“Crack house away from home.” I wisecracked before filtering my thought. Thankfully Vic was light enough in mood to giggle at my attempt at comedy. After little settling in she wasted no time summoning all of the Valkyries and the Virtues. The crowd had gotten larger and easily filled the house and spilled out into the property in all directions. For my journal’s accuracy Vic asked that I tap her mind so I can add the following conversation to the pages.
“Evelyn, have you mapped my soul’s pathways?”
“Yes, Mistress. I have, and your soul can be condensed considerably and still keep your flesh functioning for a short time. You'll feel weakened by it though, and for what you’re planning you’ll be burning calories and fat at an extremely accelerated rate. Too long of exposure and you’ll quickly start losing muscle tissue as well.”
I was puzzled to say the least. I've never liked that Vic can communicate with Evelyn from within. It's not telepathy, but more so because Evelyn resides within Vic’s mind to keep watch over all her systems, get notifications of injuries or infection setting in, anything happening to her mind and body, Vic is able to concentrate on a thought and Evelyn reads it, or feels it, for lack of a better description.
“Vic, why would you want to-” and I was cut off by her next set of instructions to Evelyn.
“Please carry out my instructions.” And with that Evelyn was gone within Vic’s body. I pressed a hand not into Vic’s mind as usual but into her chest to feel what Evelyn was up to. She anchored herself within Vic’s mind, and then sent her own soul throughout Vic’s body spiraling around all the major branches of Vic’s soul. Evelyn then constricted and pulled Vic’s soul back towards its cores within Vic’s heart and mind. These branches were pulled back very tight, and at that moment Vic collapsed and crumbled to her knees on the floor.
“VICTORIA!” I cried out as loud as I could without thinking.
“I'm okay …” she whispered calmly, “Now, the rest of you, tighten and bind yourselves as small as you can. Affix yourselves within me to all those places my soul would normally occupy.” But it wasn't that simple as this was also a new command for them. Vic recited the words she'd been memorizing; it was the first time I paid close enough attention to see her lips move in the ways of speaking English, but angel-speak was pouring languidly into the air. Upon completing the command Vic raised her right hand in the air and Evelyn opened a gash in the palm of Vic’s hand from within. Vic lost but a few drops of blood as the Virtues, and then the Valkyries, entered through the wound and dispersed throughout her flesh, blood, and bones.
At first it seemed these souls taking up residence was a good thing since Vic was able to stand again soon after the souls began occupying her. But then her body temperature began to rise as more souls crammed into her body. She arched back and not so much yelled out in pain as she roared with newfound strength in her body. But still more souls packed in as she began to sweat profusely as she threw off her leather jacket. In a matter of seconds her body burned through its fat stores, her clothes were nearly saturated with sweat, and the density of her muscles increased, but even this was short-lived. Vic’s body started to produce a vapor of some kind — almost like steam but not quite the same.
The last of the souls finally entered through the open wound on her palm, which it seemed to prove difficult for Evelyn to close since she was putting so much energy into keeping Vic from destroying herself with this command. Vic’s blood poured thin like water until the wound finally was closed.
Vic collapsed again to her knees but forced herself to lunge forward onto all fours. Her black T-shirt was soaked with sweat and the vapor emanating from her skin subsided. I placed my hand on her back not to check inside her, but to try to comfort her. I could feel her spine and ribs through the wet fabric. She forced herself to stand, and turned towards me and I saw she had become gaunt and frail as her face was almost closer to skeletal than healthy due to her body using muscle mass as fuel.
Vic leaned against the wall for support and made her way to the pantry in the kitchen. She opened the door and inside was numerous boxes with tracking labels on them from a parcel service. Atop one of the boxes lay a box knife and can opener. Quickly she cut open a couple boxes, pulled out some canned peaches, pears, peas, and corn. Another box she opened had vacuum-sealed jerked meats and dried fruits while yet another box contained granola and cereal bars. Vic was quickly sampling from all the boxes trying to get nutrients back into her body.
“You probably shouldn't eat so fast, Vic.”
“No time, Azeeza! Evelyn! Please process as much of this as you can as quickly as possible.” She commanded as she gulped peaches with turkey-jerky chasers. Some color came back to her cheeks, but it's her insides we’re most concerned about. She licked her fingers and lips and stood with no difficulty. She stepped towards me and looked me right in the eye holes.
“Show me.”
I stepped around her looked over her shoulder as I entered her mind. We found the soul she asked for in Hell. For a moment she hesitated out of shock over what that soul could see. I could feel her body starting to burn through what she just and was nearing consuming muscle mass again. She quickly shoved a few more peaches in her mouth and barely chewed before swallowing them. Again she licked her fingers, and then used the box cutter to pierce her fingertip.
Vic concentrated on what I was helping her see, and one of the souls of the book was suffering through to allow us to hone in on. Vic stretched out her arm and with her bloody fingertip created a gateway in the air before us. She’s now opened her very first passage to Hell, and then she opened a second one for me to pass through. She had theorized if we could see where we wanted to go then we could open a gate to that very place, and we could see through the scars what we were seeing from our friend in Hell. I asked him to remain as we'd see him momentarily. It was time to go for a walk.
