by Stephen Biro
They continued screaming at me, wanting me to do the drugs, wanting to shove them in me. I stared at them in absolute dread. Their skin was embedded with reptilian scales, slit pupils and snake-forked tongues. Their ears were somewhat folded into their heads, and their voices continued echoing in my mind, each word overlapping another but I could understand them. When I had taken in the full horror of it all, that’s when they looked at each other and said, “He said YES!, He said YES!”
I shook my head “No.” I tried to say, “No.” But I couldn’t. Nothing came out, not even a whimper.
That’s when they both grabbed my arms and, without even trying to find a vein, slammed the needles into both my arms! They hit the plungers, and the green gook flowed into my body.
I can only liken it to a dog taking what is given to it from its master because it knows its place. That’s not how I thought I acted, but that’s exactly what happened.
They ripped the needles out of my skin and laughed to each other as my head began to swim with the effects of the mysterious green ooze. They both jumped off me, laughing and carousing as if this was their first time for this. Then one of them said, “He’s different, you know.”
But the other promptly yelled, “There’s another one over there!”
He pointed into the distance and ran in that direction, his diabolic companion following. I shook, convulsed, and spewed from my mouth the same colored junk they had shot me up with. I tried to get my bearings as the sound of Hell pulsed through my body. My head swimming, I dragged myself to my feet. I stumbled but regained my footing, and I looked over the expanse around me. An unending scene of despair and torment shook me as I realized where I was and what I had lost.
I was in Hell, and I couldn’t comprehend why, but my life had led me to its finality, and I accepted it.
I stumbled forward, not knowing where I was going, but I needed to go there, wherever it was. The sound of Hell just dampened every part of me, and I didn’t care what was going on, but I had to reach where I was going. There wasn’t an expanse of fire, just an unending torrent of rocks and canyons that jutted and beckoned everywhere. I tripped, fell and stumbled on everything in my path until I got where I was going.
My mind was reeling about what I had just experienced with the reptilians, since it wasn’t a “seven deadly sins” scenario, but rather a peer-pressure thing. My mind grasped the fact that peer pressure can be a sin and that talking a person into something against their better judgment can be a sin.
That thought grabbed me by the soul and held it for all its worth when a ripple in the soundscape changed the pulsating into something different. That’s when I felt a single, multifaceted pulse overtake me, then shatter me into a thousand pieces.
My scattered pieces re-formed and took the shape of something that disgraced me as a human. I already knew I was in Hell; I was just trying to find my level in which to await all of eternity. The sky, if I can call it that, shone brighter. I stumbled in darkness, moving towards the light. The light became brighter and brighter. I lurched towards mountains of gold that seemed to shine forever.
I stood over a horizon and witnessed these mountains of gold that went on as far as the eye could see. I was in awe, not for the gold but for the expansiveness of it all.
I knew I was walking into the realm of Greed. I walked up to the first mountain and saw that it was constituted of gold coins, bars, jewelry, statues—anything and everything that sparkled as an item of worth that made men crazy.
I walked closer and closer. Another mountain of gold was ten yards away from it, and it comprised all the riches of a kingdom. Only ten yards away was another kingdom of gold, exactly as round and mischievous as the previous. Ten yards away was another… and then another. Each one was perfectly spaced from the next, and they stretched all the way to the horizon. I had never seen that wealth of riches nor even contemplated it.
Then the thrumming of the sound of Hell forced me to look elsewhere—not just at the golden piles themselves. I cast my eyes upward and finally caught a glimpse of what topped each mountain. I tried not to admit to myself what really was there, a mere thirty feet away. But when the something moved, I knew it bore a humanoid shape. It balanced precariously on the tip of the gold, trying not to disturb it, trying to keep the balance of all of the riches it owned by its own desire.
