Hey, real quick, if you're listening, press that pause button after I'm
done saying what I'm saying, and please follow, like and leave a review
for the podcast. Once again, this really helps the podcast out and getting
seen more. It's not as fast as press in the heart button on TikTok,
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Thanks, and now time to start your story goodbye. As part of
a Tommy Boyd production, Tales is a podcast created to bring short stories to
life. These stories will be brought to you by a number of authors and
narrated by yours truly, with some help from other amazing voice actors and actresses.
So bunker in, start that fire, hold your loved one close,
and into the sorry gredients. Listeners, thank you for joining me for the
third part of my hellish odyssey. If you've stuck with me this far,
you'll realize it isn't going to get any easier. When I last left you,
I was curled up in a ball and crying into my hands, having
reached breaking point. It was only my ever present and dedicated guide and protector
who brought me to this point, saving my ass and physically dragging me into
the elevator after my emotional breakdown on the streets of this That was level five
anger, and I still had four left to go. By this stage in
my journey, several things had become apparent to me. Firstly, I was
trapped in as hell and the only way out was to progress through all nine
levels or circles, just as Dante had done so many centuries before. The
attendant had been clear on this. There were no shortcuts or easy escapes,
only pain and suffering. The deeper we descended, the worst levels became,
and the greater the risk to both my physical body and my immortal soul.
My second revelation was that this hell was very personal to me. On each
and every level, I'd encounter a deceased family member or friend, all trapped
in their own tortuous circle of pain and fear. Each ghost I'd encountered brought
painful memories with them, reminders of my often tragic family history, not to
mention the many failures I'd made or in my long life. I feared who
I would run into next. Let's just say there were a lot of more
skeletons in my closet, but this wasn't what frightened me the most. Calling
what you will, Satan, the devil Lucifer, he was real and very
much aware of my presence in this twisted kingdom. True, he hadn't struck
me down yet. This was thanks to the Attendant, my guide and hopefully
my savior. I still didn't know who he was or why'd he'd been assigned
the task of guiding me through hell. He'd implied on several occasions that he
served Almighty and was granted some degree of the Vine protection, but it seemed
the shielding was waning the lower we descended. I had a little doubt that
the Devil was merely bidding his time, toying with us like a cat would
play with a mouse, just waiting for his opportunity to strike the killer blow.
I barely had time to compose myself when the elevator hit the next level
and I heard the dreaded ping. But I know that cowering in a corner
wasn't an option. The Attendant wouldn't allow it, and despite the hell I'd
been through, I wasn't ready to give in. So I took a deep
breath, wiped the tears from my face, and stood up facing the lift
door as it automatically slid open. Now what can I say about this new
level? Well, when one imagines how, the first thing you think of
is extreme heat. This hadn't been my experience to date, but when a
door opened a level six, it hit me hard, a stifling, almost
unbearable heat that took my breath away. Once I recovered from my initial shock,
I looked out on what appeared to be a subterranean tunnel, dark and
restricting, illuminated by burning torches of fixed to the rocky walls. Level six
heresy. The attendant patiently explained, this hellscape is located with an elaborate of
tunnels and subterranean chambers underneath the unholy city of this This is where the unrighteous
burn for all eternity as punishment for their mortal souls. I see, was
my response, as I wiped the sweat off my shoulder and tried to regulate
my breathing, and we walked out into the tunnel. The intense wave of
heat only grew worse as we muddled through the dark passageways, and I struggled
to keep up as my guide led the way. Thankfully, we didn't walk
for long until we reached the tunnel's end, but any small relief I felt
disappeared when I observed the hellish underground chamber before us. The cave was huge
and looked like a subterranean cathedral, adorned with fiery torches and burning embers.
