As part of a Tommy Bird 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 boys,
actors and actresses. So bunker in, start that fire, hold your
loved one close, and enjoy. Are storytelling. We are story. Abandon
all hope ye who enter here. These are the ominous words which Dante claims
were engraved upon the gates of Hell, as told in his seminal work Inferno.
If you've read my precious accounts charting my own journey through Hell, you're
real that my experience was somewhat different to that of the famous fourteenth century Florentine
poet. I never saw this sign or read the inscriptions, and the stark
one wasn't exactly accurate. In my case, Dante and I have little in
common. We both were unfortunate enough to find ourselves trapped in hell and needed
to be guided through all nine circles in order to escape. That's where the
similarities end. However, by most accounts, Dante was a respectable figure,
a feigned poet, and a righteous man, and none of these descriptions applied
to me. After hearing my story, I realized that I didn't have a
good start in life. My childhood was chaotic and early tragedies nearly broke me,
resulting in my descent into violent crime. On each level of Hell I
visited, I was confronted by a ghost from my past, all bringing back
painful memories of lost and shame. It's debatable whether I was to blame from
some of the tragedies during my childhood, particular given the lack of my responsible
adult role models in early years. However, the sins I committed in my
later life are inexcusable, and sadly, my worst crime did come back to
haunt me during my descent through the eighth and ninth levels. You will learn
my worst secrets during this fourth and final part of my hellish odyssey. You
may well judge me, and I won't blame you. Perhaps I did deserve
to suffer the fates of the damned and share the suffering I was forced to
witness, and when the devil taunted me on Level seven, I'll confess that
I did just about lose all hope. The protection offered by my enigmatic guide
had faded, and now I was at Satan's mercy. I felt certain there
would be a final confrontation once we reached the lowest circle of hell, and
we would surely lose. But my bleak assessment wasn't entirely accurate. There is
always a glimmer of hope even in the darkest corners of the underworld, and
I am one of the luckiest one who got a second chance. I may
not be fully redeemed in the eyes of God, but at least I've been
granted the opportunity to make amends, and there would be a meaning to my
eternal existence that was so lacking in my mortal life. But I'm getting ahead
of myself. Let me begin where I left off at the end of level
seven. You'll recall that my God and I were sucked into a vortex,
pulled down to an uncertain fate as we were forced to listen to the devil's
hateful laughter and taunts. There was a swirl of chaos before everything went black,
and the next thing I remember was being shaken awake by the long suffering
attendant. I felt groggy as I glanced up at the old man, noting
how the spark in his eyes hadn't quite extinguished. He'd been on death's door
during ovo Arduris Trek through level seven, but appeared to have summoned an inner
strength. He helped me to my feet, and I got myself together and
surveyed our surroundments. We sat in front of what I can only describe as
a massive crater in the desert floor, a gaping hole in the ground that
must have been several miles in diameter. We were at the very edge of
the precipice, facing a steep drop. I didn't want to look into the
hellish voice, because I knew whatever was down there wouldn't be good. But
the attendant guided me to the very edge and prompt me to see what lay
below. What I saw was a vast cavern, many hundreds of feet deep
and shaped like a funnel with circular ledges descended down to what looked like a
body of water or ice at the bottom. The cavern was dark and deep,
but I could observe people or beings moving on each ledge, and I
heard god awful screams as thousands of damned souls cried out in pain and fear.
Level eight fraud. My guide explained his voice weary and croquy. Also
known as malbulge, it consists of ten bulges or ditches, each hold in
a separate class of sinner and administer in a unique form of punishment. As
the very bottom is level nine, our final destination. I shuddered as I
tried to come to terms with what I'd been told. We'd come so far
but still had a huge distance to cover, and I feared out What destination
was a hellscape beyond my worst nightmare. How do we get down there?
I asked, part of me, not wishing to know the answer, alas
we must climb down through each of the ten ledges. The attendant answered solemnly.
There were one's bridges and walkways one could use, but these were destroyed
long ago. The deeper one descends into hell, the greater the decay and
desolation. To my surprise, the attendant reached into his jacket and withdrew what
looked like an oil lantern, using it to eliminate the ground ahead of us.
He then sent an into the darkness, finding a rough and narrow pathway
cut into the side of the cavern. I followed in his wake, watching
my step carefully and praying I would not fall. The blood curling screams grew
worse as we descended, and it became quite impossible to drown them out.