I took two steps backwards, and my eyes finally made out what it was: A human that was shriveled up, bones protruding from its skin and desperately hungry for something, something that could never be quenched. It stood there, staring out at the huge expanse of its own gold while also greedily staring at the other mountains of gold around it. I could see its face. I could see its pain, wanting to keep its riches but wanting the other pile of riches but also afraid to move.
Each piece of gold was like a stumbling block for this thing (I say “thing” because I could no longer accept them as human at this point). That’s when I looked at the mountain next to it. I could see the same decrepit and desperate thing on the top of that mass of gold as well. I turned back to the immense pile in front of me and stared at the thing on top of it when it noticed me.
It saw me and I could see into its eyes. I could no longer consider them things, because I realized they were souls. I could see the pain and desire it had. It chilled me to the bone. My mind staggered as I saw this poor soul on top of his kingdom, afraid to move or disturb it for fear of losing it.
Then he moved. He didn’t move much, just turning towards me, slowly like an enemy, perched on his mountaintop to protect it from me. His eyes widened in horror. His foot gently slid downward, an inch or two, and a jingling’s worth of coins slipped down the mountaintop and rustled towards the bottom. I stepped backward because it was another sound that pierced my mind.
As I stepped back, I saw another soul. It seemed that they came out of nowhere, waiting at the bottom of each pile for a mistake. They looked exactly like those poor souls at the top of the mountains but they were hungrier. They didn’t find themselves as rich as the poor souls at the top, so they waited at the bottom to pounce. Twenty to thirty gold coins finally fell off the mountain, and the desperate soul at the bottom grabbed them and ran. She ran precisely ten yards away, dumping them into a little pile.
The soul on top of the immense pile looked out in extreme anger, staring hard at the female soul, who grabbed his coins when he made another move. More coins jangled and shifted down the mountain but this time, another poor lost soul, on the other side, grabbed the bounty as it spilled to the bottom. He took what he could and made himself a little mound of seven to eight coins. He hovered over it, smacking his lips and rejoicing exactly ten yards away on the other side of the mountain.
This went on for more than I can say while I was watching them. I saw the have-nots steal a coin or more at a time, hoping to piss off the souls at the top so they would move and lose more of the riches on which they perched.
I walked backwards to take in more, and the expanse and sheer horror of understanding sunk into me.
Each mountain had three usurpers at the base, wanting to take gold from the soul on top. Each mountaintop had a gold worshipper that knew they were there but refused to give anyone anything because greed had overtaken him. Rulers of each pile took what they could from others until they virtually couldn’t move without losing their riches to someone else. I had never seen it so clearly before.
After what felt like eons of watching this, one of them actually moved enough on the mountaintop, that he slipped along with the gold and riches that trickled down. He slid down the mountain to the bottom. As the gold bounced and clinked against itself, his yowls of anguish and pain filled the void, and one of the souls that waited desperately at the bottom climbed up the other side and made its way to the peak.
Then all the souls on all the mountains fell the same way, like rows of dominoes, ironically losing what they had in an attempt to keep it, giving those in wait a chance for their empires they had so greedi
ly kept.
These dethroned mountaintop “kings” found themselves again with the paupers, desperately trying to start new mountains, always ten yards away. What was earlier a tinkling noise had become a roaring deluge of sound—the sound of gold falling and the screams of those losing and those taking. It was a sound of madness because it didn’t stop. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing but I did. It made too much sense and I began to feel faint.
The air crackled, and the world around me folded into itself while the dull throbbing of Hell pushed me to the next level. The Mountains of Greed washed away from my vision.
THE CHAMBERS OF GLUTTONY AND THE VALLEY OF LUST
I suddenly found myself in a huge room.
The stench of meat and rotten food enveloped me to the point of gagging on my own misery. My stomach twisted and turned as vomit left it, spewing out between my teeth. The vileness took hold as the rhythm of Hell infused my soul with a disgusting taste. (I can still taste it if I focus and try hard to remember.)
I retched and heaved until nothing was left inside me. Then I retched some more. I wiped tears from my eyes, and I looked up to see a monstrous beast.
