Welcome back everybody! Halloween is fast approaching and I've been in the mood for some scary shit!
The sole upside to having lost one's memory, was that you had zero preconceived notions about the last ring of Hell. Penryn had a feeling though, that even her worst imaginings paled in comparison to what she was seeing.
The smell of burnt flesh permeated the air, the black sand underfoot soon replaced by ash. Pyres of bodies surrounded them on both sides of the trail, most of them still alive and screaming in neverending pain. Penryn even saw a man trying to rip the skin off his arm to escape his burning flesh, though the glow of the fire had already begun to pulsate in his bones. It was evident that these souls were there to stay for the duration of their punishment, unable to escape the eternal torture of burning alive. The bodies at the base of the pyre had grown mum, their smoke blackened eyes staring ahead lifelessly.
There was barely any light, save for the fires from the pyres. A red glow was cast over the trail that the Reaper led Penryn down, the flames pulsing like a beating heart. Despite the pyres of burning bodies though, the last ring of Hell was bitterly cold.
"How long will they stay there?" Penryn asked, almost whispering.
The Reaper looked sideways, to the burning pyres.
"Until the fire burns out." The Reaper replied.
"And when will the fires burn out?"
"When what is infinite becomes finite."
Penryn nodded, fluttering her wings close to her. They walked on for a little while without saying a word. Penryn had an inkling of a feeling that the Reaper was one not used to talking. Their voice was hoarse, and the Reaper spoke each word slowly, as if trying to remember how to say them. It made sense, why would a servant of Death need to speak?
"What is Death like?" Penryn asked suddenly.
The Reaper looked back at her, their eyeless sockets almost glimmering with amusement. Their hand drummed against the handle of their scythe, making a rhythmic clacking sound.
"Death is death." They replied.
"That's not an answer."
"I'm surprised that one who has become so intimately familiar with my master does not understand my answer."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means what it meant."
"Why do you insist on talking in riddles?
"Why do you insist on asking meaningless questions?" the Reaper shot back.
As they conversed they began to climb up a winding set of stairs set into the side of a mountain that Penryn had not noticed the entire time they had been walking. In fact, the entire topography of the island seemed to fluctuate. They would take ten steps forward and be in an entirely different place than they had previously been walking through. It was disorienting.
Penryn decided to switch the topic of conversation, though she knew that this new change of subject would be just as fruitful as the other subjects had been.
"Why am I here?" she asked.
"How unoriginal of a question." the Reaper replied.
"I have the right to know."
"Do you, now?"
"Yes, you pig headed snob!" Penryn almost screamed in frustration.
"And on whose authority?" the Reaper chuckled.
"Mine."
At this, the Reaper let out a sharp bark of laughter. It was grating to the ears, like the grinding of bones.
"Careful human, you're overstepping your bounds." They said.
The scene changed again and this time they were standing at the edge of a cliff face, hugging the side of the mountain they were climbing. Below them the sea raged and roared, the waves beating the side of the cliff. It was raining, and in the distance, Penryn could see what appeared to be a boat that was on fire. The sky rolled with thunder that shook Penryn to her very bones. Frightened, Penryn clung to the side of the cliff, clinging to the rocks; only to find that the cliff face itself was made of bones.
"Do you have any more questions, human?" The Reaper called out, laughing once more with that awful grinding of bones.
Penryn said nothing, her eyes trapped on the scene in front of her. A giant body was rolling through the waves. Its body rippled with dark fire as it swam through the sea. The thing was very large, and very long. Penryn could see its coiled body swimming through the dark depths of the ocean, the fire in its scales illuminating it through the dark water.
"What is that?" Penryn asked, shivering from the freezing rain.
"Leviathan." The Reaper replied. "The biblical monster of the seas."
The head of Leviathan broke through the waves, revealing its giant head. Horns followed the curve of its head, which was very angular and sharp. The mouth was composed of rows of sharp, needle-like teeth. Its shimmering black scales seemed to ripple with fire, which in turn lit the terrifyingly dark eyes of the sea monster. Penryn watched with petrified fascination as it reared its head up and dove once more in the water, its long body cutting through the turbulent water with magnificent ease.
"The Leviathan has been locked up for too long." The Reaper said, beckoning Penryn forward. "It's restless, wants to get out."
Penryn followed the Reaper, a foreboding feeling settling deep into the pit of her stomach. It was obvious that the Leviathan could cause world destroying chaos. Wanting to leave the scene as quickly as possible, Penryn hastened after the Reaper, her mind filled with images of the great monster rearing back its head and tearing into the cliff face they were currently scaling.
They scaled the cliff for what felt like days. The rain pounded relentlessly, chilling the already frozen Penryn. Unlike the other scenes they had passed through, this one did not change with the same regularity. It remained ever the same. Screams resounded through the night air, ringing hollowly within Penryn's ears. Hell obviously thrived on pain, relished in the torture of the beings that had fallen into its clutches. To Penryn, it felt like Hell was a living, breathing thing. The ground itself felt thrummed with energy.