We soon reached a substantial ledge about the width of a football pitch, which
I assumed was first sub level of malley bulge. At this point I could
hear pain cries and footsteps emanating from the darkness. The sounds interspersed with lashes
from a whip and the roar of something hideous. As if by magic,
the attendant was able to increase the light emanating from his lantern, thus revealing
the appalling scene before us. What I witnessed was a line of naked wretched
chained together, their bodies emaciated and back scarred by many lashes. They kept
their heads down as they marched single file in a circle, forced to walk
the circumference for all eternity. These poor wretcheds were overseen by monstrous beasts,
a horned demon with burning red eyes and hoofs instead of feet. The demon
was easily twenty foot tall, and he roared like a lion as he stomped
down the line, using a huge barbed whip to mercilessly beat his victims.
And force them to keep moving. The beasts noticed our presence briefly halted his
torture of the dam to glare down upon us, his eyes burning with pure
hatred as he lifted his whip and appeared ready to attack. In a panic,
I searched for an escape, but notice my guide was standing tall,
seemingly unafraid of the monstrous proof standing before us. The demon roared, exposing
rolls of razor sharp teeth. I noted how his bread stank of raw meat,
a foul stench which made me wretched. I felt sure he would attack,
but at the last moment, the demon withdrew his whip and stepped back,
grunt him loudly before we turn into the line, where he proceeded to
whip his victims would added anger and figure. I breathed a sigh of relief
as a guide offered an explanation, that is Malakota, leader of the thirteen
demons who patrol Level eight. These beasts will harass and threaten, but they
will not harm us, if only because our souls are promise to their master.
I shuddered upon hearing this, not knowing whether to feel relief or terror.
It seemed clear that the devil had special plans for us, and that
couldn't be good. We soon left Malakota and his victims behind as my guide
sought out and found the pathway leading down. I had time to think during
out with the scent and ask him a question. You say, Level eight
is fraud. This seems like a pretty tame sin compared to what we've seen
before. I winced upon remembering the twisted horrors of this and the burning sands
of violence, not to mention the sickening revelation the devils had revealed to me.
How can they justify such harsh punishment for this crime? The attendant nodded
his head and appeared deep in thought for a moment before he answered, in
hell, it is rare for the punishment to be proportionate to an immortal sin.
The devil has a twisted sense of justice, after all, But you'd
think of fraud and a literal or legal sense. Think instead of those who
peddle poisonous substances or ideas, and a thousands of lives they destroyed. These
are the type of people you final level eight. This will become clear to
you before we leave. I nodded my head in acknowledgment. He hadn't exactly
answered my question, but I knew this was as much information as I would
get from him, and based on previous experiences, I expected to encounter or
ghost from my past somewhere here on level eight. When we reached the next
ledge, the smell was almost unbearable, the fumes so toxic that I could
hardly breed. The attendance seemed unaffected by the foul stench as he lit up
the scene, revealing a literal river of shit which flowed in a circle.
To my horror, I saw many damned souls trapped in this foul stream,
desperately crying out in disgust before they sank under meat, their bodies consumed in
human escrement. Thankfully, we didn't stay long on this gross sub level as
my guide led us downwards, although the stent remained in my nostrils until we
reached the next circle. But the horrors inevitably grew worse as we made our
slow path downwards, ledge by ledge. I wished we could proceed in darkness
and at least be spared the appalling sights of torture and suffering, but the
attendant insisted on lightening up each and every sub level. It was as if
he wanted me to witness all the horrors in their entirety, to soak in
their brutal cruelty inflicted by the minions of Hell and the vile and twisted worlds
they created. The third ledge contained a circle of prisoners chained upside down against
the rocks, the bare soles of their feet burnt by hot oils carried and
poured by a team of calkline harpies. They clearly took joy in the suffering
of their victims. Number four was populated by people with their necks twisted unnaturally
by one hundred and eighty degrees so their heads faced backwards. They struggled to
walk the ledge, wandering aimlessly in circles as they searched in vain for some
respite. Occasionally, a disoriented victim would stumble over the edge, fall into
an uncertain fate. One woman staggered over to me, her bloodshot eyes full
of pain and fear. She tried to speak, but her vocal cords must
have been twisted beyond use, and so she could only mount her plead for
help. To my shame, I pushed her away and kept on moving.