The cave's wall were easily a hundred feet high, but those walls were not
bear far from it. When I looked up, I was horrified by what
I witnessed. Thousands of open tombs in case within the rocks, each containing
the body, all strapped into their coffins to prevent them from fallen. So
many damned souls, all imprisoned in this twisted cathedral, awaiting a fate so
horrific I couldn't imagine. I forgot about the stifling heat for a moment as
I walked deeper into the chamber, mesmerized as I looked upon a thousand different
faces. At first I thought they were already dead. Their eyes were all
closed and none of them were moving. But suddenly they all came to life,
awakening to find themselves trapped in this hell, each one encased in their
own personal coffin. They screamed as one struggling in vain against the restraints and
pleading for help from no one in particular. Their pain cries were deafening,
forcing me down on my knees as I crawled up from the boar and covered
my ears, but I couldn't draw them out the horrific ben. The screens
were so intense that I felt my head would explode. But then, thankfully
they came to an end as a thousand damned solves all fell silent. I
wondered what hellish force had subdued them, but feared I would find out soon
enough. I cautiously looked up to survey the scene and picked out a familiar
face from the coffins, a holy man who dramatically fallen from race and had
certainly earned his place in hell. I'm sure you'll not be surprised to learn
that I was never particularly religious, but there was a brief period during my
childhood when I attended a Catholic reform school. And how much you're thinking,
and yes, this was a desperate attempt to put me on the street in
an arrow. My stint occurred in my early teens, and during a period
when my mother was briefly sober enough to take some parental responsibility. Need Less
to say, I didn't want to go and was determined to raise Hell,
planning to get myself kicked out so I could get back to running the streets.
So in all likelihood I wouldn't have lasted long anyway, but I couldn't
have anticipated father Connolly and the impact he would have on my life. I
wasn't surprised to find an old priest here, however, nor did I feel
any sympathy for the bastard. Quite the opposite. In fact, he was
one of the bad ones you see, and Hell was weird he belonged.
I'll admit to feeling a grim satisfaction as I walked over to the entombed prisoner,
confront him face to face after all these years. Well, well,
father Connolly, I sneered, how the mighty have fallen? This is quite
the place you've retired to. The old priest struggled in pain against his binds,
his eyes bulging and his face red with rage as he looked me over
with total contempt. And who the hell are you? He spatted angrily.
His abrupt reply took the wind out of my sails somewhat, but I was
determined to make him face up to his crimes. So you don't remember me,
father, I guess I shouldn't be surprised you had so many boys back
in a day, after all, but let me give you a reminder.
You still have that scar of your thigh. There followed a sudden spark of
recognition and anger in his eyes as a painful memory came to mind. You
little shit, he swore, again, fighting against his restraints in a feudal
attempt to get at me. As you've probably already guessed, Father Colony exploited
his position in the school to abuse young boys. I don't know how many
kids he heard, but when he tried to touch me, the old bastard
got what was coming to him. I knew exactly what he was up to,
and so I stabbed the pervert in the leg with a letter opener.
Not bad, except I was aiming for his growing. The police were called,
and you can guess whose story they believe. Connolly claimed I'd attack him
without provocation, and I got sent to a driven out attention censor for the
next two years. Any chance I had at going straight went out the window
after that incident. As for Father Colony, he continued to work at the
school and abuse boys for many years before the cops finally caught up with him.
I heard he was facing a dozen of charges, but I guessed the
pervert couldn't stomach go into jail because he hung himsel self before the trial.
Connolly thought he was escaping justice, but instead he'd end up here a hell
of his own making. I couldn't help a smile when I considered the irony,
But this irony seemed lost to father Connolly as he continued his furious triad
against me. Almost choked up upon hearing his hateful words. Was he fucking
serious? You think you can judge me? I screamed, after all the
evil shit you've done, I am a servant of God. Connolly replied firmly.
You do not serve our Lord, and you never did. That was
the attendant, who'd remained silent up to this point, merely observant our exchange
from a distant His tough rebuttals seemed to knock the stuffins out of the former
priest. I watched with some satisfaction as his eyes widened and his head dropped.
