Obscura Fabula (Dark Shorts)

How Hell is Paved

2- How Hell is Paved

The darkness of the water was invaded by the flickering scarlet of the dancing torches floating above its surface. I held the golden coin tightly in my hand, the boarding pass to the Underworld.

There was no way back. Already dead, Hell seemed to be the best option for me, after all. I've committed suicide, realizing it was better for the world if I put a bullet in my brain... and so I did.

In my trembling hands I held the recently bought Taurus, while contemplating the beauty of the gun and thinking... or not thinking at all. It was the perfect one with the perfect bullets to bore a hole in my head.

A tear dripped down my cheek, the pistol's cold barrel on my right temple as I stared with sorrow the picture of my family. It was better for them anyway. An alcoholic father and spouse was the reason of my family's shame and suffering. They deserved a better life, without me.

The gun quivered in my hand, index finger in the trigger and PUM! A sudden and ephemeral white flair flashed and then darkness engulfed me.

I gasped to the image of the approaching specter. Beneath the loose and long sleeves of his ragged black cloak, Charon's long and bony fingers gripped moving back and forth the row, yet the stillness in the water remained imperturbable.

Under my feet, the dock wobbled when the ship hit one of the posts. It was a long and thin embarkation, adorned with human's putrid heads and skulls hanging all around it. His head up, Charon looked at me, bright red eyes was everything I could see underneath the hood. Inviting me, more a command than a polite or welcoming expression, the reaper extended his hand to me and soon I knew it was time. My last journey, the journey to Hell was about to start. After giving him the coin, I proceeded to embark.

An always quiet Charon rowed and rowed. In the way we got deeper into the cavernous vaults of the underworld, the heaviness in the air suffocated me. Sulfur burned my nostrils and itched on my skin. The river waters thickened, a hideous vapor emanated from the swampy stream, the stench of putrefaction and death. I was about to throw up, when I remembered I was dead. Dead don't vomit.

A deep and painful cry emerged from the water, hypnotizing in the most dreadful way... I thought of mermaids and ventured to the edge of the boat when it bumped into something. The ship wobbled and I held myself to the handrails to avoid falling. Louder,  the moans grew louder, deafening, terrifying. Styx was not the placid latrine it was before. Its water boiled, bubbling green at each side of the boat. With each scream I heard, shivers ran up my spine making me shiver..

"I recommend you to better stay in the middle of the boat. You don't want to be caught by one of those." Charon broke the silence in his sepulchral yet sardonic tone.

"One of what?" I retorted, but the question was answered in the moment I saw thousands of figures on the stream's surface. They were decayed human shapes, some of them rotten and others in the bones.

"The lost souls. The spirits of those who didn't receive an adequate burial when they died. No praying or funeral rites. They died and since they got no boarding pass, their souls are condemned to putrefy in the hideous dampness of the Styx."

The lost souls fought to reach the boat but couldn't. It was when something crawled up my leg. I shook my foot vehemently when I saw a hand, a solitary greenish hand grabbed my ankle. Screaming and kicking like a frightened kid I tossed the hand back into the water. Behind me, Charon cracked in a mischievous laughter, resonant, mocking on my misfortune.

I sat in the middle of the boat wondering about my fate. Knowing that my family would be better without me comforted my damned soul.

After a long ride, finally we reached the end of the river; a humongous port that resembled those Greek busy ports in ancient times or the ones in the trade region in North Africa. Beyond the port it rose a gigantic citadel with a fortress in the middle. Carved on the solid red rock wall, the city glowed in red and yellow, like burning fire and as we got closer to the port, I felt the heat blowing on my face and the smell of sulfur became unbearable. In the distance, a torrent of lava cascaded and human bodies flowed scorching along.

Despite the hideous place it was, the port teemed with life, if it is proper to say it so. Once we reached the dock, Charon gestured me to get off the boat and so I did. As I walked , I studied the place. Dark winged angels with pointy tails and horns hovered all over like vultures. On the road, a herd of rabid fauns chased some damsels and a few men. My stomach twitched and I cringed to what the goat-like creatures did do them and frightened I ran in the opposite direction. However, it was even worst what I stumbled upon there; huge red humanoid beings all naked dragging people with chains over burning stones. I cried to see those men screaming in pain as they left their skin glued to the blazing coal path.

I began to regret my decision, but it was too late. Already I was in hell and I did it all for my family.

"You must be Oswald." A tall dark winged angel stood in front of me.

"Yes. Who are you?" I stuttered.

"I'm Sahiel, your prosecutor... For the trial.

"For the trial? Who's gonna be in my defense?" Frightened and and confused, I retorted.

"Ha, funny guy. There is no defense here. Everyone is guilty." Sahiel grinned mischievously. "Come. They are waiting for you"

I had no other choice than to follow Sahiel. We walked down the crowded streets where the most horrendous beings, leftovers of humans, lied on the floor like beggars asking for compassion to redeem their souls. The cobblestoned pathways narrowed in the way we got closer to the castle on top of the hill.

Encircled in a thick set of walls, the citadel was a horrid place like no other, a moldy hideous dungeon. Demons hovered all around the place while a pair of horrendous gargoyles guarded the castle snarling and growling, reminding me of Cerberus.

Ahead of us a gigantic red iron door opened to a grand salon that by all means was a court. Almost shi*ting in my pants I stood in front of the judge; a fat and bearded red fiend-like creature. He rubbed and patted his bloated belly repeatedly before talking to Sahiel. "Who's the new fellow?"

"He's Oswald, a suicidal." Sahiel made a reverence.

"Do you want to say some words before I pronounce the verdict?" The judge addressed me.

Taking a step forward I stuttered, "I know suicide is a major sin. But I did it for my family. I gave my life with the best intention."

"Well, you know what they say, Hell isn't merely paved with good intentions, it's walled and roofed with them. I condemn you to the wall." The judge knocked twice his mallet and we were dismissed.

Two demons grabbed me by arms and dragged me to the outsides. We walked for a long time up and down the narrow streets of the citadel until we arrived to the rear stoned wall of Hell. I looked up and saw another pair of fiends nailing a man to the wall. The poor fellow screamed convulsing in pain every time the thick iron flat nails tore thought his skin, flesh and muscles on each extremity. I cringed with every strike of the hammer, goosebumps growing all over my skin.

"Come on Oswald", the demon behind me told me, pusheing me forwards. "There's a space in the vaulted ceilings of Hell for you. You are next."