Once my descend to the fifth ledge, the attendant put a firm hand on
my shoulder wanted me to stand back. What we witnessed was another river flowing
in a circle. This was one filled with what appeared to be burnt in
tar. There were people inside, their bodies melting as they struggled to keep
their heads above the surface. This was horrific enough, but what concerned me
more would the hideous creature's patrolling the river banks, demons of a similar shape
and size to Malakota, stomping along on their mighty hoofs and swinging grappling hooks
as they mocked and burned the victims. Somehow, one of the dam made
it to the shoreline and climbed out from the tar, but he didn't make
it far, soon being set upon by a trio of ravenous demons. I
watched in horror as they have fixed hooks to his body and pulled in opposite
directions, ripping the poor bastard into three parts. And as if that wasn't
bad enough, they proceeded to feast upon his raw flesh, greedily stuff in
their mouths. With his limbs, head and torsil until there was nothing left
Malakota's underlins. The attendant explained this passionately. They are underwaters, not to
harmer us, but sometimes their enthusiasm gets the better of them. We should
leave before we draw too much attention. Yep I agreed, not wishing to
witness any more of this sickening spectacle. But of course it only got worse.
At first glance, the sixth ledge appeared almost identical to the first,
with a single file line of chained prisoners slowly marching in his circle as they
were encouraged by a huge demon similar to Malakota. But on close inspection I
spotted several differences in how the damned were punished. While the sinners on the
first ledge were naked and emaciated, those on a sub level all wore heavy
body length coats adorned with heavy metal weights. Clearly they struggled to perform the
force march given the heavy burden they were forced to carry. From what I
could see, some of the victims could hardly stand let alone march. I
thought that at least their heavy robes would afford them some protection from the constant
beings, But then I realized something. The demon overseeing this ledge wasn't on
with a whip, but rather a long metal pole. I wonder what function
this implement was used for, but I soon found out when a prisonert faltered,
the demon struck out with the pole and a surge of electricity shot through
it. Operating much like a cattle prop. It proved to be the perfect
conductor for the electrical current, and the victim yelped out in agony as the
electricity shot through them. The demons cackled cruelly before moving on to its next
victim, pushing briefly to cast as a hateful glare, snarling aggressively before continuing
his grim task. We didn't linger, and soon rejoined the path through the
cavern. The seventh bulger turned out to be the most bizarre and twisted yet
It took me a moment to figure out what was going on. While the
previous levels were violent but ordered, this ledge appeared to be in an arnarchy.
As victims rank a muck in a blind panic, I soon realized why
hundreds, perhaps thousands, of bright red snakes were slittering across the rocks,
attacking every damn soul they could reach, leaping up and biden exposed skin their
venomous fangs plunging deep into their victim's flesh. The dam screamed out in pain
as they were but that wasn't the worst of it, because within seconds of
being bitten, these wretchedes began to physically transform. Their flabby skin turned into
hard scales, their limbs inexplicitly disappearing, and their heads transforming into dose of
serpents. Before long, all had morphed into grotesque monstrosities, half human and
half snake, and so they joined their former attackers, slittering aimlessly across the
rocks. There was no escape for the victims other than to jump off the
edge. I'd seen this happen before on the previous ledges and wondered what happened
to those who fell. I suspected it was nothing good. I was so
transfixed with watching the horrific scene that I almost missed the coming attack. I
heard an ominous hissing and looked down to see a snake rapidly approaching, its
dark eyes focused upon me, and its fangs extended, ready to bite.
I found myself frozen in fear, unable to shift from the spot as the
assault played out in slow motion, but Thankfully my guide and protector was on
the ball as he leaned forward and trampled a snake under his boot before reaching
out and snapping his spine with a single movement. Foul creatures, he said,
while briefly examining a body before tossing away, treacherous and full of venom.
Much like the souls condemned to this ledge, we should go. I
was impressed by the intended swift actions, particularly given how weak he seen back
in the seventh circle. Still, I couldn't shake my concern upbout my egnatic
guide. He didn't seem to have inherited a new burst of life, but
had rather tapped into a last reserve of strength, one that would surely run
out. Then there were the seeds of doubt planted in my head by the
devil. Who was the attendant? Really? What was history and motivation?
I really didn't know anything about him, not even his name. But on
the other hand, I had no idea what lay ahead, and so they
didn't think it was an option to go solo. Therefore, I continued to
follow a path he led me down. There was no need for the lantern
on the eighth bolga, as the entire ledge was lit up by bright flames.
Initially, the scene on this sub level reminded me of the sixth Circle
heresy, as before, the victims were in case and coffins built into the
rock walls chained up so they could not escape. On heresy, the dam
were incinerated by a fire riding dragon. This was not the case here,
as the flames emerged from inside the individual coffins like a form of spontaneous combuction.
