"Hellbound"
Posted 09-05-2008 at 10:36 PM by Heretic
1/2
On this day I passed away. Car accident... I think. Who knows. Didn’t see it comin’. That’s how it is I suppose. I would’ve jotted it all down for that whole, I’m dead... thing.
Bad as that is imagine my chagrin as things only got worse, or seem to. Not necessarily an atheist, I also didn’t join any religion. Well guess what. The ethereal judge decided that’s a fuckup as grave as murder. Yeah, this auditor of the living and the dead went through the books of my life, ran the numbers and found me coming up short. You can guess where things went from there.
Some of what I took hell to be proved correct. Not just hot, but FUCKING HOT and HOLY SHIT IT’s COLD all at once. But that’s just the start of misery. We’ve no reference point when the whole of your world is a flat wall with you the fly on it. That’s how things are here in hell. There’s no ground, but a wall. While we all stand on it as you would the ground you know down isn’t toward your feet. What passes for air freezes while the wall radiates searing heat.
Because we have no body we can’t be injured past the point of feeling pain from either of these much as we might like to. So we in hell feel pain and nothing but pain, in all its horrific forms, at their most pure. To avoid the most direct heat of the wall. All of us just scream, or would were we able to give voice to suffering. See, even to scream is a luxury that helps release pain. And any contact with the wall, which no one can avoid, causes the worst of burning pain, yet any separation induces the worse sensation of freezing. Every fiber of our condemned beings is being forever stabbed at by an infinite number of pins or knives. The slightest sense of trying to move turns into a flaying flesh we no longer have. Lacking skin means having it peeled and shredded from us never stops.
The wall glows with heat, but we can’t use it to se by. Strangely I get the sense this is for the better. Unable to see who exactly’s around me, or worse, what horrors lurk about me, I can’t recoil from them. It strikes me my only choice is to get use to all the pain. Though, as I said, I don’t have feet, I tried shifting what passes for stance to rotate one torture for another. Stillness causes one agony and motion another. The swapping between made both all the more heinously acute.
Out of nowhere it struck me I can mentally focus on the opposite torments. Initially, a flare up of dichotomies jolts me back into the ground state of wanting to scream it all out. However, a sheer lack of options pushes me back into the trick. By now eons could’ve passed. No one knows for sure "down" here. Once it occurred to me to wonder I then notice an intense explosion of light pouring across at the wall. With it comes a musical hum or buzz or- who knows, but it’s wonderful. It’d always been there, but my excruciation had been so distracting I didn’t realize nor care. A conic of rays possessing more beauty than I can imagine or recall- or it just seemed so, compared to being trapped in hell for so long.
That’s when I, for the first time, try to reach out to another eternal sufferer. Bare in mind I don’t have hands, but there’s something equivalent to such, because they never stop hurting in all ways possible and impossible. So touching the other makes it momentary worse for me and them. It throws me off my game of nullifying the many tortures. I do it again, and set them to noticing this light. No sense of communication could connect us, so I didn’t attempt any. But something passed, as this other person’s desire to scream seemed to diminish. They and I both went about letting others know about the light.
We all also realize what monstrosities sit among us. They feel hell’s pains as we do, but came to love them. In hell dwells one who leads the rest. And when it realizes what we’re all looking and listening to it starts gathering together us fallen and fiends alike. It says what’s in that light should be held responsible for our infinite torture and miserable hopelessness. Hell’s tyrant terrifies me as nothing else in hell can, and given what we deal with here, that’s saying something. It uses that fear to intimidate me into joining its crusade against the singing light.
Better to cope with the hell I know that risk angering heaven’s judge still more.
I tell the dictator of perdition no. it rails at me causing my resolve to weaken. However reluctantly I agree to be counted among its minions. To either side of me marches foul creatures no natural world could let evolve. Turns out they’re more numerous than all us punished sinners many times over. We leave the wall behind by a mean I can’t yet describe. Throwing aside the trick against pain, I set my sights for the light/song. That’s when an intense throb of a deep booming voice rattles my ethereal form. "NOT YOU."
Halting where I am I look back at hell’s sheer vertical face in dread. The voice wants me to stay, but the temptation of leaving it behind tears at me. I move toward the light again, finding the admonishing beacon issue nothing further. Except...
Its one warning gnaws at me. Frightened as I am of the universal head of all that it evil, I get a sense it might not notice my absence. Quite full of itself, it surely is, leading hell’s hordes onward. Its lieutenant enforcers likewise are so stoke by thoughts of retribution they hardly care about anything else.
