Disclaimer: This story is not a theological treatise, and is not intended to adhere to any religion's view of the afterlife, nor does it necessarily reflect the theological views of the author.
To Hell and Back
By
James Doyle
Kola Peninsula
Murmansk Oblast, Russia
A Tipton Industries helicopter touched down outside a lone complex amidst the Russian tundra in the early morning hours of October 31. The passengers raised their hoods and braced themselves against the cold as they debarked, where an attractive blond Russian military officer awaited them.
"Good morning," greeted the officer. "I'm Colonel Matryoshka, and I will be your guide for this tour of the Kola Superdeep Bore Hole."
"Matryoshka?" echoed Cody.
"Yes," confirmed the colonel. "You may be familiar with my cousin Sasha, the junior chess champion."
"Nope, never heard of her!" Cody denied quickly.
"Hmm," responded the colonel. "Very well. This way, please."
"Tell me again why we're out here freezing butts off and not dancing ourselves silly at a Halloween party," grumbled London.
"It's the only day the Russian authorities could accommodate us," explained Cody.
"And Cody did win the contest to pick the topic for the fall semester educational tour," added Marion Moseby.
"So we took in enough radiation to make our grandkids glow in the dark at the Chernobyl site," contributed Emma Tutweiller.
"And saw a bunch of rusting military hardware at Murmansk," volunteered Zack.
"And now," concluded London, "We're going to see a big hole in the ground!"
"I can't believe you guys aren't excited to see the hole to hell," interjected Woody.
"Woody, for the last time," pleaded Tutweiller. "The hole does not go to hell. It's just a really deep hole."
"It does, too!" insisted Woody. "I found a whole website about it. They have audio clips of the damned crying out in agony."
"Oh yes, because it would impossible to fake something like that!" snarked Cody, starting to find even his own enthusiasm mitigated by Woody's absurdness and London's whining. Determined to derive at least some enjoyment from the experience, he tried his best to ignore his brother Zack, bringing up the rear hand-in-hand with his new girlfriend Maya.
"We're here," declared Colonel Matryoshka, opening the door and showing the group into the drilling complex.
Once inside, Cody surveyed the rig with wonder, taking pictures of everything he saw.
"Cody, I really don't think you should be prancing around like that," warned Tutweiller.
"It's perfectly safe," assured Matryoshka. "The armature, cables, and controls have been removed. The only thing that remains is the main shaft."
"So there's no chance we could slip and fall into hell?" Woody asked incredulously.
The colonel laughed. "That is an urban legend perpetuated by religious fanatics. The hole only penetrates about a third of the way through the earth's crust. Deposits of water, hydrogen, and temperatures of up to three hundred degrees Fahrenheit have been recorded, but nothing biblical or poetic. Besides, the bore is only twenty-one centimeters, or eight inches wide."
"See, Woody," added London. "You wouldn't even be able to get your huge head down the hole."
"Hurtful!" protested Woody.
"Yeah, and I don't think Cody's ego would fit, either," snickered Zack.
"I heard that," called Cody, not looking up from his picture-taking.
Just then, the ground began to shake. All except Cody braced themselves against the wall, who continued filming as an aperture formed around the central shaft and began to widen, causing heat and gases to escape. Shortly thereafter, the central shaft sank rapidly into the hole, leaving and open pit from whence even more heat and gas emanated, accompanied by a ghostly red glow.
"We need to evacuate," commanded Colonel Matryoshka.
Everyone nodded in agreement, and Cody had just started out the door behind him, when the ground shook again, causing him to lose his footing. He tumbled backwards and fell into the hole, clinging to the edge for the dear life.
"Help me!" pleaded Cody.
"I'm coming!" yelled Bailey, rushing to his rescue.
Bailey took hold of Cody's and attempted to pull him up. However, the ground surrounding the hole began to collapse into it, causing Bailey to lose her grip, with Moseby and Tutweiller barely able to pull her to safety by her legs. They could only look on in horror as Cody's sustained scream became fainter with distance until it faded away.
Some time later, Cody had stopped screaming and begun calculating as he continued to free fall.
"Let's see," he pondered. "Accelerating at nine-point-eight meters per seconds-squared, over a distance of fourteen thousand meters...I should've hit bottom by now. What's taking so long?"
