Post Apocalypse: Tyranny & Chimpanzees

8. GUTS OF THE EARTH (B)

After everyone died, my survival instincts kicked in. Aggrieved I was, I felt strangely confident about fending for myself, kind of how I imagined being an adult would feel like.

And with that confidence, ironically, I marched the heights to the gate of hell, to get dragged in by demons, resigned to face my end.

I progressed to the top with high expectations of my doom, but surprisingly, nothing came. I was now so close that I could see the hole atop the mountain, close enough to notice the vapor that ascended from it, invisible from afar, and probably non-existent just a few days ago.

I walked all the way to the gate of hell unobstructed by any force, and peered into it. I saw liquid fire, bubbling like boiling water, except much, much, more viscous.

But there was no demon tormenting the lamenting souls of the dead. It was just a hot glowing pool of the Earth's guts completely devoid of any being's presence.

The wind arbitrarily changed direction for some damned reason, blowing the rising steam—or whatever it is—towards my face, startling me and causing me to cringe on reflex, stumbling partly down the hill.

It definitely wasn't steam. It was something much more hideous, and hotter than any steam I'd ever felt upon my skin, even hotter than the hot lake itself presently was.

I took a deep breath as I resisted the impulse to shriek in pain, vacuuming the smoke into my nostrils. it smelled like rotten eggs.

I receded down the hill clenching my throat and gagged reflexively, as my lungs tried to expell the terrible toxic gases.

By the time I'd returned to the village, I was staggering and asphyxiated. My throat was sore from coughing and my lungs took in less air after every exhale. Entering a tent, I collapsed and struggled to breath on the floor, writhing as I suffocated.

The corpses which had begun to smell repelled animals that would have killed me, a sick girl with a crossbow, and several other weapons she couldn't even wield on her own if she were even whole.

The top of the mountain really is a sort of gate to hell in the end. The first time in my entire life I've fallen sick was because of it, not even the contaminated water that killed everyone else.

Oh well, this is sort of okay, I guess. I was going to die one way or the other, all alone either way.

I got a rising sensation from my bowels, and dragged my body with my arms to the opening of the tent, projectile vomiting the last contents of my stomach, and turned my head to the side in order to avoid the sight of my vomit and the dead bodies outside, as that same stomach groaned in hunger and agony.

I'm thirsty. I began to shiver, feeling cold, taking just short breaths.

I decided that the last thing I would do was to get close to one of the hot streams before I died, because the cold was strangely the only thing so far that made me fearful, and I wanted to get rid of that fear, so I could at least die in peace. The initial phase after I'd inhaled the gases did, too, but it mostly filled me with this panicked feeling I'm sure was part of a natural response or something. This cold felt different. It was like my soul was freezing along with my body. Nonetheless, being at death's door had me feeling all sorts of strange.

I'd end up in hell for disobeying the instructions to stay away from there, even after receiving a painful death for it, but at least I could feel a normal warmth one last time before I face the eternal flames.

So I mustered my strength and managed to get my knees to hold some of my weight. Convinced that was the most I could do without falling over, I scraped my arms and knees along, to the stream very close to the tent, a mere thirty seconds of walking away.

It did take me about ten minutes to get there, though. Falling over and getting back on my fours countless times, it was by far the most odious journey I ever made yet, but one I was determined to finish.

I reached into the water with a medium sized dirty wooden bowl I was fortunate enough to find next to it and pulled it back out.

I blew on the clear steaming water and sipped at it weakly. At drawing the second bowl of water, it seemed like my end had come. My arms slumped and my vision went blank.

"Then what happened?"

"I woke up." I replied. "I wasn't dead. Maybe the gods forgave me, and brought me back to life."

"You still believe in the gods?" Servile seemed surprised, his tone almost condescending, which surprised me.

"Of course I do," I snapped. "That's a no brainer. Are you presuming that they don't?"

He appeared a bit taken aback by my reaction, which made me realize I was right in his face. I pulled back. It was quite impressive that he immediately regained his composure.

"That's ind...ation for you, I guess..."

"Sorry?"

"Uh, what about the priests, then?" He changed the topic, realizing he was uttering his thoughts. Whatever it was.

"It's obvious that they betrayed the gods and lied to us. It's either related to the gates of hell opening, or our drinking water. And everyone paid for it. Everyone except me. Perhaps it's because the devil interfered with my body before I was born... as a different..thing... They pitied me."

Servile was really curious. "Y..eah, about that. Is that why you cover yourself from head to toe? What exactly happened to you?"

"I'm ugly." I stated as-a-matter-of-factly.

"Please don't say that. I'm sure it's just—anyway, how exactly does it make you different? At least just tell me if you won't show—"

"Servile."

He paused.

There was silence. I decided not to say anything, because I would have spoken something really harsh.

Making my refusal clear, I switched the subject of interrogation. "You sure you want to do this?"

Servile took his eyes off my face—or rather, the shadow covering my face—and tilted his gaze upward. "...Yeah."

I halted. "You don't need to peek into the gate, yourself, you know."

I heard an indistinct mutter as Servile walked to the sheer cliff into hell at the top of the island. "I will come back, Neon. and then you'll tell me what happened after you woke up at the stream."

I stared from behind him in silence. The smoke rising from the hole was now significantly darker than when I first came here, and definitely could not be mistaken for water vapor.

Oh well, I tried to stop him. Now he's going to die. And then I won't be able to go back to the others, maybe they'll even find and kill me. If they don't, I can't build and control a ship capable of reaching another location. And when the flames of hell overflow. I will die.

"...Earth to Neon."

I turned my head to the source of the vice by my side, looked back at the summit, then at Servile once again.

"Well, still alive." He spread his arms to emphasize this fact.

I blinked. The tragic series of predictions in my head crumbled to bits. "Yeah. That's...convenient. Let's go."

I led the way back down the mountain.