So I slow down and skirt sideways to slip between fellow conscripts. Of the normal souls, or once normal, I attempt to draw them back with me. Most tell me off or threatened to inform on me. But a few explain their equivalent sense of foreboding. Not really looking forward to consigning ourselves to the rest of eternal torment, we nonetheless go back to the infinite wall of pain. We exchange our techniques of coping, while witnessing the vengeful masses parade into a climactic battle. The musical chromatic beacon swallows them all into that other, obviously better realm we missed out on.
continued...
On this day I passed away. Car accident... I think. Who knows. Didn’t see it comin’. That’s how it is I suppose. I would’ve jotted it all down for that whole, I’m dead... thing.
Bad as that is imagine my chagrin as things only got worse, or seem to. Not necessarily an atheist, I also didn’t join any religion. Well guess what. The ethereal judge decided that’s a fuckup as grave as murder. Yeah, this auditor of the living and the dead went through the books of my life, ran the numbers and found me coming up short. You can guess where things went from there.
Some of what I took hell to be proved correct. Not just hot, but FUCKING HOT and HOLY SHIT IT’s COLD all at once. But that’s just the start of misery. We’ve no reference point when the whole of your world is a flat wall with you the fly on it. That’s how things are here in hell. There’s no ground, but a wall. While we all stand on it as you would the ground you know down isn’t toward your feet. What passes for air freezes while the wall radiates searing heat.
Because we have no body we can’t be injured past the point of feeling pain from either of these much as we might like to. So we in hell feel pain and nothing but pain, in all its horrific forms, at their most pure. To avoid the most direct heat of the wall. All of us just scream, or would were we able to give voice to suffering. See, even to scream is a luxury that helps release pain. And any contact with the wall, which no one can avoid, causes the worst of burning pain, yet any separation induces the worse sensation of freezing. Every fiber of our condemned beings is being forever stabbed at by an infinite number of pins or knives. The slightest sense of trying to move turns into a flaying flesh we no longer have. Lacking skin means having it peeled and shredded from us never stops.
The wall glows with heat, but we can’t use it to se by. Strangely I get the sense this is for the better. Unable to see who exactly’s around me, or worse, what horrors lurk about me, I can’t recoil from them. It strikes me my only choice is to get use to all the pain. Though, as I said, I don’t have feet, I tried shifting what passes for stance to rotate one torture for another. Stillness causes one agony and motion another. The swapping between made both all the more heinously acute.
Out of nowhere it struck me I can mentally focus on the opposite torments. Initially, a flare up of dichotomies jolts me back into the ground state of wanting to scream it all out. However, a sheer lack of options pushes me back into the trick. By now eons could’ve passed. No one knows for sure "down" here. Once it occurred to me to wonder I then notice an intense explosion of light pouring across at the wall. With it comes a musical hum or buzz or- who knows, but it’s wonderful. It’d always been there, but my excruciation had been so distracting I didn’t realize nor care. A conic of rays possessing more beauty than I can imagine or recall- or it just seemed so, compared to being trapped in hell for so long.
That’s when I, for the first time, try to reach out to another eternal sufferer. Bare in mind I don’t have hands, but there’s something equivalent to such, because they never stop hurting in all ways possible and impossible. So touching the other makes it momentary worse for me and them. It throws me off my game of nullifying the many tortures. I do it again, and set them to noticing this light. No sense of communication could connect us, so I didn’t attempt any. But something passed, as this other person’s desire to scream seemed to diminish. They and I both went about letting others know about the light.
We all also realize what monstrosities sit among us. They feel hell’s pains as we do, but came to love them. In hell dwells one who leads the rest. And when it realizes what we’re all looking and listening to it starts gathering together us fallen and fiends alike. It says what’s in that light should be held responsible for our infinite torture and miserable hopelessness. Hell’s tyrant terrifies me as nothing else in hell can, and given what we deal with here, that’s saying something. It uses that fear to intimidate me into joining its crusade against the singing light.
Better to cope with the hell I know that risk angering heaven’s judge still more.
I tell the dictator of perdition no. it rails at me causing my resolve to weaken. However reluctantly I agree to be counted among its minions. To either side of me marches foul creatures no natural world could let evolve. Turns out they’re more numerous than all us punished sinners many times over. We leave the wall behind by a mean I can’t yet describe. Throwing aside the trick against pain, I set my sights for the light/song. That’s when an intense throb of a deep booming voice rattles my ethereal form. "NOT YOU."
Halting where I am I look back at hell’s sheer vertical face in dread. The voice wants me to stay, but the temptation of leaving it behind tears at me. I move toward the light again, finding the admonishing beacon issue nothing further. Except...