No sooner had Cody said that than the hole opened up into a vastly wider expanse. Managing to flip himself over, he found himself falling toward a seemingly-infinite layer of dark red thunderclouds, pierced at various points by volcanic plumes. After passing through the clouds, he had little time to survey what lie beneath them before coming to an abrupt stop.
"Argh, son of a..." groaned Cody in reaction to the intense throbbing pain in every single part of his body, including a few he didn't know he had.
When the pain subsided enough that he could think straight, Cody determined his face to be in contact with the familiar wooden deck of the S.S. Tipton, onto which he'd done far more face-plants than he would've cared to admit. As he turned his head slightly, he could identify the outboard safety rails and the staircase leading up to the Fiesta Deck.
"Oh, thank goodness," Cody muttered to himself. "It was all just a bad dream."
As Cody slowly rose to his feet however, he discovered this not to be the case. The décor of the Sky Deck had taken on a much more lavish Victorian flavor. As he looked out over the rail, he could see the layer of dark red clouds through which he'd fallen, which extended for some distance over the red, bubbling sea. Upon further analysis, he determined that the sea contained not water, but...could it be...blood.
Taking in the sounds of the realm, Cody realized he wasn't alone. The bubbling of the sea and countless faint-but-distinct screams of agony provided the ambient noise. In addition, every so often, a person would fall screaming through the sky and into the sea. Before he could fully process this, a hideous figure, too battered and burned to be identifiable as human, climbed up over the railing and seized Cody, attempting to pull him over.
Cody fought desperately to gain the advantage, but it seemed inevitable that the monster would drag him under. No sooner had he concluded this than a whip made of fire came around from behind him and severed the creature's hands, causing it to fall back into the sea.
"Don't worry," said the female voice behind Cody as she took her place beside him, taking the two severed hands and tossing them back into the sea.
"Why?" asked Cody, the only word his mouth could form in his morbidly terrified state.
"Duh, so I can cut them off again," answered the woman.
As Cody turned to face his rescuer, as it were, he saw a young Hispanic woman, clad in an elegant red dress that showed just a bit more cleavage than he'd have considered decent, and her dark brown hair piled elaborately atop her head, with a lock falling on each side of her face. He identified her form as that of a young woman his brother Zack had pursued for a short time. Yet, he somehow doubted this was actually her.
"I'm guessing you're not really Alex Russo," observed Cody.
"No, of course not," confirmed the woman. "Much of what you experience in this place is of your own making."
"And what place might this be?" asked Cody, starting to piece it together for himself.
"It's been known by many names," answered the woman. "Sheol, Gehenna, Hades, the Netherworld, Perdition..."
"You mean to say we're in Hell?" asked Cody, coming to the conclusion he'd pieced together, but still quite incredulous.
The woman smiled and clapped. "There's that genius-level IQ!"
"Well, yes," Cody boasted. "Though I must admit, out of many academic pursuits, I've not had much energy to devote to the study of theology."
The woman laughed. "Oh, Cody! You were always so full of yourself. I always liked that about you."
"Liked that about me?" echoed Cody. "You know me?"
"Of course I do," answered the woman. "I've had my eye on you for some time."
At last, Cody put all the pieces together.
"Oh my God!" cried Cody, being well-past the point of minced oaths. "You're...you're..."
"Yeah, yeah, Lucifer, Beelzebub, Satan, the Adversary, the Accuser," the Devil said nonchalantly. "For hell's sake, I wish you mortals would just pick one!"
At that, Cody closed his eyes and crossed his fingers.
"And just what do you think you're doing?" asked the Devil with a hint of a chuckle.
"You're not real," said Cody. "None of this is real. There is no heaven; there is no hell. This is all just a bad dream."
The Devil laughed uncontrollably at that remark.
"You're of course referring to my masterpiece," noted the Devil.
"What's that?" asked Cody, determining that sheer willpower wasn't going to get him out of this.
"My greatest feat ever," elaborated the Devil. "Convincing the world that I don't exist!"
"People believe you exist," argued Cody. "Bailey does, Maddie Fitzpatrick does, Moseby does, and I'm pretty sure London does, too."
"Oh, sure, there are a few hold-outs," granted the Devil. "But there are enough people blindly following the path to ruin that I manage to get a steady stream of souls."
"Of course!" cried Cody. "Everybody's been annoyed with me lately for some reason, and they're all trying to teach me a lesson. This is all an elaborate hoax."
"A hoax, you say?" said the Devil, playing along for the moment.
"And you really are Alex Russo," continued Cody, "And they somehow talked you into going along with this scheme."