But the punishment seen far worse than before, because the victim's agony was
extended well beyond what should have been physically possible. They burnt like lumps of
coal, Their bodies taken an eternity to disintegrene into ash, and the poor
bastards were conscious through it all, their awful screw bereams filling the air.
As my nostrils were filled with the foul stench of burning Fledge, I didn't
even ask what these people had done to deserve such a terrible fate. Frankly,
I didn't want to know. We'd been lucky up to this point,
observing the punishment and tortures inflicted upon others whilst escaping unscathed, But our luck
ran out on the night bolgie. When we walked out onto the ledge,
we witnessed a familiar sight, a line of down trodden and beaten sinners chained
together and walking in an endless circle around a precipice. The difference on the
sub level was that the sinners all had terrible wounds, deep cuts in their
skin and chunks of their flesh cut off. I soon saw the beasts who'd
inflicted these grievous wounds, yet under the horned and hooved demon, standing at
over fifteen feet in height and brandishing a flaming sword at least the length of
a man, which he used to inflict terrible injuries upon his victims, striking
out and slicing them like they were slabs of meat. But no matter how
hard a victim was hit and how severe their wounds, they kept on moving,
at most admitting a pained cry and stumbling before rejoining the circle and continuing
their feudal march. At first, the scene appeared to be nothing more than
another sickening sight to add to the menagerie of torture and suffering we'd already witnessed.
But the situation soon took a turn for the worst. The sword willding
demons soon spired us and reacted with rage to our presence in his realm.
I watch what concern as his eyes burned with fury and he roared, advancing
upon us with his sword raised. I remember what the intendant had said,
that the demons on this level wouldn't harm us because we were promised to their
master. But clearly this son of a bitch hadn't gotten that memo. He
charged at us, roaring louder as he swung his mighty sword. As always,
the attendant stepped forward, showing no fear as he stood his ground and
comfort front hit his attacker. I was sure he'd pulled something out of his
bag at the last moment and produced some magic trick to halt the demon's attack,
but his luck ran out. The demon sliced downwards with his sword,
seeking to cut his victim in half. Fortunately, the attendant moved at the
last possible second, falling backwards as the sword came down. I don't know
what came over me in that moment, but I experienced a surge of adrenaline
as I rushed forward, putting myself between the attacker and his victim. I
glared up at the beasts, meaning his hateful gaze and screaming out in defined
anger. Leave him alone, you ugly motherfucker. I didn't expect my rash
words to do any good, but surprisingly the demon seemed shaken by them.
His eyes widened and his sword drop, and he snarled at me before retreating,
returned into his work and tormented the trapped soles. I couldn't believe him.
My ruse had worked, and so I stood there in astonishment for a
moment before the attendant's pained groans brought me back to reality. Run back.
I kneeled down to be by his side and examined his wounds. The demon
hadn't succeeded and chopping my friend in half, but he had inflicted a nasty
wound from his chin to his adamant. It cut not so deep to be
immediately fatal, but certainly serious enough to disable the old man. But to
my surprise, the intendant actually smiled as he looked up at me and whispered
words of encouragement. You did well, my friend, he said. Your
choice of language was rather crude, but it had the desired effects. I
didn't dwell on what he said. Instead, examining a man's wound. You
can't go on like this, I stated, but I must, the attendant
replied, We are so close and soon my burden will be lifted. Now,
please help me to my feet. I didn't like it, but could
see no other choice but to comply with his wishes, and so I helped
them to his feet and supported him as he directed me towards the path leading
to the final sub level of the eighth Circle. I held the attendant up,
supporting his frame as he struggled on to the final ledge. I really
didn't know what to do at this point, and supposed I was just on
autopilot, having no other option but to trudge on. I do think there
was already a change in me. The old me might well have abandoned a
wounded attendant as a burden, but I didn't even consider this. The old
man had taken me so far, and I felt obligated to help him through
to the end. The last ledge didn't appear to contain any vengeful demons to
torment and abuse its victims, but only because this wasn't necessary. All of
the damned on the sub level appeared to be suffering from a wasting disease.
As their naked bodies were covered with unsightly sores and lesions. They struggled to
stand or walk the rocks as the mysterious disease slowly ate away at their flesh
and they rotted from the side out. In many ways, this sight of
thousands of inflicted souls was the worst yet, and the smell was also terrible.
We walked through the suffering masses for a time before I suddenly stopped seeing
a face I recognized that was staring fearfully back at me. I was so
shocked by his appearance that I inadvertently allowed the attendant's frail body to fall to
the rocks as I stumbled to confront an old enemy. Now observant readers will
notice how this is the first familiar soul I have mentioned encountering on level eight.
