Dark Days: A Collection of Short Stories and Poetry

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Dark Days: A Collection of Short Stories and Poetry Page 8

by Chris Harris


  Part Five

  The sin of Sloth

  Polyphemus

  I wake in what I guess is the chamber of Sloth,

  the sin so lazy, the entrance was a trapdoor

  rather than yet another twisting tiring pathway.

  In this large chamber, was a floor of red-hot coals

  With only narrow pathways between rows of them.

  And on these narrow pathways stood the Cyclopses,

  With giant bull whips in their fleshy, blood stained hands

  Which they used to brutally whip the ones of sloth,

  who stood upon the hot coals and were made to run

  in order to keep their feet from the searing coals.

  They cannot rest on the narrow pathways, in fear

  from the whips, which left trench-like gashes in their backs.

  I noticed a large throne at the end of the room

  Upon which sat a Cyclops, one much larger

  than the norm. Its bulging brown head, with a single

  round eye in the centre, the stretched veins of which were

  clearly visible, forming paths into his skin,

  then under the skin and leading to the crushing

  skewer-like teeth, each one impaling a carcass.

  The Cyclops looked downwards at me, bending double,

  yet still having to squint to see my form, which I

  thought was tall, but was no bigger than a tooth now.

  It spoke, if speech caused ripples, in a deep voice

  Fitting enough for the monumental Cyclops.

  “Welcome, mortal. The first decent mortal since Odysseus.

  I congratulate you.”

  This statement, as pitiful and callous as

  it was, proved that this Cyclops was Polyphemus

  the deceitful bastard who tricked Odysseus.

  I quickly vowed never to fall into that trap,

  but I quickly realised that there was no way out.

  He rose from his throne, heaving a huge bone club.

  He advanced, each footstep resonating through the

  hard ground, shock-waves crushing even the toughest rocks.

  He raised the club, me thinking caveman I dodged,

  rolling to the right and wondering what happened.

  at that moment a gargantuan hand swept me up

  and told me quite clearly what he was undertaking

  “We’re going to see Hades...”

  Part Six

  End of the road

  The Pit of Tartarus

  Polyphemus entered the pit, opened his palm,

  allowing me to stand upon it, to survey

  the pit, the prison. He began to walk past the

  cages, filled with the fallen Titan gods, Cronus,

  Gaia, Uranus and Eros, to name but a few.

  They screamed as walls with sharp spikes set in them compressed

  causing pain and wishes, wishes for death to come,

  But death would not, Hades wished it not, the cruel fiend.

  We followed a stream of dark fast flowing red blood

  that conjoined with other blood streams as we progressed

  that emerged from the back of the Titans’ cages

  as they were repeatedly pierced by the grey spikes.

  The river flowed, following the cracks in the ground.

  Until they reached the Seat of Hades...

  He sat proud in his throne, the thick rivers of blood

  meeting before him, forming a small lake, that drained

  once more into the Titans’ cages beneath him.

  He spoke, echoing in this cavernous dwelling,

  “Who is this, Polyphemus?

  And why have you come here?”

  Polyphemus cleared his throat with a cough, and said,

  “This is a decent Mortal, sire.

  And one who does not deserve to be here.

  Look into his mind and you too shall see.”

  My vision blurred, obscured, and my mouth turned arid

  for a second, but no longer as Hades spoke

  “You are correct, Polyphemus.

  A decent mortal in this day.

  These days where people do not believe in us, but in war and science.

  Government, sinners if you will.

  You may pass mortal, to the light.”

  “What is the light?”

  I ask.

  Before everything turned black, save one bright light.

  I smiled and walked.

  Walked into the light...

 


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