"Okay, you're clearly not getting this," grumbled the Devil.
"Path to ruin," chuckled Cody. "How cheesy can you get!"
With that, the Devil's attractive female head turned into a dragon's head made of fire, and jumped into Cody's face.
"Does this look like a big joke to you?" shouted the Devil, her voice lower in pitch with reverb.
"No, no!" cowered Cody. "You really are the Devil! I believe you! Honest!"
The Devil returned to her attractive female form, maintaining the fire in her eyes.
"I was hoping not to have to resort to such theatrics," lamented the Devil, her voice having returned to that of Alex Russo, but retaining its reverb.
"Okay, okay," conceded Cody. "So you were telling me about how I was on the path to ruin."
The Devil laughed again. "Do you really think I'd have gone to such lengths to acquire you if all I wanted was to make another swimmer out of you?"
Cody donned a puzzled look at that last statement.
"Swimmers," repeated the Devil. "You know, damned souls, swimming in the sea of blood, boiling for all eternity? Work with me, here!"
"Right," acknowledged Cody. "Sorry."
"As I was saying," continued the Devil. "I've brought you here for a special purpose."
"What purpose?" asked Cody.
"All in good time," assured the Devil. "Before we get down to business, I'd like to give you my personal tour."
"Lead the way," requested Cody, sensing that this tour was non-optional.
"As you may have guessed," narrated the Devil as she escorted Cody through the luxury suites, "The S.S. Screwtape is my personal residence and headquarters at those times in which I'm sailing the Sea of Blood. It's also the eternal home of the more...how shall I say...exceptional souls in my dominion."
"The ones you like to torment yourself," deduced Cody.
"Exactly," affirmed the Devil. "Let's start with the Presidential Suite."
"Nein, nein, nein!" cried a short, mustachioed fellow as he scattered the tokens on the map in front of him.
"Da, da, da!" cried a taller fellow with a fuller mustache as he reset the pieces with great frustration.
"You made Hitler and Stalin roommates," observed Cody.
"Magnificent, isn't it?" gloated the Devil. "They do a fine job of tormenting one another. All I have to do is sit back and watch. Moving on."
The next stop was the lounge, where the guests writhed in agony as their chains prevented them from covering the ears, forcing them to endure Tiny Tim's repeated performance of "Tiptoe Through the Tulips." From there, they proceeded to the bar, where a crowd of drunkards with frothy mugs forced a tall, muscular fellow to perform parlor tricks for them.
"That guy looks familiar," noted Cody.
"His name's Gaston," explained the Devil. "He was a member of my senior staff, but I had to demote him for his incompetence. But we'll get to that later. So tell me, Cody: What are your accomplishments?"
"Accomplishments?" asked Cody.
"Yeah," said the Devil. "You know, science fair ribbons, essay contest prizes, citizenship awards. You do have a few of those right?"
"Well, I don't like to brag..." began Cody.
"Yes you do," interrupted the Devil. "Rubbing your success in others' faces is your favorite activity."
"Well," said Cody indignantly. "I wasn't expecting a Spanish Inquisition."
At that moment, a figure in red robes burst out of one of the cabin doors.
"Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!" declared the priest.
The Devil groaned. "Cody, this Cardinal Ximenez, head of the Pharisee Corps. Cardinal, this Cody Martin."
"Ah, yes," said Ximenez, drawing out his final s. "The new recruit."
"New recruit?" asked Cody.
"Cardinal!" admonished the Devil. "Don't give away the surprise."
"Sorry," whimpered the Cardinal, clearly fearing whatever rebuke the fallen angel had in store for him. "My bad."
"Don't give me excuses," rebuked the Devil. "I want Fred Phelps and his brood, so get back to work!"
"Right away," obeyed Ximenez, returning to his cell.
"Now, then," continued the Devil. "I think that'll do it for the tour. What do you say we get down to business?"
With that, the Devil led Cody through a set of heavy wooden doors, which she cast open with a wave of her hands, and did likewise shutting the doors behind them. Once inside, Cody found himself in a lavishly-decorated room – the most luxurious on the ship – with a long wooden table in the center, filled to the brim with gourmet foods, and a number of musical instruments on the other end, one of which was a harpsichord, from which eerie-yet-elegant Baroque music played.
"Ira, don't you ever tire of playing that tune?" whined an all-too-familiar voice.
