

Journal of a Dead Man

Volume 1

by Alexander Collas

To those who have helped me along the way:

My Mother, Kyler and many wonderful friends.

All rights reserved.  
Copyright ©2015 Alexander Collas

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Entry 1

Today I died. Yes, died! Not the typical starting place for a journal. Normally at this point it's more common to have the voyeurs in one's life as they are cleaning out your effects stumble across your private musings. They will look guiltily at each other, seeking approval, as they dive eagerly into your confessions, searching for your hidden secrets and past disgraces. A playbill to provide hours, if not days, of critical review and scandalous dinner conversations for those who wished to remember fondly the parts of a life they chose to critique. The bastards!

Oh well, enough about them. Before we get into Hell and all that's around me, let's take care of some housekeeping. This is just the overview. I'll fill in more later. The first logical question would be, how does a dead person, in Hell, write a journal and you get to read it?

While alive, I considered myself a writer. I arrived at my somewhat unexpected post-life destination and was met by a snarly looking old man. He didn't stand tall and he smelled. He walked with me down the long tunnel explaining that I had been chosen. It originally sounded as if I was being rewarded. He explained that part of my eternal reward, you know the one we hear so much about, will be recording my experiences in Hell. YES, HELL... I WENT TO FUCKING HELL! Sorry, I had to get that out.

Already I didn't like this asshole. He continued to explain that apparently a follower of "The Dark Lord" has done a deal and will get my journal entries. Yes, I am in Fucking Hell. Yes, I am destined for eternal torment, and, to make matters worse, someone else is going to get credit for my work. That's just messed up. The world will see this as a work of fiction. No one will know there's a real person -- well, ex-real person -- somewhere actually suffering and experiencing what they're reading and giggling about.

So how am I going to write? There are no laptops in Hell. OH NO... this horrid THING is going to follow me around and extract the entries directly from my head. Yes, a little creature. It has wings and is about a foot long. I would say its most like a giant mosquito if not for its long barbed tail and mouth full of pointed teeth accented by its long nasty tongue. This creature uses its sharp appendage to extract my entries. It shoves its tongue right into my skull and literally extracts my words in a sucking action.

I can hear you ask "Does it hurt?" Fuck yes, it hurts. It's horribly painful and leaves a small seeping wound, oozing a green puss-like substance until the wound heals in a few hours. This is how I'll record my trip through the afterlife and my punishment in the world of the dead. It brings a whole new meaning to the regurgitations of my muse. If that isn't enough to make you want a scone and a cup of coffee as you read on, nothing will. So sit back and enjoy.

Entry 2

I guess the first thing you'd want to know is "What does Hell look like?". Well, that'll have to wait until I get used to saying, "I am in FUCKING Hell!" This wasn't expected. True, I didn't live a perfect life, but I didn't think I had lived a life worthy of eternal damnation.

Like I said, I was a writer. It was my life to think of things, to live life, to experience, either as myself or vicariously through others. During the 35 years of said life, I had published little things, but I had never gotten that big break. Well, one day it finally came. I knew I had written an amazing novel, so much so the publisher flew me to New York to meet and talk about our future working together. I awoke early that morning and decided to do the "New York" thing and go to a coffee shop, and then walk to the offices of the publisher. As the light changed, I stepped out into the street and... BAM! One of those bike messengers you hear about hit me. He fell toward the curb as I fell the other way. The next thing I saw was a tire, I heard a horn followed by the cracking of bones, then darkness... and I awoke here. HERE, IN HELL.

So let's say your day starts bad, you die and end up in Hell. What would your first thoughts be? Mine were "Oh wow, can they publish my book now without paying me royalties?" That probably shouldn't have been my first thought, but there I sat on the shores of a river -- yup... a river, how cliché -- wondering if the publishing company could screw me out of my royalties and still publish my book.

I wasn't alone by that river. There were lots of people with me, some just standing shocked, some wandering around lost, a lot crying, some screaming. I can only assume their reaction was based on their level of understanding as to what had just happened to them. I personally fell into the shocked category, in case you were wondering.

Sitting beside me was a guy in a business suit with rope burns around his neck. He looked at me and said, "Am I in Hell?"

"Yup, sucks huh..." I wasn't sure what else to say. Breaking to someone that their eternal reward is damnation was just a little outside my pay grade.

"I jumped off the chair, felt the rope pull tight then hung there as the room slowly faded," replied the guy.