When Connolly spoke again, his voice was meek and resigned, perhaps so
he muttered, I guess I am where I belong. I suppose this was
the closest I would get to an emission of guilt, but it wasn't enough.
I wanted to challenge colony further, but the attendant stopped me, grabbing
my arm and pulling me back. We should leave. You don't want to
be present for the next part. I did want to see the perverts suffer,
but knew better than to go against my guide's instruction, so I backed
away, following the attendant across the burning coals of fiery chamber. We'd reached
the far side of the cave when I heard the god awful shriek, surely
followed by the heavy clamber of a huge creature tearing its way down the adjacent
tunnel and into the hellish cathedral. The creature's body was illuminated by the fires,
and I was truly horrified by what I saw. The beast took the
form of a giant red serpent, easily for you to fifty feet in length.
Its green predatory eye's focused as it's daggered like fangs extended out of its
vast jaws. The beast thankfully ignored us as it slid across the chamber,
making its way towards the entombed prisoners, who were helpless to resist or escape.
The screams started afresh in that moment, even worse than before. I
swore I could hear Colony voice amongst the hellish chorus as he screamed, Dear
God, please save me. Predictively, his prayers went unanswered. I thought
the giant serpent would the voreous victim in its mighty jaws, but the reality
was far worse. When it opened its mouth, the beast spat out a
wall of flames, a naypalm like stream, which burnt the heretics alive,
consuming their flesh and soulden an unholy fire. The beasts worked quickly, in
efficiently, and soon Colony and other sinners were engulfed in a fiery infernal The
smell was horrific and the heat unbearable. I feared we would burn as the
chamber was consumed by fire. Above course and elevator door had miraculously appeared in
the rocks, permitting our escape to the next level. I cough and sputtered
as I dived inside a lift alongside the attendant casting one last look at the
fiery hell as the doors closed and we descended once again to an uncertain fate.
I was still choking on excess smoke when we reached level seven and where
face were yet another fiery and barely survivable environment. We walked out under a
red sky and into a landscape scarred by jagged rocks. The attendant pointed me
towards a distant river which flowed through the dead land and indicated that we should
walk towards it. I saw deeply struggling with every step due to the intense
heat. As the sweat poured off me. Not only were the levels getting
more dangerous, but the physical condition would becoming intolerable. Honestly, I didn't
know how much more of this I could take. When we reached the riverside,
I saw there was something very wrong. The river which flowed through the
hellscape was not one of water, but of blood, a boiling crimson tide
that was sickening to witness. I saw figures appeared on boath side of the
blood river, dozens of men gathering and forming up into tight formations. The
zombie like dammed sold with soldiers trained and experienced killers in life, now trapped
in this hellish state. Level seven is violence. The attendant explained, these
spirits will not harm us as long as we do not interfere. When I
looked upon the arrival armies, I recognized their uniforms and weapons. On the
right side of the river stood a company of s s storm trippers, clad
in black uniforms and steel helmets, the lightning bolt symbol displayed prominently. All
were armed with submachine guns or rifles and bayonets affixed. Facing off against them
on the left side were Mongolian warriors from the time of the Khans, clad
in traditional armor and armed with bows and arrows. It seemed like a gross
mismatch, but I wasn't sure whether the normal rules of war applied here in
hell. The two sides screamed at each other and men in piercing inhuman war
cries that drowned out every other sound, And then they opened fire at each
other, with bullets and flaming arrows flying across the bloody river. Men screamed
as they were cut down, reeling in agony on the hot rocks. About
a third had fallen on both sides before they charged each other. Wading into
the river of blood. Their uniforms burned off and their skins began to melt,
but this didn't stop the manic warriors from advancing. I watched on in
shock and horror as the survivors tore into one another, fighting viciously hand to
hand and slicing chunks out of their enemies with bayonets and swords. What struck
me about the battle, other than a brutal savagery, was the sheer futility
of it all. Neither side could win this skirmage, as their bodies literally
solved in the boiling blood. We continued to observe until the last warrior disintegrated
and the battle cries faded away to nothing. And so we may proceed,
said the attendant. Once again, he used his mysterious powers, clicking his
fingers to magically summon an arch bridge into existence, allowing us to cross the
river of Boiling Blood. I was cautious as we walked the bridge, looking
down at the crimson tide below, and fearing what would become of me if
I fell in. But we got to the far bank in one piece and
proceeded across the hot rocks. We hadn't made it far before running into another
ruckist. When the senting down a hillside, we observed a trio of creatures,
half man and half horse, circling around a helpless victim, laughing and
mocking as they stomp on him with their hoofs. The attendant wasn't having this,
however, as he advanced upon the group with determination, shouting at the
centaurs as he went, be gone, you file vermin, leave him be.
