Back in the same dusty corner of the Library, I’m starting to think I’m the only one who uses this computer.
Better this way, I don’t want to rush anything; I’ve lived decades with my senses on edge without being able to rest, I think I deserve some peace after all I’ve been through.
Good news, I got the job!
Frying burgers is as fun as it sounds, but hey, it pays for the room I’m staying in and leaves me with some change to eat.
For now, I have nothing to complain about.
My first week at work was easy compared to my first week in hell.
I don’t like suspense, so I’ll cut to the chase.
I had no clue what I was doing.
If you don’t remember where I’ve left off or don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about, I suggest you start from my first post.
When I woke up, I was thirsty and famished; I would eat those creatures if they weren’t so terrifying.
I’ve always liked to feel in control, having backup plans for my backup plans; that’s how it was in my company,that’s how I was in my life, I’ve always been this way since school; it was what caught the attention of my now ex-wife.
She said I had strong leadership traits and that I was destined to lead people or some crap like that; I don’t remember exactly, it’s been centuries after all.
The point is, for the first time in my life, well, now afterlife, I was completely lost. Naked, distressed, and injured, the full mortal package.
Before wandering aimlessly, I needed to at least sort out the chaos that had taken over my mind.
At this point I had it right: if any of you end up in that place, just accept that you’re screwed and try to make the best of it; denial won’t get you anywhere.
I was dead.
I was in hell.
And for some reason, I could still die, but always came back to the same place.
Those… things, I definitely didn’t want to see them again, so in the end, I decided that the city was a horrible place, but where to go next? I needed clothes, food, shelter.
Peering through the mouth of the cave, I saw the place I had arrived in my desperation to escape those pits of torture: a grey plain with dead, twisted trees.
They were as tall as pine trees, but all bore a hauntingly human shape in their trunks; I felt watched as I looked around.
In the distance, the city still stood out among the throng of people descending upon its skyscrapers.
At that moment, I wished so much to have escaped with someone. I’ve never been a very needy guy, but when the fear of the unknown embraces you, your primal instincts tell you to seek salvation in numbers.
In truth, I was lucky not to have bumped into one of those psychos so soon; I just didn’t knew it yet.
Without much choice, I slowly emerged from the cave and ventured deeper into the depths of the forest.
Hell is strange; its flora, fauna, and biomes have been meticulously engineered to cause stress and confusion in humans, yet amidst it all, its inhabitants have found a way to adapt.
As I walked through the corrupted forest, I could hear strange wails echoing through the wind; sometimes they seemed to draw near, but there was never anything when I turned around.
My throat longed for water.
I was so, so tired.
But I had to continue; something was off with that place.
I feared that if I fell asleep, I would turn into one of those weird trees and be stuck there until the end of times.
So I kept walking.
Even when the trees grew mouths that whispered promises of an eternal and blissful dream.
Even when their branches became hands so gentle and charitable, only seeking companionship, they were so lonely, seeming to have waited millennia for me.
Even when the earth became green and vibrant before my eyes.
A small part of me resisted; it knew what it meant to accept all that beautiful lie.
Somehow, I managed to make it through the forest in one piece.
I know, what a lucky bastard.
I found myself staring at the edge of a long, bubbling red river, its bank adorned with wooden stakes; to this day, I have no idea who made all that.
The river flowed to the horizon, where I glimpsed the spire for the first time.
Look, Dante Alighieri is nothing but a damned fanfic writer who inserted himself into his work and somehow echoed through history, but he got one thing right in that book. Hell is divided into levels.
The spire is a colossal marble column that traverses the circles of hell, the only way to ascend or descend. Its silhouette is unmistakable, with protrusions resembling spikes jutting out from the sides, each with hundreds of feet in length, making it imposing no matter from which angle you see it.
I had no idea at the time, but I was wandering through the welcome hall of the abyss, the second circle of hell, Lust.
My first instinct was to pull one of the stakes from the ground and use it for my protection; I clung to that with all my sanity and felt lighter seeing that I had a means of defense. I continued walking along the bank in search of something, anything, that could help me survive.
From time to time, I would see the shadow of something large passing through the clouds and would throw myself to the ground, trying to blend into the dead grass and not be seen.
The hunger was unbearable; I felt weak, an easy prey. I needed to eat.