"Silence, you little piss-ant!" threatened the one playing the music, an African-American fellow in a powdered wig and American Colonial period dress, whom Cody identified as the form of Moseby. "Or I shall tear you into tiny morsels and feed you to the serpents."
"Yeah, yeah," dismissed the young man, who took the form of Zack's brother Cody, clad in a robe with unkempt hair. "Just play something different."
Ira growled. "Very well."
With that, Ira began playing a much more contemporary tune, one Cody was much more accustomed to hearing played on guitar, and someone began to sing.
I see a red door and
I want it painted black
No colors anymore
I want it painted black
I see the girls walk by
Dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head
Until the darkness goes
As the group got up and danced, Cody began to identify the rest of them. Clad in a typical designer outfit and adorned head-to-toe with bling was London Tipton. Clad in an Imperial Russian peasant woman's costume was Emma Tutweiller. Finally identifying the source of the singing, Cody saw his father, Kurt Martin, clad in tight leather pants and a matching vest. The only person not dancing was Woody, chewing on an enormous leg of mutton and clad in a toga, covered in the front with a lobster bib.
As the song finished, everyone except Cody and Ira cheered.
"Ah, come on, Groucho," goaded Kurt. "Don't you ever crack a smile?"
"I'll be smiling the day I pull your bottom lip up over your head," barked Ira.
"What's going on here?" demanded Cody. "Are all my friends and family damned, too?"
"Oh, relax," groaned the Devil. "They're all alive and well and probably still trying to figure out how to pull you up out of that hole."
"Then who are these people?" asked Cody.
"I was getting to that," answered the Devil. "Cody, I would like you to meet my Privy Council."
The Devil walked over to Moseby's figure first.
"This is Ira," she introduced, "My Secretary of Anger."
She then moved over to Woody, not interrupting his feast as she put her hand on his shoulder.
"This is Gula, Lord of the Gluttons."
Next, she introduced Kurt. "This is Luxuria, Chief Purveyor of Lust."
"I always thought that one would be a girl," interjected Cody.
"Most people do," noted Luxuria.
The Devil then introduced Zack. "This is Socordia the Shiftless, in charge of sloth."
Next came London. "This is Avaritia, the Matriarch of Greed."
Finally, the Devil introduced Tutweiller. "And this is Invidia the Ungrateful, my Minister of Envy."
"Ah, yes, of course," observed Cody. "The Seven Deadly Sins. Except, you left one out."
"Yes," acknowledged the Devil. "Do tell, Cody, which one was it?"
"Pride," Cody declared. "The deadliest of all sins, the sin from whence all others flow."
"Quite right," affirmed the Devil. "And why, do you suppose, I left that one out?"
"Well," speculated Cody. "London fits the bill pretty well for that one. She must be pulling double duty.
"Wrong!" shouted the Devil, causing Cody to jump back a foot.
"Okay," whimpered Cody. "Why, then?"
"You remember Gaston, right?" asked the Devil.
Cody nodded.
"Such a temper!" recalled Ira.
"Wouldn't lift a finger to do anything for himself," added Socordia.
"Never enough wealth or power for him," contributed Avaritia.
"Are you kidding?" argued Invidia. "He always wanted more of everything!"
"Yeah," agreed Gula with his mouth full. "All this food was never enough for him."
"I'll tell you what, though," noted Luxuria. "He got all the hot chicks."
"And yet," concluded the Devil, "He just wasn't up to the task."
"How so?" asked Cody.
"Look at the world you left," explained the Devil. "People are being more kind, charitable, humble, hard-working, moderate, and patient than ever. Not necessarily more chaste, though. " The Devil looked over at Luxuria. "Nice work."
Luxuria smiled. "I do my worst."
"But you," said the Devil to Cody, keeping her hands on his shoulders as she circled around him. "You, Cody Martin, are a prime candidate to be my new second-in-command."
"I don't know what you're talking about," denied Cody.
"Don't you?" argued the Devil. "Was it not you who developed the Six Month Plan?"
Cody grinned. "A meticulously-crafted piece if I do say so myself."
"Indeed," agreed the Devil. "Bailey would have been yours if you'd just asked her out. But of course, you couldn't allow that. That would place her on equal footing with you. No, you had to be in control of the situation. You had to know exactly what buttons to push so you could bend her to your will."
"It wasn't like that!" protested Cody.