However, there may have been others on the sub levels above. There
were times dureing our hellish descent due to ledgers, when I thought I recognized
a face in the crowd. It's very possible that there were damn souls on
each and every sub level that I'd knowed in my life. I'd encountered so
many nasty pieces of work during my long association with the criminal underworld less,
none of these brief encounters stood out none until I reached this final bolgie and
found Zach. This was an individual I was very familiar with because I was
the one who'd ended his life. Let me explain. You'll remember that my
drug addicted mother died of an overdose, and I was the one who found
her body. Well, that wasn't quite the end of the story. I
didn't go out looking for vengeance straight away. The way I saw it,
my mother had done this to herself. But then I started hearing stories on
the streets, rumors of a series of overdose debts all Lincoln back to the
same dealer. This was Zach, who had been my mother's regular supplier.
It seemed he'd been selling a bad batch poison that killed a dozen of his
customers. I didn't know whether the deed was intentional or not, but it
didn't sit right with me, and so I decided to pay Zach a visit.
I confronted him at a crack then where he dealt out of and the
conversation soon turned ugly. What happened next was a blur in my memory.
I remember him going for a gun, and I went for him, initially
attacking a self defense. What followed was a brief but violent struggle, which
ended with Zag dead. It hadn't been my intention to kill him, but
that's how it turned out, and I was left with a course to dispose
of. Zack had been punished in life, but was still suffering in the
afterlife, with his body diseased and his skin covered in bleeding swords. As
he looked up at me with pitiful eyes, I didn't want to feel sympathy
for him, but couldn't dismiss the role I'd played in his untimely death.
This was the first time I'd killed anyone, and that's something you can never
take back. He opened his bone dry lips an attempt to speak, but
the only sound which came out was a pain groan. I overcame my disgust
and reached out to touch him, hoping his body would disintegrate into ash,
as had been the case in my previous encounters. But instead, something very
strange happened. Suddenly I was transported to another place, a location I remembered
from many years before. The squalid, dirty apartment was exactly how I recalled
right down to the stench of decay and desperation. I was in my body,
but didn't have control of it, instead merely playing out actions as if
I were on autopilot. Zach was there, of course, his reaction upon
seeing me was one of fear and panic, as he ran back into his
apartment to retrieve a pistol. I move instinctively, diving and tackling him to
the ground before he reached the gun. A desperate struggle followed, but I
soon triumphed, pinning Zack down on the filthy floor with my hands wrapping around
his throat. I didn't want to repeat my past mistake and would have done
anything to stop the savage attack, but I no longer had control and could
only watch as my rough hands applied immense pressure against Zack's throke, slowly strength
lend the life out of him until he stopped breathing and the light behind his
eyes extinguished. Next came a moment of panic as I realized what I had
done, but soon I formulated a plan, dragon Zax's limp body into the
bathtub and using a hack so to chop him up into pieces which were easier
to dispose of. When the foul deed was done. I find myself transported
back to the Eighth Circle, my hands covered in blood as I looked down
upon zack'ssmembered corpse. To my horror, I saw his decapitated head sitting upon
a blood stained rock, and noted how his eyes continued to blink and his
mouth open and closed as he made a futile attempt to speak. I turned
away in disgust and shame, only to find myself confronted by our nemesis,
the Devil, once again, taking on a vaguely human form as he glared
down on me with malicious and almost lustful eyes. In this since the moment
when I hurt you, he exclaimed, gleefully, the point of Norman turn
and lost your soul the more you swallowed that bastard, condemning your soul to
the turby of my kingdom. I lowered my head as tears welled up in
my eyes. Surely he was correct, but the attendant still had something to
say. You've jumped your gun, Lucifer, he proclaimed, this isn't over,
and you haven't won yet. The devil laughed sarcastically before he replied,
yes, indeed, my old friend traditions are important, and the wolves must
be follow Still one level to go, I shall wait a little longer to
claim my pause, gentlemen, I look forward to seeing both real soon one
level. Not with that, the devil suldently vanished and an elevator appeared in
his place. There was only one place left to go down, down to
meet my destiny. A lot of emotions went through my head during that short
descent down to the final level. Fear, anger, shame, but also
a strange feeling of calm resignation. I had a good idea of what awaited
me in the ninth circle. Zach was the first person I'd killed, but
not the last. There was a worse crime from my past that would surely
be revealed, and then I would be at the devil's mercy. I looked
to my stricken guide as he bled inside the lift, his face turning pale
as his life force slowly drained away. The poor man could hardly walk,
let alone protect me. And perhaps this was the way it should be.