"Suicide huh? That explains the rope marks on your neck." I chuckled; he did not see the same humor. Then it stuck me "Wait does that mean we keep the body we had at the time of our death?" In horror I reached up to feel my head and sure enough there were sharp points, patches of hair with gaps in between. Bringing both hands to each side of my head, it was actually a little flat. In Hell with a squished skull. The day just keeps getting better.

"What do I look like?" I asked, cringing. I felt like I was cringing anyway.

"Honestly, I assumed you were having a bad enough day, but since you asked... um... You look like hell, pardon the pun. How did you die? Your head looks like a grilled cheese sandwich. It's flat, with broken bits protruding out everywhere. And I'm guessing those are your brains squished out like the warm cheese part of the sandwich. Oh, what I would give for a grilled cheese sandwich right now. Oh sorry! Forgive me but you are pretty gross." He chuckled.

Great, now I have to deal with Karma too?

Well, I didn't see much else to say after that, so I just sat back against the rocks behind me with my new friend who I named "the guy in a suit", and we looked out into the water. There's only so much the mind can take in, and we had reached our limit.

Entry 3

I'm now officially a resident of Hell. First I discovered we still needed to sleep. I don't think it's from tiredness of body as much as tiredness of spirit. We also needed to feed. I hadn't even realized I was hungry until just down the shore several damned, like me, were ripping another creature apart and ravenously devouring its raw flesh. It was then that the pain of hunger consumed me. I fought it, terrified at the idea of what it meant.

As the corpse slowly grew smaller, a panic arose in me. I raced down the shoreline and, with fierceness, began throwing other lost souls aside as I started ripping pieces of the carcass away from its host. It was then, after I had taken the first bite, that I realized it was still alive. I froze in horror, seeing its contorted face, watching the mouth try to scream in pain, but no sound would come: its throat had been torn out. Every bite I took of the flesh, every time someone ripped a new piece off, this creature's face registered the pain. It could feel us eating it.

When I was done, I slunk away, crying. My body and mind could bear no more. I crawled in a hole in the rocks I had found -- it was a "safe place" -- and there I passed into a nightmare-filled slumber. Oh yes, I feel now I'm a creature of Hell.

Entry 4

I should set the mood. We're in a huge cave, and I mean HUGE. The newly dead arrive on the shores a great river to our front with towering cliff walls to our backs. The shore isn't very deep, maybe 200 feet from rocks to water. People just come walking through the rock walls like they don't even exist. You can't walk back through once you're in, so it's a one way trip onto the shore. I don't really remember what's on the other side before we walk through; after all I had just died, so I wasn't thinking too clearly. I do remember the old guy and the tunnel, but that's about it.

The shore vanished into the River Styx, but the word "river" makes it sound small and it's not. It's massive, extending both ways as far as the eye can see. It goes out in front of us for what looks like a mile.

The roof of the cave is a good 1000 feet above and always dripping some kind of oily liquid onto the shore and into the water. There's no day, there's no night, and it's always that dusk-right-before-the-sun-sets kind of light. I'm told that if you walk along the shore you'll eventually end up back where you started, so I guess it's like a doughnut. I haven't tried, nor do I plan too.

Off in the distance, there's a great column of stone that goes all the way to roof. Huge creatures like bats circle it endlessly. That, my gentle readers, is where you initially end up upon arriving in Hell.

The big news is I saw my first real demon. He came walking down the shore, yelling at everyone and making announcements. I wonder who you had to piss off in Hell to get the job of making announcements to the newly dead along the shores of the River Styx. Oh, and I was told the river is actually called Styx. I was originally just using the common name for it when I first called it that. I was disappointed to learn there's no ferryman; that's just a myth. I also learned that this is actually Pre-Hell. Yeah, I said Pre-Hell. I guess it's like the lobby you'd find at a movie theater only full of... well... dead people so more like the lobby of the average church.

As I understand it, once we're ready to move on to our eternal reward, all we have to do is wade out into the water and they take it from there. That information is according to the headless guy down the beach. Yes, he has a head; it's just not attached. He said that if you sit here on the shore too long, they'll come along and chunk you in. It's not uncommon for people to decide that since they're in Hell, maybe hanging out on the shores of the River Styx for all eternity is the way to go. Nope. They throw your ass in after a while.