The centaurs appeared to be typical bullies as they retreated in fear when confronted,
quickly galloping away while leaving their wounded victim in their wake. We went
to assist a stricken man, and predictably it was someone I knew. He
looked up at me through his swollen eyes, struggling to speak through his split
lips. Oh well, look what the cat dragged. Then he finally ready
to apologize to me as whole. I lowered my head and was consumed with
guilt. The man bleeding on the ground in front of me was called Jason.
He was another member of our old street gang and one time was my
best friend. We stuck together after the other gang members went their own way
and graduated to more serious crimes such as on robbery. We were a real
comikaza unit back then, taking crazy risks as we took on more dangerous jobs.
One night, we planned to hit a twenty four hour liquor store,
but I had a bad feeling about the job and pulled out at the last
minute. I try to call Jason and tell him to abort the robbery,
but I guess he didn't get the message. Because a crazy Bassett went in
solo. The results were tragically predictable. Without having me to cover his back.
Jason lost his cool and open fire, shooting dead a cashier and security
guard. The cops called him red handed the same night, and Jason was
convicted of two counts of capital murder, receiving a death penalty. They kept
Jason on death row for five years before he finally got the legal injection.
I didn't visit him, not even once, so he'd every right to be
pissed with me. Hey man, I finally whimpered, after an awkward pause,
Are you okay? Jason snared and disgusted. You mean the beating,
That's nothing, man. They kicked the shit out of me every day,
breaking my bones and cracking my skull and the next morning, I'm fully healed,
ready for the next beating. Still, I got off easy today,
so I guess I should thank you and your friend for that. I shook
my head and wasn't able to meet my deceased friend's eyes. I'm sorry,
Jason, you don't deserve this. Jason tried to shrug his shoulders, but
wasn't too much pain to do so. Well. I did kill two people,
there's no getting away from that. But if you'd been there to cover
my back, the job could have gone down differently. But what really pisses
me off is those years I spent on death row. He didn't visit,
didn't even write. What the fuck? Man? We used to be tight,
and you fucking abandoned me. I felt an immense shame because I knew
he was right. There were no excuses I could make for abandoning my friend,
no matter what he'd done. I'm sorry, man, I guess I
felt guilty and couldn't face up to it. I should have come to see
you to set things right. Jason smiled through his bleeding lips. It wouldn't
have done much good. It had given me the needle anyway, But I
still appreciate getting an apology at last, Hey man, can you help me
up? I reached out instinctively to take his hand, forgetting that there was
nothing I could do to help him. As soon as our hands touched,
his body burnt up and vanished in front of my eyes. I saw in
despair, but it was too exhausted to shed a tear. We stood in
quiet, contemplating for a time before the air was filled with a familiar,
sadistic laughter. I looked up into the red sky and saw a hideous face
and verge from the clouds that grewsome hornhead of the demon, eyes red and
full of malice and hatred the devil. I'd almost forgotten about Satan, but
should have realized he was still watching, enjoying I was suffering and growing ever
stronger as we grew weaker. He opened his gaping more to reveal rolls of
shark like teeth and called out in a booming voice, which carried across the
void. Friends, no woods, hard so full. I turned around to
look upon my guide, noting the fear in his bulging eyes. A moment
later, and the ground beneath our feet began to shake, throwing both of
us off our feet. The powerful earthquake only increased in intensity as a rocky
surface cracked open, exposed us a dark void below. I screamed in terror
and looked at my guide for help, but I saw him calling into the
gap like a helpless rag doll. I tried to get back on my feet,
but couldn't stand as the ground could lapse around me, and I fell
into the void, crying out as the darkness took me. I awoke lying
in the dirt, looking up to find myself in the middle of a dark
forest. My limbs ache as I adjusted my eyes and pulled myself up.