This soul was humongous. This thing (again I say “thing” because I don’t know what else to say), was a beast in Hell, over 3,000 pounds of disgusting humanity that took up the whole room I found myself in. It was surrounded by rotting meat, cheeses, fruits and every other edible, er, formerly edible object. It lay in its own waste, gorging on anything it could grab while stewing in its own juices. The stench was overwhelming due to bedsores and decay from its body.
I tried to wipe the spew from my mouth, but my heaving wouldn’t stop. There was no stopping the gagging and vomit. I couldn’t control it even when my so-called stomach had nothing left. The decay of burnt meat was overwhelming, and it was sickness personified. I tried to regain my composure as I looked at the lump of meat that someone had once called a body. I tried to step back but couldn’t. This time, I was stuck in a room with the damned.
I should refer to this as a soul, but it was so buried deep down into that flesh that there was little to see anymore. I turned to the door and grasped the handle. It didn’t turn when I twisted it, so I kicked it. It didn’t give. I screamed at the door, desperately trying to get out. The sounds of eating and swallowing got louder. Each tear and chew of each decayed mouthful felt as if piece of me was bitten and chewed and swallowed down into a vat of acid, to be absorbed into something unholy.
The damn door wouldn’t budge. I saw a number emblazoned at the top: 87,400,326. My mind rolled at that number. I fell to my knees and heard my insides yell, “WHAT THE FUCK!”
This soul just ate whatever it could grab. It was rotting as it breathed and chewed and didn’t care as long as it got what it wanted. It just wanted food, mouth-watering food, and the gluttony turned the putrid food into heavenly deliciousness.
It was the slurping and chewing of a ravenous animal that couldn’t get enough. I couldn’t even see its arms past its heaving belly. It suddenly gagged, choked, and then retched all over itself, spewing vomit and half-eaten carcasses of animals all over itself. But it didn’t stop eating. My curiosity got the best of me, so I walked around to see what it was doing and caught it eating the vomit stuck between its neck and chest, scooping it back into its mouth, swallowing and laughing while it did it.
After heaving some more, I ran back to the door and slammed against it, trying to get out. But the door still wouldn’t budge. I ended up sliding down the doorframe and falling to my knees in desperation.
I was disgusted and overwhelmed but I managed to take a closer look at it. Then I saw that what I’d thought was a he was a she. It was a “lucky” glance (I didn’t want to know but saw it all the same). My stomach was totally empty, but by this time, dry heaves suddenly became my specialty.
I turned around so I couldn’t look any longer at that poor soul. All I could hear was the nomming, the slurping and the swallowing of unseen, disgusting food.
As I clutched my head, the scene before me began to dissolve like a fade in a movie.
I was left gasping for air and sanity, only to find neither. It was just a mess of humanity, caught in all its trappings and pitfalls. The thrumming sound shook me again and wouldn’t let up. I slowly opened my eyes to see what was in front of me. I was no longer in the Chamber of Gluttony but somewhere else.
A convulsion began to emit from the lower tip of my spine and glided up my spinal column until I was a quivering mass of flesh encasing a skeleton I couldn’t control.
Losing control of your body in Hell is a luxury you can’t understand until you’re there. Your mind, body and soul have been corrupted by the life and the society you lived in. When you finally lose control of what you’re encased in, Hell ceases to be. All your synapses turn inwards, and the Hell you’re in disappears.
You’re swallowed whole and you’re back into yourself as if you are alive. Just internally, mind you. Hell fades away for a moment, giving you a reprieve, or at least a breather. It’s a gift that’s hard to appreciate—that is, until you’re there—before you’re thrust in again; it’s almost a torment. I wish this upon nobody, but as one of the damned, it’s a sweet relief.
But again, it’s just another devilish way to torment those in Hell. Slight spasms of the soul pull a person out of the horrifying consequences of eternal damnation, temporarily giving them the bliss of non-existence and total self-oblivion, only for that soul to be thrown back into the abyss. Cruelty knows no bounds in Hell, and I can attest to that.