Finally, the scene changed. They were no longer walking along the side of a cliff, but standing in an open, blackened plain. It was no longer raining, but the air was hot and still, not a single breeze drafting through the place. Drenched still from the rain, Penryn could already feel the way this place was suffocating her, the vast emptiness making her throat close with fear.
"Keep your feet close to the ground." The Reaper instructed her. "Remember to always stay grounded."
Long past arguing or asking questions, Penryn simply nodded.
"Careful not to be swept away," the Reaper continued. "You could lose your soul here."
They began to walk forward, Penryn's wings, which had valiantly reminded off the ground, trailing behind her. She was so bone achingly tired. She felt like she had lived a thousand lives, trapped down here in Hell, unable to fly away, and unable to understand why she was there. She'd begun to doubt the Reaper when they had told her that she was still alive. There was no way she could be. How could someone alive feel this much pain? No, this pain was only for those who were no longer living.
For the first time since she had Fell, Penryn remembered something. She remembered the arm reaching out to her, and the voice that had screamed her name. She remembered how the voice was so racked with pain and anxiety. It was like a cry for help, a cry of panic. Someone out there wanted her, needed her. She had no clue who, which was apparently a side effect of Falling into Hell. All she had to do was endure this a little longer. Maybe then her questions would be answered.
In the distance, stood a tree. It was dead, as were most things in Hell, and perched on its branches were three vultures. They watched the Reaper and Penryn as they walked by, their pitch black eyes never closing.
"Tell me Penryn, do you believe in God?" The Reaper asked suddenly.
Surprised, Penryn looked up at the skeleton, who was staring stoically ahead.
"I'm not sure." Penryn replied truthfully.
"Humans love to argue over that." The Reaper said. "It's the first question they ask me when I reap their souls; especially after the angels invaded.
"In all my existence I have never met God, nor have I heard God's voice. Do you understand what that means Penryn? I've existed since the existence of Hell. I've existed longer than any universe, any civilization. I am one of the Eternals, cursed to simply be. And for all the billions of souls I have reaped I have not once met God nor have I felt the favor of God on any being."
Penryn listened without interruption.
"But the one thing that I have known to be true, to be consistent, to be unwavering: is that Death comes for all. I have seen Death ravage planets, have reaped souls that Death has mercilessly cut through. Women, children, men, young and old, rich and poor, all powerless in the face of Death. I have reaped souls who thought they were beyond the scope of Death, that because they had lived for so long that they were not susceptible to the grips of Death. But in the end they met my scythe. In truth, Death is the closest thing I have met to a God.
"That is who Death is." The Reaper said. "Unabashedly cruel."
"Why are you telling me this?" Penryn asked.
"No particular reason." The Reaper replied. "Though I will tell you this, and I will only repeat it once: keep your guard up at all times Daughter of Man."
The title itched at the back of Penryn's mind, like a memory that she could not access.
"Are you scared of Death?" Penryn asked.
"No." The Reaper replied. "I am simply intimate with who Death is, and who God is not."
Penryn did not reply this time. She felt like the Reaper had just divulged something that had been kept secret since the beginning of time. Just as she was puzzling over what had just been said to her, a rumbling took over the earth.
The Reaper stopped in their tracks, crossing their scythe casually across their chest. Penryn also stopped, her breaths coming in short and labored from the lack of air.
The ground before them split, a jarring scar that quickly grew and stretched for miles. Lava spit out from the crack, overflowing as a wall began to emerge from the ground. Penryn watched with awe as the massive structure grew from the ground. The gate made Penryn seem like a speck. It was so large, and imposing.
Skeletons with antler horns held the wall up on their shoulders. Long veils that covered their faces fell to the ground, unharmed by the lava, though a faint red dust covered the white veils. The bones were mainly humanoid, save for their hooves and the fact that they had no eye sockets. The gate was just black wood. When Penryn stepped closer though, she saw the carvings in the wood. Images of people screaming in pain as they held up a throne, where a hooded being sat, covered the wood. As she peered closer, she saw that the carvings were actually moving. The figures writhing in pain and trying to escape the crushing weight.
The Reaper began to walk forward, Penryn walking beside them. The Reaper came straight up to the imposing door, stopping just in front.
"Well?" They asked her, gesturing to the door. "Knock."
"Me?"
"Who else?"
With hesitancy, Penryn brought her fist up to the door, and knocked.
A lot of the imagery in this chapter is heavily inspired by Zdzislaw Beksinski, who stated that his paintings were like "dreams he photographed". When I first stumbled on them, I was taken aback by how vivid the images were, and how they reminded me of Hell. The gate especially, is based off this painting: . It is probably my favorite painting of his. When I write I usually have images in my head that show a particular scene. As I write I try my best to emulate that scene, though sometimes I find it hard to articulate. Bekinski's work makes me feel like I am stepping out of my mind and into his, which in turn helps me to see my work from a different angle.
I know that this is merely a fanfiction, but I always try to put my best efforts into everything I do. This fic is very important to me, and one that I feel reflects a lot of my life. I hope I am honoring Susan Ee's work in this, while simultaneously putting my own spin on it. Anyways, I hope you enjoy :)
-U