Journal entry LXVI
Vic’s body, with Evelyn’s help, could only contain all those souls for a very finite amount of time. Passing over into Hell was going to be now or never — in the best case scenario — or not go through with it at all and waste all the effort she just went through to contain them.
Vic stepped through the gate and was wide-eyed at what she was facing, and then she tripped over some poor soul’s head and face-planted into the cursed ground.
It was an epic moment … wasted.
Vic scurried to her feet and gave the command to release the souls from her body minus the seven Virtues. They're remaining within her under the direction of Evelyn to assist in strengthening and protecting Vic from within. Though Evelyn and the Virtues are aiding Vic, she crumbles to her knees again as the last of the souls exit her body. She is much stronger now without having to carry all those souls, and despite her emaciation, but she needs to acclimate and time is short. Hell is an assault on all the senses and the soul itself, the likes of which no mortal has ever experienced.
The odors of piss, feces, sweat, boiling blood, and searing flesh permeate the air. The deafening wailing of so many damned all at once in an echo chamber designed by Judas. The air is heavy from all the bodily fluids evaporating and swirling about in dense fogs and mists; impossible to avoid feeling on the skin and tasting on one’s tongue. Couple the mists with the sensations of actually walking on the flesh and bones of suffering people, let alone tripping on them and finding one’s self in direct skin to skin contact; albeit the memory of skin, it's excruciatingly unpleasant. But the sense most mortals rely on so much — the sights of Hell — the brutality beyond brutality, and the scope and detail created over all this time from all these souls. Even without all the other senses the sights in this place will alarm the mind beyond comprehension, and blister one’s soul with the memories of everything seen.
Even nightmares are afraid to come here.
I reminded Vic we needed to get a move on and she redoubled her efforts. I saw her lips moving, but I could make out Evelyn. It's my guess she was requesting more rei
nforcement and extra buffering to at least some of her senses so she could regain some composure. Just reducing the odors and the sounds should help dramatically. After a couple more moments Vic stood herself up, focused her eyes on the rancid sight of our target ahead of us. Upon getting back to her feet she gave a command for a number of souls to surround her and cloak her presence here. Several of her Valkyries swirl about Vic with increasing speed. Not entirely unlike the bubble created around Evelyn and Rhonda at the LaVey, Vic was now enveloped in a bubble the outside of which appeared as the surroundings Vic was traversing within. Its part of the command the Valkyries carried out that night, the part for privacy from the outside world.
We didn't get too far before we realized something we took for granted was something we hadn't warned Vic about — the thorn bushes belonging to the damned. The souls surrounding her weren't affected by the thorns as they passed through the landscape. We realized we didn't warn her about them because her hand was scraped by one as she passed by it, and it caused her to collapse yet again. Within that slight and momentary wound Vic was exposed to someone’s identity, sins, and all the pain and suffering that person's trespasses caused in others. Yeah, that was our fault. Soon we were on our way yet again, after humbling myself under Vic’s very angry gaze.
The sculpture made up of the damned before us was created by Malus after the Book of the Damned left Hell. He and his demons are obviously spitting in God’s eye by taking a portion of one of His greatest creations and recreating it in extreme and painful fashion. They’re mocking Him and further proving Malus enjoys theatrics and shock value. For a lack of any other way to say it without getting crude, Hell now has a very large vulva built into its landscape. Though I was seeing it via one of the book’s souls earlier, it is only upon seeing it firsthand I would let myself believe it.
Despite this structure being made up of the damned, Malus was obviously going for detailed realism when he had the Thorn build this. The adductor and gracilis tendons disappeared into the rest of the landscape to each side as faint curves. The shape of the Mons pubis was easy to see above the labia, from which Malus used graduated sizes of fleshen souls to make up the two sets of lips; heavier fleshen bodies for the majora and thin fleshen bodies for the minora, all of which were ample in number, but not exaggerated as one would think Malus might create. Between the labia we could see the bodies curving inward, and what looked to be the urethral opening fashioned from the legs of one soul, and the vaginal opening below that fashioned from numerous fleshen souls on each side entwined. From within the vaginal opening we could see a light emanating from further inside. Of course, since this is Hell, one couldn't overlook the blood flowing from within because of all the fleshen souls making up the interior of this perversion. But let's not forget the pearl of the feminine anatomy made up from a very ample, well, very rotund woman sewn into place in spread-eagle fashion overlooking all who approached. It was obvious the entire structure was built proportionate to her great size, to put it kindly. The entire mass undulated and writhed like it was going somewhere, but it remained stationary. It’s a perverse landmark in a landscape of perverse suffering.
Journal entry LXVII
Vic approached the entrance. It was a small step up, but before getting to it we could feel even warmer air with far greater humidity flowing from within and creating a steady breeze. The light deep inside seemed a bit brighter as Vic stepped inside cautiously, and then ventured further. I’m just going to avoid speculation of what this all looked like.