Maybe I deserved the fate which awaited me. One thing for sure. By
this stage in this hellish journey, I was both physically and mentally drained,
and left resigned to whatever laid ahead. The terrors of level nine began sooner
than I expected, as we were accosted as soon as we stepped out of
the elevator. The first thing that hit me when the doors opened was the
extreme cold, an icy chill, unlike anything I'd experienced on the previous levels.
I needed to support the wounded attendant as we walked out, and so
almost mister Cumming attack only prompt when my guy cried, get down. We
ducked just in a nick of time as a huge club as stick as a
log swung just above our heads. In a panic, we scurried off the
rocks and into a large body of ice. Looking back to see our attacker
behind us was a giant, not a demon as such, but a humanoid
of immense size, about twenty five to thirty feet in height, with bulge
and muscle and a face red with rage. A watch was concern as he
swung out with his improvised weapon, but thankfully we were now beyond his reach.
Upon closer inspection, I realized his huge body was restricted by heavy irons
securing him to the spot. The giant roared in angry frustration, but had
missed his opportunity to crush us ugly and dumb brutes, the attendant said,
as he struggled to speak due to his pain. They guard the entrance to
the ninth Circle, but cannot pursue us. We turn our backs on the
chain beasts and looked ahead. Level nine Treachery, my guide confirm, otherwise
known as cocaitis the final stop on our journey. Our face will be decided
here one way or another. I gaze out onto a vast frozen lake,
a surface of blue ice that would almost have been beautiful had it not been
for the horrific senten. As we cautiously walk across the thick ice, I
looked down to see the damned soul trapped underneath naked bodies, frozes, solid
and unable to move, but somehow still alive. Their eyes fall on us
as we walked over their icy graves. Hare Dwell the worst traders in human
monsters of all time, the attendant explained. They live alongside the worst traders
of all the angel who rebelled against God and was cast out of heaven to
live in his eternal existence and shameful exile. I didn't need to ask who
he was referring to. But the Lord of Hell wasn't quite ready to see
me. He had one last surprise to spring before our final confrontation. We
struggled along for some time across the freezing ice before I saw him. At
a distance, I could see an elderly man with white hair, a cruel
smile, and piercing eyes. Only his head and shoulders were visible, as
the rest of his body was below the ice, meaning he couldn't move from
his frozen tomb. He was still conscious, however, following my progress with
his predatory eyes and opening his blue lives to speak Wow. Well, well,
look who's finally shown his face. He's been a long time kid,
but I'm sure you still remember me. I did, of course. This
was a man who'd condemned my soul, making me commit a henious act that
would never be forgiven. His name was Angelo, but this man was no
angel. In fact, he'd been a gangster while alive, a mob boss
who ruled over the criminal fraternity in my home city with an iron fist.
Angelo's organization controlled everything, including gambling, extortion, drugs, and prostitution.
They called him the Butcher, and he was said to be responsible for dozens
of murders over the years, either committed by his own hands or on his
orders, but despite his long criminal history, Angel had never spent a day
in prison. Some say he had the police and judges on his payroll,
while others claim he made a deal with the devil. In any case,
Angelo had died peacefully in his own bed, shortly after his eighty fifth birthday.
And now here he was at the very lowest level of hell, and
I knew exactly why he'd end up here. What's the matter, kid,
cat got your tongue, Angelo mocked, what do you want from me?
I whimpered fear, and I already knew the answer. Come on, you're
a clever kid. You know why you're here and what connects us. I
shook my head, finding myself unable to speak, it was left up to
Angelo to prompt me. The time has come, this is your destiny.
Touch my dead flesh and you shall see. I didn't want to, but
found myself unable to resist. Reluctantly, I reached out and touched the ice
cold skin, and in an instant I was dragged back to another place in
time. A dark alley late at night, two thugs were kicking and punching
me hard. I could feel every blow and was experiencing the pain for the
second time. Angela walked towards me as his men held me back. He
looked down upon my beating body with other contempt. You thought I wouldn't find
out, didn't you. The cops might not know who killed Zach, but
I do. That son of a bitch was one of my top earners,
and you took him out. Now you've got to pay. I shuddered as
the pain shot through me, and my whole body shook as I begged for
my life. Angela laughed cruelly as he delivered his final verdict. Relax,
kid, it's your lucky day. I've got a way out for you.
One little job and your debts paid off. I didn't like the sound of
this, but was desperate and scared. What do you want me to do?