"Oh, but it was!" insisted the Devil. "Only she wasn't so easily controlled. So you did the next worst thing: You made her fight for dominance in the relationship; drew her into your obsession with being the undisputed master of everything. In so doing, you drew her away from her family and friends; made her abandon everything she held dear in order to hold onto you. Thus, you led her down the path of destruction."
"If if that were true," argued Cody. "And I'm not saying it is, it didn't work. She broke up with me. She ripped out my heart, stomped on it, and threw it off the deck of the Eiffel Tower."
"Very good," approved the Devil. "A true master of the proud must never accept his own responsibility. No matter the evidence to the contrary, he must always lay the blame upon the shoulders of others."
"It was her fault!" insisted Cody.
"Excellent," praised the Devil. "After all, you planned the perfect anniversary date for her, to show her that you are the epitome of the perfect man. The fact that she would've preferred a much simpler affair only shows her lack of appreciation for your greatness."
"That's not why I did that!" protested Cody.
"And then you took on an apprentice," continued the Devil, ignoring Cody's protest. "You counseled your brother to do as you did, to manipulate Maya to do his bidding as you did with Bailey."
"That's not what I was doing," said Cody. "And anyway, it didn't work."
"No, of course not," noted the Devil. "For as hard as we have tried to lead Zack down the path of ruin, deep in his heart, he's a man of virtue. I fear he may be lost to us."
"You leave my brother alone!" demanded Cody.
"You needn't worry about him," assured the Devil. "He always does the right thing in the end. But what of your beloved Bailey?"
"Why should I care about her?" remarked Cody.
The Devil laughed. "Do you really think you can deceive the Mother of Lies? No, I know that deep in your heart, you still care for her. It sickens me, but because your potential to lead others astray is so great, I'm willing to offer you a deal."
"What kind of a deal?" asked Cody.
"Time is fluid here in Perdition," explained the Devil. "Only a brief moment has passed on the surface. Your beloved Bailey is poised even now to dive in after you."
"She wouldn't," hoped Cody.
"I assure you," argued the Devil. "She would. And anyone who voluntarily enters my domain is mine to do with as I please. Of course, I could could be persuaded to close up the hole and prevent her from doing such a thing."
"In exchange for what?" asked Cody.
"Isn't it obvious?" said the Devil. "Take your place in my council as Superbia, the Supreme Leader of the Proud, and I'll spare her life."
A flame appeared in the Devil's hand, which coalesced into a scroll. She cleared a spot off the table by shoving the food thereupon unto the floor, and unfurled the scroll before Cody.
"Could you translate that for me?" requested Cody.
"Quit stalling," demanded the Devil. "I know you can read Latin."
Cody nodded, and quickly scanned the document. According to the text, Cody would receive an appointment as Satan's Secretary of Pride, which he would retain on the basis of performance reviews, to be conducted at the Devil's discretion. However, he could be demoted at any time, and no matter what, his soul would belong to Satan for eternity.
He contemplated the risk. The Devil had correctly pointed out that Cody still cared for Bailey. He wanted to guarantee her safety. Alas, he knew could not. Signing the scroll would complete the journey to ruin he now realized he'd been traveling for so long. He knew that he would do Bailey no justice by leading countless other down that path.
"No," refused Cody. "I won't do it. This ends now."
The Devil sighed. "As you wish."
Two tall, muscular demons, who took the form of Becky Muldoon and Brick, the middle school bully, picked Cody up and carried him up above decks.
"I gave you a chance to take your pride and be a master of souls," lamented the Devil. "But since you refused, I'll have to content myself with seeing you stripped of your vanity over the course of eternity in the sea of blood."
"Not so fast!" interrupted a familiar voice.
"Bailey!" cried Cody, looking up to see his ex-girlfriend, her battered and burned form slowly returning to normal.
"Seize her!" ordered the Devil.
"I just swam two hundred miles through the dregs of humanity," retorted Bailey. "Do you really think you two goons scare me?"
With that, the two demons dropped Cody and took off in the other direction. Instinctively, Cody pushed past the Devil and took his place behind Bailey.
"Do you really think that just because you intimidated a couple of my underlings that you could defeat me, the Princess of Darkness?" provoked the Devil.
"Cody's already put me through hell," answered Bailey. "I can handle anything you can throw at me."
"We'll see about that," declared the Devil as she took on the form of a dragon, devouring Cody and Bailey.