Surveying my new environment, the sinister woods reminded me of the first level Limbo.
It seemed like an eternity since I visited there for a brief moment.
I dared to hope that we were near the end, but my optimism was
misplaced. I searched in the darkness of my guide discovered him lying face down
on the dirt. This was this concern, and to say the least.
As I sensed his strength was waiting, I shook the old man awake and
helped him to his feet, noticing how frail and exhausted he now appeared.
Thank you, he responded, where are we? I inquired? My hope
now baden. We are still on level seven, answered the attendant. Regrettably,
violence contained three sublevels. This is the second. He paused, briefly,
cautiously surveying the tree line, as if expected an attack at any moment.
We must proceed with extreme caution from here on. Lucifer's power is and
now has the ability to physically harm us. His words chilled me. But
we're no surprise, a sense that I would need to take more responsibility as
we went forward. My guide couldn't always be there to save me. We
advanced slowly under the darkened canopies, and as always I had the uncomfortable feeling
that we were being watched. I could hear the agonizing cries of the dam
from all around us, a hellish chorus of pain, fear and misery.
And there was another sound, too, one of a distant shrieking creatures,
calculing and snarling. Whilst circling somewhere about the trees. I tended to think
what monstrosities were admitting these hideous cries. The scream of the dam grew ever
louder the deeper we walked into the forest. At first I thought the cries
came from disembodied spirits, but then I made a horrifying discovery. The trees
and bushes were alive, with twisted human faces embedded within the barks and foliage,
their mouths emitting the blood curdling screams. My God, I exclaimed in
horror. Yes, the attendant confirmed, we bear witness to the punishment of
this sub level. Souls transformed into trees and plants, unable to move or
escape their tormentors. I felt ill as we continued our hellish march, and
the awful din filled my ears. I couldn't bear to look upon the tormented
faces. Their pain was too much. I lowered my head and tried to
plow through, but then a familiar voice called out to me, stopping me
dead in my tracks. I hesitantly turned my head to face a small tree
opposite me and sort of face embedded within the bark, tears rolling from its
eyes and its mouth opening and closing. As a tormented soul called out my
name, my stomach turned as a bad memories flooded back. The trapped soul
was that of my ex girlfriend, Raquel, A troubled young lady who'd met
a tragic end. I met Raquel in my early twenties, and we began
a passionate but chaotic relationship soon after. I was a career criminal by this
point in my life, a hard man, unholy terror on the streets.
Raquel's upbringing was similar to my own, unstable and frequently violent. She was
beautiful and sexy on the surface at least as tough as nails, but there
was also a vulnerability to her. In truth, Raquel was emotionally unstable and
prone to violent outbursts. She also had substance abuse problems, and looking back,
I guess Raquel had a lot in common with my late mother. A
psychologist could probably have a field date with that information, but I didn't see
it at the time. Our relationship was viatile to stay the release if we
weren't fucking each other's brain out, we ended up tearing chunks out of each
other. I couldn't give for the stability that she needed, and in truth,
my behavior probably has in her mental deterioration. Therefore, I can't help
but feel guilty over what happened. Raquel had a son from a previous relationship,
Tommy was his name, and I guess he was about five or six.
