Gates of Hell
After a relatively peaceful passing I was violently thrust into a writhing mass of screaming souls, fighting and clawing to escape. suddenly a voice thundered from above.
"Welcome to Hell!" A gigantic demon loomed above. The demon's eyes gleamed with malicious glee as he watched the panic unfold.
"What do you want from me?" I cried out, desperation making my voice quiver. The demon laughed and gestured at the maddening scene around us.
"This" he said mockingly. "A never-ending nightmare of pain and suffering."
A deep sinking terror overtook me as the demon's words sunk in. I never thought that I would end up in Hell. It's not like I was a bad person. I tried to live a good life. But I guess it wasn't good enough. Because I was going to spend eternity in this pit. The demon laughed at me as realization dawned on my face. I glared at the demon, rage and humiliation burning in my veins. I couldn't believe I'd be trapped in hell forever.
I didn't belong here. The conditions were horrendous, literally the stuff of nightmares. Day after day of agony. I was desperate to get out. I knew that I had to get a meeting with the devil himself to prove this was a mistake. However, his guards always kept us at a long distance, I could only steal a passing glance here and there.
I came to find out that the demons hold a tournament for entertainment where they pit tortured souls against one another in a battle for their very existence. The winner would be given a chance to meet the devil, the looser would cease to exist at all. Maybe not existing would be better than this? I knew that I had to enter the tournament if I ever wanted a chance to plead my case.
I found myself in the arena with a terrified young man who was shaking in his boots. I didn't want to fight him, but I knew that I had to. He lunged at me, and I sidestepped him, making him fall to the ground. Once he was down, I finished him quickly with a sword through his back. The crowd erupted into cheers. His body exploded into a black cloud and quickly evaporated away. I felt a new strength wash over me.
The next day was round two, a man who appeared to be just a teenager walked toward me and threw his sword to the ground. “I’ve been here for 600 years” he said, “I’m done” and he dropped to his knees. One swift swing of the sword, a puff of black smoke, and again I felt stronger.
Day three another teenager. Way too young to be dead, let alone in hell. The horn sounded and the fight began. He was going all out right from the start. He was fast, no matter what I did I couldn't seem to hit him. Then he caught me right across the jaw with a wicked left hook. I stumbled back and fell to the ground. The crowd was cheering, they thought I was done for and so did I. He jumped on top of me and went straight for my throat. He may have been faster, but I was stronger. I was able to wrestle him off me and regain my footing. I pushed and pushed with every ounce of strength toward the wall. More specifically toward the spikes on the wall. A puff of smoke… The next day I was ready for round four.
It went on and on like this for weeks. Some poor soul I had to vanquish, a puff of black smoke and more strength. The weeks turned into months, the months became years, I lost all sense of time or the number of prisoners I had fought. Even the crowds seemed to grow bored. I would fight two at a time, then three at a time. It became clear no prisoner could stop me and after each fight I just became stronger, absorbing the energy of each prisoner I destroyed. The only thing that kept me going was the hope of an audience with the devil and one day proving I didn't belong here.
Day after day, battle after battle. I didn't even want to fight any more. I began to think this whole tournament was just another cruel trick on us prisoners. I stepped into the ring, disinterested, I began watching the crowd. A young girl was sitting in the front row. She looked no older than 10. I wondered why she was here. Then heard a commotion growing. The crowd getting excited and unusually loud. It had been ages since they reacted this way. I turned and realized today I would be fighting a demon.
As this demon of Satan’s army stepped forward, I readied my sword. We circled each other, sizing each other up before finally clashing blades. Sparks flew as they collided, our swords ringing out in a furious melody. The demon was a formidable opponent. The first challenging fight in years. I actually began to enjoy myself again. His sword was sharp, and his armor was strong. He must have been watching my fights. He matched me move for move, strike for strike. Then I heard a loud thump. I had finally struck a soft spot in his armor, just under his left arm, and he had struck mine. We both took a step back. A quick breath and the demon advanced, swinging his sword at my head. I ducked under the blade and stabbed him in the stomach. He stumbled backwards, gasping for breath. I took advantage of his momentary weakness and swung again, slicing through the knight's armor like butter. The knight fell to the ground with a final moan, and I stood over him victorious. The crowd went silent.
At long last I stood victorious in the final battle. The defeated demon at my feet transformed into a black cloud and was quickly faded away. I had won, and now I would get my chance to speak with the devil himself. But before I could even take a step, the ground started shaking. The walls began to crumble. The sky turned from red to black. Through the crowd came marching an army of demons, straight from the castle of hell itself. This was no fight I could win. They quickly seized my sword and tore the armor from my body. A dozen clawed hands tore into my flesh and dragged me from the arena.
They dragged me right into the throne room and dropped me at Satan’s hooved feet. I looked up at him and saw that his eyes were black- completely black. There was no white in them at all. They were soulless and empty. I’m not sure why I found it so surprising. More unsettling than surprising maybe.
“You won your audience with me.” His voice sent a chill over me even in the sweltering heat. I stammered, said something about the tournament, about winning and being promised a chance to speak.
He sat back on his throne and looked down at me. “And so you have, but I’m afraid I don’t have anything for you. You see, the world no longer needs heroes like you. It’s time for a new age. An age of demons. And you, my dear boy, are going to help us usher it in.”
I tried to get up but couldn't move. I could feel something holding me down, some kind of invisible force. Satan stood and walked towards me leisurely. “Don’t fight it, boy. You have destroyed 216,363 souls. Each soul is now a link in the chains that will bind you to this realm. If you can carry your chains, you may leave.”
By fighting relentlessly day after day for a chance at freedom, after destroying so many souls, I had chained myself even more securely to hell.
