in words. What follows is a description in words of what he saw.
--
To be continued...
Constructive criticism welcome
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