I learned that part was true not long thereafter when our current demon announced he was about to clean the beach. The next thing I knew, he was chucking people into the water. In a great krupuk they hit the water, most of them screaming and waving their arms. That is until they sank.

When the Demon got close, I asked him how long we could hang out on the shore. He looked at me, made a smart remark about my squished head and then told me I still had a couple of days. So fuck it, I'm working on my tan.

OK, I know what you're thinking -- so far 4 entries about a guy in Hell and it's all about me. Yeah, the poor little dead guy with the grilled cheese head. Now just describe the demon already! Right, that's what you're thinking, isn't it? Well, he's pretty much exactly what you'd expect. He was huge, I mean like 12 feet tall, cloven hooves, horns, and his skin was red. He was nude with a dick so long he could have thrown over his shoulder. Not sure what else there is to say about him. You already have a picture in your head, so go with that. If a more interesting looking one shows up, I'll let ya know. So there you have it for this entry. Check back soon to see what happens next.

Entry 5

I know it seems like I'm taking all this in stride. Nope, not really, But what can I say? To be honest, it hasn't been so bad so far, sitting on the banks of the river, seeing all sorts of horrid people come through the cliff walls. I've discovered that Earth isn't the only planet where sinners go to Hell because some of the things that came onto the beach are clearly not from Earth.

It's almost like we were put on this river's shore so we can adjust to what has happened to us and, like me, think about what we did during the course of our lives that caused us to end up here. I'm still not sure.

Different people deal with it in different ways. Some, like myself, sit here until they're chucked in while others show up, look around and haul ass into the water, like they knew where they were going and were ready to get on with it. But hanging out on the shore does have its benefits. It starts to break you down, the eating thing, seeing the different ways people die and thus arrive really starts to prepare you for what's next.

One of the interesting things I learned is what happens to those idiots who blow themselves up in the name of their "god". Well, first it's clear they don't get 72 virgins but instead they get sent to Hell. They arrive here in chunks, since they come in the way they went out. So basically they become instant food for the hungry masses; I know I had a few pieces earlier today. (As we were eating, The Guy in a Suit gave them the name "Martyr Tartar" and it stuck.) Also, since they can't get to the waterline, being chunks and all, to start their journey into the real Hell, they just have to lay there suffering while they get gnawed on until a demon with a shovel comes along and scoops up whatever is left and chucks it into the water. Personally, I think it's a very fitting end to such a stupid practice, definitely just desserts.

The same demon as yesterday, who seems to be in charge, came along again today and even remembered me. He said as he walked by "get ready, tomorrow time's up," so clearly I'm about to find out what's really in store for me. It appears me and "The Guy in a Suit" will end up going in at the same time. Stay tuned in for the next entry of The Journal of a Dead Man where I'll actually be in Hell. I hope you're excited because I'm not.

Entry 6

Today is the day. Today I go into the real Hell. Just up the shore I see the Demon, and he's smiling at me while he mindlessly chucks others into the water. I think I've made a friend. I'm scared shitless.

"So, little man, today is your day. You ready?" asked the Demon.

"I guess. There's nothing I can do about it, is there?" I asked.

"Nope. You walking in, or you going to let me chunk you in?"

"I was thinking about that. What's your best distance?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've only seen you pitch others into the water. Put your back into it. How far out there do you think you can get me? I'm talking distance and arc."

The Demon smiled at that. "I do not know. I have never had anyone offer to be a discus for me."

"Well, let's find out. I might as well go in style."

Then without warning he grabbed me by one arm and one leg, did two quick spins, and next thing I knew I was flying out over the surface of the water. When I looked back at the shore, people were standing there whooping and cheering. At least my last act before going into Hell proper was to bring everyone some joy.

I have to say the Demon did well. He actually almost bounced me off the center pillar. But nope, I stopped midair and dropped with a splat into the water where I floated for a few seconds before feeling a force pulling me down. It wasn't like someone was dragging me; it was more like an undertow.

Next thing I knew I was sinking; all the fun was gone. I was underwater, drowning, breathing the liquid into my lungs. I started to flail but it did no good. In no time at all I was disoriented. I tried to scream but my mouth and lungs were full of fluid. Then, after what seemed like forever, I didn't see water any longer. I hung there in mid-air, then started falling, I mean a long way. It's funny, they say it's not the fall that kills you. Well when I hit, I hit hard. I just slammed into the ground. Stunned.