After a relatively peaceful passing I was violently thrust into a writhing mass of screaming souls, fighting and clawing to escape. suddenly a voice thundered from above.
"Welcome to Hell!" A gigantic demon loomed above. The demon's eyes gleamed with malicious glee as he watched the panic unfold.
"What do you want from me?" I cried out, desperation making my voice quiver. The demon laughed and gestured at the maddening scene around us.
"This" he said mockingly. "A never-ending nightmare of pain and suffering."
A deep sinking terror overtook me as the demon's words sunk in. I never thought that I would end up in Hell. It's not like I was a bad person. I tried to live a good life. But I guess it wasn't good enough. Because I was going to spend eternity in this pit. The demon laughed at me as realization dawned on my face. I glared at the demon, rage and humiliation burning in my veins. I couldn't believe I'd be trapped in hell forever.
I didn't belong here. The conditions were horrendous, literally the stuff of nightmares. Day after day of agony. I was desperate to get out. I knew that I had to get a meeting with the devil himself to prove this was a mistake. However, his guards always kept us at a long distance, I could only steal a passing glance here and there.
I came to find out that the demons hold a tournament for entertainment where they pit tortured souls against one another in a battle for their very existence. The winner would be given a chance to meet the devil, the looser would cease to exist at all. Maybe not existing would be better than this? I knew that I had to enter the tournament if I ever wanted a chance to plead my case.
I found myself in the arena with a terrified young man who was shaking in his boots. I didn't want to fight him, but I knew that I had to. He lunged at me, and I sidestepped him, making him fall to the ground. Once he was down, I finished him quickly with a sword through his back. The crowd erupted into cheers. His body exploded into a black cloud and quickly evaporated away. I felt a new strength wash over me.
The next day was round two, a man who appeared to be just a teenager walked toward me and threw his sword to the ground. “I’ve been here for 600 years” he said, “I’m done” and he dropped to his knees. One swift swing of the sword, a puff of black smoke, and again I felt stronger.
Day three another teenager. Way too young to be dead, let alone in hell. The horn sounded and the fight began. He was going all out right from the start. He was fast, no matter what I did I couldn't seem to hit him. Then he caught me right across the jaw with a wicked left hook. I stumbled back and fell to the ground. The crowd was cheering, they thought I was done for and so did I. He jumped on top of me and went straight for my throat. He may have been faster, but I was stronger. I was able to wrestle him off me and regain my footing. I pushed and pushed with every ounce of strength toward the wall. More specifically toward the spikes on the wall. A puff of smoke… The next day I was ready for round four.
It went on and on like this for weeks. Some poor soul I had to vanquish, a puff of black smoke and more strength. The weeks turned into months, the months became years, I lost all sense of time or the number of prisoners I had fought. Even the crowds seemed to grow bored. I would fight two at a time, then three at a time. It became clear no prisoner could stop me and after each fight I just became stronger, absorbing the energy of each prisoner I destroyed. The only thing that kept me going was the hope of an audience with the devil and one day proving I didn't belong here.
Day after day, battle after battle. I didn't even want to fight any more. I began to think this whole tournament was just another cruel trick on us prisoners. I stepped into the ring, disinterested, I began watching the crowd. A young girl was sitting in the front row. She looked no older than 10. I wondered why she was here. Then heard a commotion growing. The crowd getting excited and unusually loud. It had been ages since they reacted this way. I turned and realized today I would be fighting a demon.
As this demon of Satan’s army stepped forward, I readied my sword. We circled each other, sizing each other up before finally clashing blades. Sparks flew as they collided, our swords ringing out in a furious melody. The demon was a formidable opponent. The first challenging fight in years. I actually began to enjoy myself again. His sword was sharp, and his armor was strong. He must have been watching my fights. He matched me move for move, strike for strike. Then I heard a loud thump. I had finally struck a soft spot in his armor, just under his left arm, and he had struck mine. We both took a step back. A quick breath and the demon advanced, swinging his sword at my head. I ducked under the blade and stabbed him in the stomach. He stumbled backwards, gasping for breath. I took advantage of his momentary weakness and swung again, slicing through the knight's armor like butter. The knight fell to the ground with a final moan, and I stood over him victorious. The crowd went silent.
At long last I stood victorious in the final battle. The defeated demon at my feet transformed into a black cloud and was quickly faded away. I had won, and now I would get my chance to speak with the devil himself. But before I could even take a step, the ground started shaking. The walls began to crumble. The sky turned from red to black. Through the crowd came marching an army of demons, straight from the castle of hell itself. This was no fight I could win. They quickly seized my sword and tore the armor from my body. A dozen clawed hands tore into my flesh and dragged me from the arena.
They dragged me right into the throne room and dropped me at Satan’s hooved feet. I looked up at him and saw that his eyes were black- completely black. There was no white in them at all. They were soulless and empty. I’m not sure why I found it so surprising. More unsettling than surprising maybe.
“You won your audience with me.” His voice sent a chill over me even in the sweltering heat. I stammered, said something about the tournament, about winning and being promised a chance to speak.
He sat back on his throne and looked down at me. “And so you have, but I’m afraid I don’t have anything for you. You see, the world no longer needs heroes like you. It’s time for a new age. An age of demons. And you, my dear boy, are going to help us usher it in.”
I tried to get up but couldn't move. I could feel something holding me down, some kind of invisible force. Satan stood and walked towards me leisurely. “Don’t fight it, boy. You have destroyed 216,363 souls. Each soul is now a link in the chains that will bind you to this realm. If you can carry your chains, you may leave.”
By fighting relentlessly day after day for a chance at freedom, after destroying so many souls, I had chained myself even more securely to hell.