As she reached the Sky Deck, however, Cody and Bailey burst forth from her gut, seemingly unscathed by the fire that poured therefrom. Not to be deterred, the Devil shot up into the sky, transforming into an enormous, terrifying color wheel, which shot every conceivable assault at the former couple, from knives, to spears, to bullets, to lava rocks, to small tactical nukes.
Ultimately, it proved futile. It appeared to the Devil that nothing could assail Cody and Bailey as they held onto one another for dear life. Eventually, the Devil relented, resuming her female form.
"So what?" the Devil asked in frustration. "Are you two just going to keep holding onto each other for eternity?"
"If we have to," answered Bailey.
"You've been trying to tear us apart for past two years," discovered Cody. "You knew that Bailey was the only thing keeping me from crossing over to the dark side."
The Devil nodded. "And I thought I'd succeeded in Paris, but apparently, you two have been carrying a torch for each other all along."
Cody cupped Bailey's face in his hands and gazed into her eyes. "I never should have let you go. I should've gone down on my knees and begged you not to leave. I should've given you my solemn promise to grow, and change, and be the man you deserve."
"None of that matters anymore," responded Bailey. "Even if we have to spend eternity here, at least we'll know that nothing she does can ever tear us apart."
"I love you, Bailey," confessed Cody.
"I love you, too, Cody," reciprocated Bailey. With that, they embraced so tightly that nothing in hell or earth could come between them.
"Ugh," reviled the Devil. "If I have to watch this for all eternity, I'll be punishing myself!"
"Wait," said Cody, "Does that mean..."
"Loathe as I am do this, yes," interrupted the Devil, stirring up a tempest that sucked the couple up through the clouds.
"Be good to each other," called the Devil after them. "I don't want to see you here again."
When the smoke and fire cleared, Cody and Bailey found themselves hanging from a ledge just a few feet below the mouth of the bore hole, into which a chain had been lowered.
"Grab hold," called Colonel Matryoshka.
Cody and Bailey did as instructed, and a crane hoisted them out of the hole. A group of medics escorted the two battered, soot-covered friends onto a pair of stretchers, which carried them into a helicopter, and lifted them off to a nearby medical facility.
About a day later, Cody woke up in the infirmary of the S.S. Tipton, with Bailey occupying the bed next to them.
"Bailey?" he called weakly.
"It's okay, baby," she assured, extending her hand across the gulf to take his. "I'm here."
"Oh, thank God, you're alive," cried Cody. "We're alive."
"Yes," agreed Bailey. "We are."
"Going to hell isn't usually the sort of thing you live to tell about," noted Cody.
"Cody," said Bailey. "There's something you should know. The bore hole opened up, and you fell in. Against the Colonel's advice, I went in after you."
"Yes," acknowledged Cody. "And I can never adequately thank you for that."
"What you don't know," continued Bailey, "Is Miss Tutweiller told me the reason the hole open up is a small earthquake exposed a gas pocket. We were knocked unconscious for a few minutes, but near as anyone can tell, neither of us actually went to hell."
Cody turned to face Bailey. "Do you really believe that?"
Bailey shook her head. "I honestly don't know."
"It doesn't matter," declared Cody. "What matters is I realize now how horribly I treated you. And no matter how sorry I am, nothing I say can ever change that."
"What you say is true," granted Bailey. "But that doesn't mean I can't forgive you, and it doesn't mean we can't move forward."
"Does this mean there's still hope for us?" asked Cody.
Bailey pondered for a moment. "If we both get help, and work through our issues, then there just might be."
"Agreed," said Cody. "Though I somehow doubt Mr. Blanket is qualified to help us."
Bailey laughed. "Given what we've been through, I think the ship's chaplain might be more appropriate."
And thus began the healing process for Cody and Bailey. It would be exhausting and painful, and no one knew what the future held for their relationship. Yet, then and there, they knew that in whatever capacity, they would always been there for another: Whatever they would do, and wherever they would go, even to hell and back.
The End
Song Credit:
"Paint It, Black"
Written by Mick Jagger and Keith Richards
Originally performed by The Rolling Stones
From the album Aftermath (1966)
The Kola Superdeep is a real bore hole in the Kola Peninsula, near the Norwegian border in the Russian arctic. It reaches a depth of 12 km (about 8 mi), where temperatures reach 180°C (300°F). There is an urban legend that claims the hole penetrated the Underworld. This claim has been thoroughly refuted by reputable religious and secular authorities.
Thanks for reading!
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