I never had much of an interest in him, to be honest,
my lifestyle wasn't exactly compatible with being a committed stepfather. Meanwhile, Raquel's went
to ship very fast. We split up after a massive fight, and she
hadn't taken it well, hitting the booze hard. Around the same time,
social services began investigating and were threatening to take Tommy into care. I guess
this pushed Raquel to a breaking point because what she did next was beyond horrific.
One night, she poured a bath for her son and held his head
under the water until he stopped breathing. Next, she downed a lethal combination
of vodka sleeping pills before Colin nine one one but a time the cops and
paramedics arrived, they were both dead. The debts were ruled and murder suicide
of the worst kind. A mother who killed her own child before ending her
life. I guess Raquel thought that would be the end of it, but
she hadn't anticipated an eternal damnation in its hellscape. I reluctantly walked closer to
the tree containing Raquel's soul, put in my ear next to her mouth in
an attempt to hear her words, but it was no good. I reckoned.
The torment she'd suffered must have driven Raquel insane, as her cries were
nothing but incoherent nonsense. I still felt some sympathy for my ex girlfriend in
spite of the terrible crime she committed, and so I reached out to touch
the bark, hoping that her physical presence would disintegrate into ash. But it
didn't. I stepped back upon hearing the awful streets from above, as winged
creatures dived through the canopy and toward the trees, leaves, branches embarked with
sharp fangs and claws. When I looked closer at the wing monsters, I
saw that they were the same red scaled harpies I observed on the walls of
this flying demons, which took pleasure inflicting misery and Era and Raquel felt the
pain as the harpies tore into the trees which had replaced her physical body,
as if every branch that was broken was like losing a limb. Her screams
were horrific, and I couldn't bear to watch. The attendant touched me gently
on the shoulder, whispering in my air. There's nothing we can do.
We must move on. Every moment we spend here places us in greater danger.
I turned around to see a new elevator sitting and waiting in the middle
of the woods, the door already opened. I cast one last glance back
at the terrible scene, seeing the ravenous harpies ripping the tree to shreds.
The demons cackle cruelly as Raquel's scream in terror and agony. I shed a
tear for her before following my guide into the lift, feeling relief as the
door slam shut and the hellish dim thankfully ended. The third sub level of
violence was undoubtedly the worst yet. When the door slid open, we were
faced with a seemingly endless desert of red sands, and from the dark clouds
above poured what looked like a rain of fire, with spit and flames fallen
against hot sands. I took one look at the latest hellscape and turned to
my long suffering guide, and disgust practically shouted in his air, we can't
cross that will never make it. The attendant shook his head in resignation.
The light from his eyes fading as he sighed, alas we must. The
environment will be difficult, and we will experience pain, But our time here
is only temporarily. Think of the damned soul's trap here for all eternity,
a terrible punishment, regardless of the sins they committed an immortal world. The
attendant stepped out first, and I reluctantly followed. But as soon as I
exited a lift, my feet burned under the hot sands, and the fiery
raindrops hit my head and face, burning my head and skin. Somehow I
found the strength to go on, taking the attendants hand and helping him across
the inhospitable desert. As we walked, I saw other figures around us,
all semi naked and struggling to deferring degrees. Some were still standing, although
I could tell their bare feet were burning with every step. Others had given
up altogether, fallen face down into the sand. But there was no respite
for the damned, as they continued to scream in agony, their flesh burning
fiercely, and their minds driven to madness. The Attendant was right. Our
pain and misery was nothing compared to what the damned were suffering. But when
I looked down and saw a man I recognized, and any sympathy I might
have felt disappeared. Danny, you motherfucker, I swore, resisting the urge
to laugh out loud. When I saw the man's peeling red skin and blackened
feet, I experienced a grim satisfaction because, in my opinion, this bastard
deserved everything he got. Danny was my mother's own and off boyfriend over several
years, and he was a canst who'd passed in my family's demise. He
first came into the scene after my father left and soon enabled my mom's substance
abuse problems. I hated the guy and spent as much time out on the
streets as I could, in part to avoid him. The situation grew worse
after Sarah died. It was Danny who got Mom hooked on heroine, and
before long he was pimping her out for profit. Eventually I put an end
to the sick arrangement, kicking the shit out of Danny and throwing him out
of the house, but he had other girls on the hook and continue to
operate as a low life pimp and dealer until ultimately he got taken out by
a rival cut down a dry by shooting, and now he was here,
burning for all eternity. He glanced up at me with desperate eyes, opening
his bone dry lips, and mountain. The words helped me. I experienced
a twing of doubt in that moment. As vile as Danny was, I
wonder whether he really deserved this. But then I got my answer. She
appeared out of the sands, rise into the surface, and almost giving me
a heart attack. My little sister, Sarah accepted wasn't actually her show.