Its one warning gnaws at me. Frightened as I am of the universal head of all that it evil, I get a sense it might not notice my absence. Quite full of itself, it surely is, leading hell’s hordes onward. Its lieutenant enforcers likewise are so stoke by thoughts of retribution they hardly care about anything else.
So I slow down and skirt sideways to slip between fellow conscripts. Of the normal souls, or once normal, I attempt to draw them back with me. Most tell me off or threatened to inform on me. But a few explain their equivalent sense of foreboding. Not really looking forward to consigning ourselves to the rest of eternal torment, we nonetheless go back to the infinite wall of pain. We exchange our techniques of coping, while witnessing the vengeful masses parade into a climactic battle. The musical chromatic beacon swallows them all into that other, obviously better realm we missed out on.
continued...
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2/2
We hear nor see nothing about what came of them. Who can say for how long? Did they win? Maybe they’re living it up in a conquered heaven. Except I would’ve thought the devilish ringleader might’ve come to flaunt its victory in our faces and punish us for doubting its prowess. Possibly they lost and were celestially obliterated. In the confusion the forces of heaven simply overlooked us leftovers. Forgotten refugees in everlasting desolation, debilitation and misery. Then I’m struck by a peculiar thought. My tricks aren’t as hard to use to lesson the walls searing and the ambient freeze nor the biting, tearing, piercing inflictions. I point this out to others, who, many for the first time, also realize it’s not so bad. Still longer and the pains subside entirely. The wall illuminates all around us but no longer burns. We can see again. It’s been so long the brightness does hurt, but in a good way. All of us had forgotten what real sight had been. In fact hell is so well lit the one light, from which we all fell, never to reach again, seems to dim, grow dark and become its antithesis. I think back to that compelling order to stay and mention it to others. Seems we all heard and felt it. Possibly those who went in also did, but ignored the decree. It might be that heaven’s legions knew everyone would lose. We wait on then. Of course it does no good to contemplate the fate of heaven, for none of us will get our chance to go. We blew that went opting to stay. A twinge of hell comes again. I remind myself of the acclimatization I achieved and it readily fades. Really, hell’s not all that bad once you get use to it. And of course the Pitt’s master is nowhere to be seen, so naturally no one’s there to kick us around. We sinners get to know each other. Talking out what lead us here we still don’t learn what it is we could’ve done better to avoid our ultimate fates. I doubted a religion. Doubted all of them, really. And how could I not? In the sacred books and holy buildings of congregation I saw the fingerprints of man throughout. Its clergy evoking suspicion, their traditions subject to editorial review and nothing from on high to police any of it. Not only did no one reliable bothered to tell us the rules. Indeed we hadn’t known the game was on. Only too late did it occur to anyone of having scored low and failing. Seems failure became a universal force. One day- or whatever, something came out of the musical light, turned moaning dark. A magnificence the likes of which none had beheld in life or the afterlife. Vaguely, as if the memory were a Jurassic fossil, I reflected on the description of angels. Glistening feathery wings. Whatever they really used to fly the image works well enough. Its halo didn’t just flat over its head, instead served as its whole form. Descending to us on the formerly infernal wall it hadn’t come alone. More streamed through. An endless procession of sublime beings settling down as snowflakes. The nearest of these benevolent presences hovered before me. Merely gazing upon it brought on a coziness I dared no imagine feeling again. Positively giddy at the sensation I had to jar myself back to a confusing point whispering in my mind. "What’s an angel doing here? In hell? What? Did they kick you guys out?" I dared ask. No. Of course it didn’t actually speak, just as none of us do. The sense of communication we do have additionally didn’t emanate from the blessed one. Yet it conveyed knowledge despite it all. Seems there had indeed been a battle between ultimate dark and eternal light. At this moment I knew I beheld a foot soldier of the divine side. Heaven’s guardian. Only paradise fell under new management. Those cast out seized the higher domain for their own, and these marvelous custodians of salvation had left. Did they lose? Had this destination been a condition of their surrender? Maybe the vile vigilantes of darkness thought turnabout was just rewards for their own ostracism. No. Righteousness had triumphed by setting a trap... of sorts. Leaving heaven intact they simply walked away from the fight before a single blow could be struck. In fact prior to sighting the enemy they evacuated the celestial kingdom. What drew them here turned out to be due our making it a more pleasant domain. Hell’s henchmen strolled into their new domain unopposed. Hence the snare, for the suffering of sinners remains eternal regardless where. Any rebellious conquest does nothing more than bring that judgement along for the ride. For hell has no boundaries and heaven no confines. We take them with us wherever we go. THE END |
 
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Brought back by popular demand [one half of one request]!
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Thanks for the revival!
Absolutely no pun intended, whatsoever. Honest to goodness. |
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