Lost in Hell (496 hits)
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Submitted by QuinnTheEskimo (View user info) at 2009-04-12 16:44:57 EDT
http://www.ubersite.com/m/121378
For about a year now I've been writing a series about a few sinners (Irwin the narrator, Norman, and Penelope) that are lost in Hell. The link will take you to part seven, and the rest are linked there. They were waiting to be assigned eternal torture when an army of demons charged past, leaving them very confused. They journeyed into Hell to see if they could learn what was happening, where they met up with some terrible monsters, and a group a lost souls led by Christian Freeman and Chuck, who informed them that Satan is lost and no longer leading Hell, and that two different factions of demons are battling for dominance. Together these lost souls have journeyed to Hell's Prison, Mouldew, in order to free other lost souls to build an army to tame Cerberus, in order to use the three-headed dog to kill Sadistic Sam, the de facto leader of Hell in Satan's absence. And now, our story.
Lost in Hell
As we drew closer to the prison it began to look more like a cluster of ruins than any sort of organized building. From the highest wall to the lowest parapet, bricks had crumbled away and left the whole place looking jagged. From the higher more intact walls, chains were hanging with rings on the end that appeared just big enough for a human neck. The wall to our left was the most deteriorated, so much so that it was almost nonexistant. Before us there was a huge yet decrepit door made of wood so encrusted with mold that it appeared black, held together by orangish-red rusting iron hinges. When we were within a few yards of it we all stopped without speaking.
The whole place was silent as a grave. Chuck's face was set grim as he stared at Christian. Norman, Penelope and I searched with our eyes for any other kind of entrance, until Christian simply walked up to and knocked on the door. The great wooden barrier swung open silently. From inside a smell like fetid sewer water struck out at us, and there was the sound of dripping of water somewhere inside. Christian stepped inside the prison, followed by Norman, then Chuck, and then the rest of us in a tight group.
I was watching the door with both eyes, staring at it, waiting for it to slam shut behind us like in a horror movie. Yet it remained open as if it was trying to lure us back outside into the open air of Hell. The first room inside of the prison was huge, open, with great holes in the stone cieling through which you could see the black sky above. Water dripped down slowly from the cieling which was covered in mold nearly as black and bleak as the sky. On the far of the room there was a wall with eight doors, smaller versions of the great front door.
"Last time I came I came alone, and there was but one door." Christian said, looking confused.
"There are eight of us, and eight doors. Should we split up?" Norman asked.
Penelope gasped. "And risk facing Sam alone? I will not!"
"We are not here to face Sam," Christian said. "Not if we can help it. We are here to gather more souls to our cause, to tame Cerberus and use him to slay Sam. I do think we should split up, but we should do it in pairs."
Everyone's focused shifted to Christian. He paired us up, two by two. I was paired with Chuck, and I was glad for it. Although Chuck said he was afraid he rarely showed it. When the group turned back to the wall, there were only four doors.
"What kind of place is this?" Norman asked.
"Hell." Chuck said. The pairs eached moved to a door, a few of us shot glances at our friends and fellow lost souls. We were in Hell. Everything here was either trying to torture us or destroy us forever and the only way to escape that was to fight back. We knew that our only option was to keep moving forward with our plan but the prospect of eternal torture was a dark one.
Chuck opened our door. I peered inside. This was clearly not a doorway into a different part of the prison. For lack of a better word I can only descibe it as some kind of portal. Beyond the door I could hear wind blowing and the sounds of some great body of water. I almost turned to mention this to the others, but they were gone and their doors were shut. I turned to Chuck and opened my mouth to speak but before I could I felt powerful invisible hands tugging at me, pulling me into the gateway.
Chuck was bracing both hands on either side of the door. I was clinging to the open door and to Chuck, both of us red in the face from the strain on our bodies. The force pulling us in grew stronger until we could no longer resist. Chuck's arms buckled. My grip gave way. We tumbled into the door and this time it did slam shut behind us. We were alone and lost in Hell.
As soon as we were through Chuck and I immediatly returned to the door, but on this side of the portal the door wasn't attached to anything. It was standing alone in the sandy beach of the great body of water that I had heard in the prison.
"Where in Hell are we, Chuck?" I asked him, looking around.
Chuck laughed and sat in the sand. "I don't give a fuck. I'm just glad to be out of the prison, away from Sam."
"We should get moving, we need to find our way back."
Chuck shrugged and stood. We had gone a little way when I decided to kneel by the water and see if I could drink. I reached into the river with a cupped hand, and when i pulled it back and ethereal hand was clinging to me. I shouted and fell backwards, crab-walking away, but the hand still clutched me, attached to an arm, attached to an ethereal body, pale and ghost-like with a look of hopeless dispair on it's face.
"What is this place!?" I screamed. Chuck raised his holy weapon and struck the apparition, and it dissapated like a puff of Norman's cigarettes.
"What the fuck was that?" I asked, my voice shaking.
"I hope I'm wrong," Chuck said. "But I think this is the river Styx."
"Why do you hope you're wrong?" I asked.
"Because Cerberus lives on the river Styx."
And both of us looked to the other side of the river.
There, staring at us with erect ears, was a single head of the great dog. It barked at us, and even from across the water I could smell the foul rot of its breath. The other two heads rose slowly as the beast took to its feet. Chuck and I were still for just a moment before taking off down the river, our feet digging into the damp sand. The dog pursued us for a while at a loping pace, barking and frothing at the mouth.
"What do we do, Chuck?" I asked, panting as we ran from the dog.
"For now," He panted back, "We run."
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