I asked me. Angelo's smile wavered and the expression on his face turned
deadly. There's someone causing problems for my organization. He's a real storm in
my side. I need him taken care of. I gulped in dismay.
It was clear what Angela meant, but why would he ask me to kill
a man. Why me, when he had a whole army of hitman at
his disposal. I soon got my answer. The gangster pulled a photograph from
his jacket pocket and held it up to the light so I could see you
recognize him, he asked. I nodded my head in the affirmation. So
shocked I couldn't speak. The man in the picture was Angelo's brother. He
wanted his own flesh and blood dead and had blackmailed me into doing the hit.
Suddenly I was pushed forward in time as I stormed into a seed drinking
then with a machine pistol in my hand. My target was sat at the
bar, ineberated after a night of heavy drinking. His bodyguard sat beside him
and was more alert, going for his gun as soon as he saw me.
But I had to drop on them, both, firing my weapon on
automatic and pumping both men full of rounds. Watching it shocked awe as a
bullet cut them to shreds. Their bodies fell to the blood stained floor like
lifeless rag dolls, their eyes dead and mouths wide open, as if they
were screaming all the way to hell. I paused for a second, severing
my grim handiwork. But then I saw her, a young bar maid,
perhaps in her early twenties, blonde hair and blue eyes, her face frozen
in shock and terror. I met her gaze and realized what I had to
do. She'd seen my face and there could be no witnesses. I recalled
the girl pleading for a life as I re aimed my gun and a sick
feeling I had with my finger posed on the trigger. I wanted so badly
to stop this horrific reenactment and scream in the young mee's ear, telling him
not to do this, But of course I couldn't. The deed was already
done, and I couldn't turn back the clock. I pulled a trigger and
in her life with a barrage of bullets. My flashback ended and I found
myself back on Level nine, looking down on Angelo's frozen body. I don't
know which of my emotions was strongest, the shame or the rage. You
killed my brother, Angelo said, in an accusatory tone. You gave me
no choice, I exclaimed angrily, like hell, I didn't. Angelo shot
back, there is always a choice. You took the coward's way, taking
the lives of others to save your own skin. I lowered my head,
realizing he was right. But still this man was a monster. He'd killed
dozens during his criminal career and ruined scores of life. Why should he get
away with it? I looked back to the attendant, seeing he was lying
on the ice, nursing his wound as his wrinkle skin turn blue. He
spoke just two words, but their meaning was clear. Finish it. I
nodded my head and turned back towards Angelo, my heart filling with rage as
years of pent of anger was let loose. In the absence of any weapons,
I kicked out with my boots, stomping on his head with all my
might. I didn't know what would happen, but experience a grim satisfaction when
his body broke like glass shattering into a thousand pieces. The relief I felt
in that moment was immense. It was like a huge weight having lifted from
my weary shoulders. But my victory was short lived, as within seconds all
the fury of hell was let loose. First, the ground beneath our feet
started to shake, making it nearly impossible to stay on my feet, and
then I heard the ominous sound of cracking ice. Experience a fresh terror at
the prospect of falling due to the deadly cold water below. I saw an
explosion of ice a few hundred yards in front of me, and watched on
in horror as a huge beast emerged from beneath, unveiling a vast pair of
wings as it flew high above our heads. The monster had a wingspan of
at least forty feet and appeared in the guise of a giant harpey, complete
with clawed hands and feet, and fangs as sharp as stake knives. This
was no ordinary winged demon, however, I could tell from his burning,
soul crushing eyes and the sadistic cackle he admitted as he flew it was the
Devil in a new form, here for our final confrontation in the heart of
his vile kingdom. I didn't attempt to run or hide as the winged beasts
approached, soaring through the cold air and heading straight for me. This was
always going to be the final chapter. I realized this now. When we
first began our journey, the Attendant had promised he would do everything in his
power to get me home. Perhaps he meant it too, but now I
believed the Devil was always one step ahead. He joined us down to the
lowest depth of health bit in his time, until he grew strong and we
grew weak. In this scenario, he was a predator and I was a
prey. And maybe, once all said and done, this was my deserved
fate. After all, I was a sinner and a killer, and no
number of excuses can make up for my crimes. Clearly this was what the
devil wanted me to believe, as he hovered over us and delivered his final
message in a booming and human voice. Did you really think that would be
the rof but you could walk away from this? Oh? Oh, my
friend, that's not how it fucking looks. You're siner of the worst kind,
and that means you belong to me. Your soul is more intertonement,
fit ill eternament. He is not yours yet, came the tunderous response.