I found myself on my knees, clutching myself as if I were a baby. I used every ounce of my reasoning to figure out what was going on: I’ve been in Hell for however long, but I was visited by God and tormented by the Devil for over a year. I have been on a quest for either salvation or damnation because I couldn’t live my life any longer the way it was, without answers.
I found those, and my consequence was being here. For doing what I needed to make my life mean something, I was in Hell.
I stood up, with my eyes still closed. I slowly opened them. I could feel the emotion of this level and could feel a pang of what it was. I knew this was my level. I knew this was my personal sin!
The thrumming of the energy, the sound of the pulsations began to make sense. It’s the same sound and pulsation I’ve felt my whole life. It’s like vaguely knowing a nursery rhyme you heard as a kid and never quite making out what song it is, until you finally hear it clearly, and then you know that it’s what has been driving you since the day you were born.
Every sin has a feel to it. Every man or woman is brought into the world with a propensity towards a certain sin being their major sin. We have secondary sins and we commit sins below our main one, but they’re not like the true sin, which we feel comfortable with.
It’s the sin we put on like clothes onto our naked soul. It’s the sin we can easily make excuses for. And it’s the sin—no matter what happens in life—we can still fall into very easily, especially at our worst but even at our best. We don the coat of sinfulness that we are born into, bred into, or fall into because it’s a part of us, whether we hate it or not.
I’m telling you this because this is my sin. I felt it, felt comfortable with it, and knew I belonged here.
I slowly opened my eyes to the gyrations and the smell of sex.
Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. I could taste it in the air. I could lose myself in every pleasure, desire and want I could ever imagine. I wasn’t prepared for the sheer atrocity of an unrepentant orgy in Hell!
There were no demons, ringleaders or masters in this domain. It was an all-out frenzy of fucking, blowing, humping, licking and tasting of flesh that wanted to be desired and consumed in every pleasure imaginable.
Every soul wanted to lose itself in the act of love—to say nothing of the enslavement of love, spurred by yearning. It is the desire to possess another soul or body, to make it his or her own, even for a moment. It i
s the need to feel as if we are truly not alone in our own minds and that we can be connected during the act of sex. We still are very alone, even during the act of making love, but sometimes we are transformed and can finally feel close to something besides ourselves. Every now and then we need to be dominated, and sometimes we need to be submissive. Sometimes, we can play with sex as adults—just as kids used to play on the playground. Other times we can just show love and affection in the simple act of physical love and closeness we all desperately crave.
Once in a while, we need to feel dirty to feel alive. We need to cross taboos and do things we’re told are wrong but which feel right when happening between two lovers. Lust falls into so many different spectrums of self-hatred and love of one another that it’s one of the most confusing aspects of sin mankind has ever crossed.
The desperation of planting your seed and making sure your lineage is perpetuated is something men drive for, even if they don’t want those specific things. The act of “sex to become pregnant” can drive some women to pregnancy with men they don’t even know. Motherhood, fatherhood, and the need to give life, are programmed into all of us since birth.
The sin of lust can be connected to many things: Feeling loved, procreation, dominance or submissiveness, feelings of worth. You can feel abuse, torment and punishment while enjoying it. Love can be mixed up with sex—and the crazier the sex, the more you can feel that your partner loves you.
Lustful fantasies can bring a couple closer and maintain a bond, but without sex it can drive away, hurt, or even control a relationship. Sex can do so many amazing things and rip them all apart too. It’s a fucking tightrope we walk daily.
How many wives or husbands have been cheated on? How many husbands and wives refuse to ask for what they really want, or need, sexually? How much of this timidity was from fear of judgment or of looking like a freak? How many souls have told their partners what they need sexually, only to be refused? How many people have strayed from their marriage to do what they’re afraid to ask of their partners? How many people have committed adultery just for the simple feeling of neglect?