This entity took my sister's physical form, but when I looked into her once
innocent eyes, I saw something evil. She moved towards Danny, but kept
her eyes focused on me, and I couldn't look away, no matter how
much I wanted to. Danny turned his head, his eyes filled with terror
when he saw her approach. Oh God, he cried, falling to his
knees and submission. I was horrified to witness the entity masqueradeing and Sarah physically
grow as it approached, transforming from a little girl into a monster easily twelve
foot tall. Her eyes were pure black, like those of a shark,
and her jaw opened wide, revealing a gaping dark hole, and when she
spoke, her voice was inhuman and terrifying. You were my big brother,
she screeched. I stent you. She was talking to me, of course,
and her words were like dagger through my heart. You know what he
said to me, she added, pointing her huge finger towards the wretched Danny
in your heart. You always known all those nights you were out on the
streets and mama was strung out on trucks. That's when he came to me,
and I was alone in my bad scared and helpless. I shook my
head and angry tears round down my cheeks. No, I don't believe you.
This is a trick, But deep down I knew she was telling the
truth. I'd let my sister down, leaving her alone with this monster.
I glared with fury at Danny, now sniveling pathetically as he pleaded for mercy.
The rage inside of me was overwhelming. I stepped forward, determined to
rip the fuck a limb for limb, But Sarah, or whatever the health
she was, acted first. I watched on in horror as her jaw dislocated
and opened up to an enormous size. The creature that emerged no longer bore
any resemblance to my sister, and instead reminded me of a giant snake,
such as an a conda. Danny screamed as a monster attacked her, jaws
so wide that she would swallow his head whole. Danny's now muffled scream continued,
and he squirmed as the beast slowly but surely devoured him until there was
nothing left. And suddenly the beloated snake transformed once again, its shape and
body changing into that of a man. Except it wasn't a man, not
really. The figure that now stood on the sands was Lucifer himself, the
lord of Hell, here to taunt us again, or perhaps he planned to
end me once and for all. At this point, I hardly ever cared.
This latest revelation about my sister's suffering had nearly broken me. The devil
smiled crudely as he mocked us openly, whoa boyfriends, I think we've not
file to hardt me. In that moment, my anger overcame my fear as
I screamed that satan with pure rage, Fuck you, I swore. The
devil simply laughed, his hateful eyes filled with a malicious glee. Don't let
him provoke you, whispered the attendant, who snuck up behind me. I
noted how this harsh environment had resulted in a further deterioration in his physical state.
He was now so frail he could hardly stand protect. The devil mocked
what really trusted? What noble? He gusn't told you his story? Hardon?
I looked at my guide and saw he couldn't meet my eye. The
devil laughed again, louder this time. Click of my fingers, start to
two main levels to go drans to me what the two worked. In a
matter of seconds, the desert around us transformed into a whirlpool of red sand,
sucking up everything and pulling us down. I screamed in terror as I
felt the attendant tumbling alongside me, our helpless body swallowing up at a dark
abyss. I soon lost consciousness in the chaos and turmoil, knowing that I
would awake to face the horrors of level eight.