I turned on an astonishment to see my long suffering guide still bleeding, but
somehow now standing, his wrinkled face filled with a fresh figure and an angry
defiance. The devil didn't take his warning seriously, however, merely laughed in
his face. A thing, how don't you, yelled? Yours? You
have no power here. Just look at yourself, such a prothetical man.
I shall deal with you first, before taking perception of lard brauds. With
that, he dived down in attack mode, gun and for the attendant.
I don't know why, but in that moment I experienced an unprecedented surge of
bravery. As I placed my body between the stricken attendant and his winged attacker.
The devil looked down on me with scorn, striking me so hard that
my body stood across the ice. Aren't deal with you later, he exclaimed,
before once again turning his attention towards the attendant. I lay on the
eye, still winded from the blow and unable to intervene, as Satan swooped
down and grabbed hold of my guide with his sharp claws, digging them into
his vulnerable flush. As he ascended, I saw him glare into the Attendant's
eye, savoring his enemy's suffering before he delivered the killing blow. But just
as it seen that all hope was lost, something extraordinary occurred. My attention
was drawn upwards by a heavy clapping that sounded like thunder. I looked past
the ten ledges we had just negotiated and up to the surface, wondering what
the hell was going on. A moment later, there was a blinding light
that forced me to look away, and there followed the lightning strike, more
powerful and intense than anything I'd ever seen. A huge thought struck the intendant
head on, using him like a human electric rod. The lightning strike wasn't
a one off, however, as the powerful current searched through my guide's limp
body, he served as an unlikely conductor, the electricity passing through him and
into the devil, who still held my friend aloft. Next, I heard
a parson shriek of pain from the devil's mouth and looked on an astonishment as
his hands burned as he transformed again back into his human form, with that
saying continue to scream, I guess from a combination of pain and humiliation,
and he beat a hasty retreat, running back across the ice and leaping into
the hole from which he'd emerged, diving into the frozen debt as he made
good his escape. I was left flabbergasted by this sudden turn of events,
but soon recovered enough to run to the attendant's aid, finding him lying on
the ice where the devil had dropped him. As I approached, I saw
my friend was in a bad way, his frail body broken and his spirit
nearly extinguished. I took his cold hand and tried to revive him with words
of encouragement. You did, old timer, He beat the bastard on his
own turf. The attendant glanced up at me with exhaustion as he struggled to
speak. I did nothing, he replied. I was merely a vessel for
God's power. The devil has no answer when faced with the Lord's divine strength.
Now there is only one more task for me to complete before I move
on to a different place. I must fulfill my promise to you. But
I don't understand, I exclaimed in frustration. There are still so many unanswered
questions. The attendant smiled thinly in spite of his pain. You once asked
who I was during my mortal life, he said. The truth is I
was once just like you, a sinner of the worst kind. But I
was given a second chance, just like you have been. I shook my
head, gripping the attendant's hand tighter as I ask the obvious question, But
why me? Why should I be shown mercy when so many others continue to
suffer. The old man surprised me by admitting a muffled laugh. You think
you're being shown mercy, Far from it. When your time comes, you
shall take over my role guiding sinners due the nine levels, witnessing unspeakable acts
of cruelty, and fighting an endless battle against Lucifer which you cannot win.
Believe me, this is a punishment, not a reward. He paused,
unable to finish his sentence as he coughed up blood. The time has come.
Remember what I told you? Those were his last words. He stared
into my eyes with an uncharacteristic emotion. I stifled a tear and muffled just
two words in reply, thank you. There followed a bright light which blinded
me, and I came to in the back of an ambulance, with a
paramedic applying a defibrillator to my chest. I was back from the dead,
unceremonously returned into the mortal plane, but the news were far from good.
They took me to a hospital where the doctors run a series of tests.
My MRIs scans show that I have an inoperable brain tumor, and they've given
me six months to live, and so that's that. I know I'm going
to die soon, but find myself in a unique position of knowing what will
happen to me after But after all the shit I've done in my life,
I kind of liked the idea of having a purpose in the next world.
I want to help lost souls find their way, just like the attendant did
for me. So why am I telling you all of this? Well,
if you've led a sinful life like mine, there's a good chance you'll find
yourself on the wrong side of the afterlife. And if you encounter an inexplicable
elevator manned by a mysterious attendant, make sure you do what he says,
because your immortal soul can well depend on it. I'll see you in Hell,
my friends. This final episode of the Entity Inferno arc was written and
edited by Arthur Hell's Taurus and nirated by d Madison. If you like this
podcast, please hit that follow button and give the podcast a five star review.
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