Nothing ever comes easy in hell; I was about to learn this the hard way.
After hours of walking, I was greeted with something different in the dead landscape: a solitary bridge that allowed crossing the boiling river. Alongside it, a new sound came to my ears: the cry of a wounded beast.
I tightened my grip on the spear and approached the structure.
The bridge was quite rustic, a bit unstable, but it did its job well. Pieces of wood connected by ropes made from the hair of some creature. And in its midst, I saw, trying to reach the other side, with a leg broken and staining the loose planks with a grayish blood, a kind of gazelle.
Her fur was white, she had two pairs of horns and eyes.
She seemed, at times, to have difficulty breathing grunting in pain as she moved forward.
Desperation makes you do stupid things.
Without thinking, I threw myself against the peculiar gazelle, driving my stake into her back and piercing her chest. She screamed in pain and fell onto the bridge with a wet sound.
I remember smiling, thinking I could easily adapt to that place; after all, it was just a matter of being smart..
I didn’t know at the time that it wasn’t just humans that hunted using bait.
In the Book of Enoch in the Bible, it is mentioned that angels fall from their celestial post to the present day.
You might even think that being angels, they would be the remnants of goodness in such a cruel place, but remember that just like most of those in Gehenna, they fell for a reason.
I was so busy trying to carry the gazelle’s body to the other side of the river that I didn’t notice the shadow in the sky had returned, and it was coming towards me.
The first thing I felt was its twisted beak tearing off a piece of my right shoulder, missing my head by inches.
Screaming in pain, I turned to face my attacker, and my heart nearly stopped.
It was beautiful.
Terrifyingly beautiful, a level of symmetry that shouldn’t exist in this world.
Its main body resembled that of a white horse, covered in hundreds of constantly moving eyes.
Where its eyes would normally be, a golden ring sat, encircling its head and reflecting my horrified expression.
On each of its legs, a small pair of black wings beat constantly, while its entire body emitted an intense glow that seemed to hold my eyes captive.
But I felt it was not just that; its body expanded through planes I couldn’t see, invisible hands massaged my head, trying to force their way into my mind.
I stood there incredulous, trying to process, to rationalize the divine beast hovering in front of me.
Ready for the next onslaught.
With a piercing roar, the angel snapped me out of panic mode, and I rushed to pull out my spear, but the tough carcass of the animal refused to surrender my weapon.
Once again, I ran for my life.
The other side of the river harbored a set of steep hills with slippery rocks emitting a faint smell of ammonia; the unknown had proven deadly, but between it and the wrathful angel, I decided to test my chances.
Looking back, I couldn’t see him anymore, but in my mind, I could feel an intruder.
Analyzing my thoughts, knowing the core of my being, predicting my movements.
I felt a sharp pressure in my head; I couldn’t escape.
A being that doesn’t need to touch you to kill you, to play with you.
Desperation and fear took over my body, and I just climbed.
Among the rocks and dozens of hills, it was hard to find me, but he could feel me, I knew that, I could also feel him in my mind.
I felt his fury, his anger.
He told me everything you know, everything he would do to me when he found me.
In a sophisticated and forgotten language, but for some reason, I understood.
I just huddled among the rocks and cried, the danger increasing every minute, and in a ridiculous act of desperation, I prayed for mercy.
Which is the worst thing you can do with an angel nearby; it’s like sending a signal up saying, ‘I AM HERE.
After that, he easily found me. I thought I was going to die, but he wouldn’t spare me from torment so easily.
With his perfect, gleaming teeth, he grabbed me, and I was taken toward the spire, toward his nest.
Angels are like cats; they love to play with their prey.
I was bound to a rock on one of the protrusions of the spire, hundreds of meters from the ground.
He would disappear for days, return, and slowly feed on me, relishing in my suffering.
I thought I would be condemned to this for the next few years, and I would be, were it not for a fortunate surprise.
One day, after a fruitful session of torture by my captor, I was awakened by gentle touches on my head.
Before me, covered in dirty rags, boots made from the skin of some animal previously unknown to me, and a strange metallic mask, stood the first Sinner I had seen in hell.
The library is closing, and this chair is killing my back, so I guess this is where I’ll stop for today.
Remember, Hell is a deceitful place; never let yourself believe in false promises of salvation.