Within the canal the damned were arranged with only their backs facing the interior from their shoulders down to the tops of their buttocks. We presumed the Thorn broke their bodies and wadded their heads, arms, legs, and pelvises inward towards the chest and belly, which means their faces, were up close and personal with their own thorn bushes. The configurations of the damned provided a benefit of silence as everyone within is facing away and so curled up they can no doubt barely grasp enough air to scream. We could see and hear the inhales and exhales of the fleshen souls as they screamed from their damnation, but they were almost completely muffled due to being curled up so tightly.
There are long, festering wounds along the ceiling and walls, along with round wounds on the floor trailing the length of the canal from the entrance to as far as we could see. These were obviously caused by Thorn forcing their way through this space during its construction, as well as going in and out for the imprisonment angels. While it seems there are certain obvious symbolisms behind the reasoning for this structure and imprisoning angels within it, I’m not going to attempt to psychoanalyze Malus’s thought processes.
We could see ahead that the canal abandoned its anatomically correct realism as it opened suddenly into a large chamber, the womb, I guess one could say. As with the canal leading here all of the tortured souls only had their backs turned to the inside of the space. There are the same festering wounds in this room as is the canal, with a couple exceptions. On the walls, ceiling, and floors were what appeared to be the remnants of dark splatters staining the damned, as well as jagged stony objects, from very small to about the size of human bones, some straight and some curved, all imbedded into the damned.
In the center of the room are what remains of eight guardian angels; three males and five females. All in a circle facing outward and each with quills from the Thorn impaled through their feet, legs, and lower bodies. The quills have the angels literally nailed to the cursed ground and anchored within the fleshen bodies making up this room, but the Thorn didn't stop there, not by a long shot.
Using shredded fleshen bodies and their own great quills the Thorn fashioned crucifixes of sorts extending from floor to the ceiling. Curved quills crisscrossed as uprights and stabbed through the wrists of the angels to keep them in place. From the fleshen bodies of the crucifixes, and those within the floor and ceiling, the very veins and arteries of the damned were rerouted from their bodies into the angels’ bodies via hundreds of punctures created by the Thorn. They’re pumping sin-tainted blood directly into the angels. The combination of being nailed to their surroundings, crucified, and having a steady supply of bad blood transfused into their bodies directly from the damned was nearly much. They were now little more than shriveled, wrinkled husks of the beings they once were. They looked at best, like naked elderly people suspended in painful perpetuity. Still, despite the best efforts of Malus and the Thorne, these angels still possessed the glow of their cores from within their chests and heads, albeit faint.
There were several of these crucifixes in the room that were empty with the veins from the floor and ceiling just dangling and draped upon them still pumping dark red blood. It seems some haven’t made it to this point.
“This may not have been a good idea, Vic.” She glanced at me with unyielding determination in her eyes, and then stepped out from her concealment within the ring of Valkyries.
“What's a mortal doing here?” One angel asked with so little strength in her she seemed almost drunk as she slurred her words.
“I'm here for you!”
Each of the angels looked to Vic as best they could. She walked around them and stopped when she came to one in particularly bad shape. Her glows were faded and she was unresponsive to Vic’s presence. We could see the darkened blood in her veins as her skin was so incredibly thin it looked as if touching lightly would break it wide open. Vic reached out and softly caressed the angel’s cheek with her fingertips.
Suddenly the angel’s eyes opened and she screamed almost continuously from the obvious pain of her situation. The darkened blood of sinners began pouring from her eyes, nose, ears, and mouth, and then drizzled from her nipples as we looked down her body and it was obvious the sinners’ blood was pouring from every last orifice this creature possessed. I looked to the other angels and noticed faded dark stains resembling splatter patterns and shards of what looked a bit like bone, but almost more like stone; marble perhaps, protruding from the flesh of the surrounding an
gels.
“VIC! TAKE COVER!” She reacted beautifully and intelligently running around the group to a position opposite the bleeding angel, and then outward towards the wall. This put angels between herself and the screaming one.
The angels on both sides of the bleeding one turned their heads away from her and braced themselves. I stood and watched the bleeding one as she cried out longer than any mortal could. Her bones began to pop and crack and her body straightened up and seized. She forced her gaze skyward and cried out a word in angelic, which I had never heard, nor was written within any of my pages. The darkened blood in her veins seemed to boil under skin as blisters raised and smoke began pouring out of her mouth. Then there was a massive cracking sound like a great tree breaking and falling as all the fibers of the wood give way. For a split second, just as Vic huddled against the far wall, the angel was silent as her glows faded out, and then she exploded. The flesh and blood of the collapsed angel painted and pierced everything and everyone close by while her bones fragmented into shards and splinters, nearly all of which stabbed into anything nearby, especially the angels on either side of her.
I moved into the space in the middle of the crucifixes and looked around at the back sides of the angels themselves. Any of their flesh not blocked by quills had collections of shrapnel in it from head to heel. They've been dying off one by one for some time now.
“She was not as old as we are. Her cores ran out faster even though we instructed her about how to conserve and constrain her divinity and let her form age out.” The female angel speaking projected great sadness in her voice, but did not cry as she looked to Vic still huddled against the wall.
Legacy of Judas - Book One Page 35