When I was finally able to lift my head, I looked around. I was not where I had been. Now I was on a great plain that extended off into the distance, ending at a massive castle. Its huge dark battlements extending to the sky. At first it was really hard to make out much detail since the stones used in its construction appeared to be the same as the mountains behind it.

People were still falling from the sky in a steady flow, laying there for a bit after landing then getting up to take in their new surroundings. I finally got myself up onto my feet, and then it was my turn to stand there in shock. It wasn't the castle they were all looking at but the lines. Hundreds, thousands, maybe millions of people standing in lines leading to the castle.

Patrolling these lines were the dead. I mean rotting, withered, disgusting corpses. Mummy-looking dead. Their dark grey, emaciated skin had shrunk onto their bones. They were all nude, but where their genitals should have been there was nothing. Well, there was something, a hole. I don't mean a nice female hole but a ragged gap like their genitalia had been ripped off.

I looked around and there beside me with his mouth agape was The Guy in a Suit, but now the rope marks were gone. Surprisingly he wasn't staring at the castle but directly at me.

"You're fixed," he said.

"Fixed?" I reached up, feeling my head, and, sure enough, all the damage was gone. I was whole again.

It was then that one of the corpses walked up and said, "Get in line," and whacked me with the stick it was carrying.

"What's the line for?" I asked.

"Oh, now you get judged." That's all it said before it walked off.

I can see Hell is going to be an endless list of things that piss me off. My first official act in Hell is to stand in line like I'm at Disney. When I think of it like that, I really guess it makes sense. I thought about being at Disney for all eternity. Hell didn't seem so bad all of a sudden.

Entry 7

So the progression into Hell works in two ways. First, you slowly move forward in this fucking line -- and I mean slowly -- working your way toward your judgment. Then secondly, it's during this time, in this line, that it seems the shock starts to wear off and the horror sets in. People lose all hope and just drop to their knees and start crying.

I cried for a long time yesterday. I just sat there and let all the emotions I'd been trying to block out flood over me. The only thing that interrupted my pity party was some dried up piece of shit poking me with a stick, telling me to move up. So I would take two steps then drop to the ground and start weeping again.

I've been in this line for a week I'm guessing, and I'm no closer than I was. The castle is still so far off, I can't even see where we're actually going, and I'm hungry. The Guy in a Suit said he was too. Fortunately that was taken care of sometime later when a plethora of Demons (is a group of Demons a plethora, hmmm... let's go with gaggle) a gaggle of Demons came walking onto the plane, pulling huge baskets and throwing chunks of meat out into the crowds. As soon as I saw it, I poked The Guy in a Suit and we agreed we would tackle anyone who got in the way. Well, that wasn't necessary; we almost got hit by a huge chunk of something. We didn't look at it, we didn't discuss it, we ate it.

I have managed to get a small bit of information out of the zombie things near me. I found out when they're consigned to this level they were still fleshy and normal. Right after they're brought here in cages, the Demons line them up and then, moving from one to the next, they reach down, using only their clawed hands, and rip the person's genitals out. They offer this removed flesh to their former owner, saying it will be the last food they will be getting. They are then instructed that their job is to keep the newly arrived in lines and moving. Over time they just dry up, walking endlessly up and down these lines, keeping the pre-judged moving, until they just fall away to dust.

I asked what happens then and it said, "We are healed back to our original form, the way we were when we arrived, and they repeat the process. The whole process, even having our genitals ripped out, since they grow back as well." So over and over, they arrive, are disfigured, fed their own parts and then dry up and fall away, just to have it repeated for all eternity.

He said it all hurts. They have all the sense and feelings of a living person and feel it when their sex organs are ripped out, but over time that horror is dulled by the pain of wasting away, feeling their bodies starve and dry up, turning to dust.

So here I stand, waiting to be judged, amidst my first taste of real Hell.

Entry 8

Yeah, I'm clearly in Hell now; and yes, I know I keep saying that. But let's face it, you don't end up in Hell and then one day stop being amazed that you actually ended up in the place your mother always warned you about.

Today, boys and girls, is our new lesson in Hell: KEEP YOUR HEAD DOWN.

I said in an earlier entry that I learned quickly there are many different species from many different creations all throughout space and time. Today I met a small little creature about 3 feet tall, maybe weighing 50 lbs. Basically it looked like a giant rat crossed with an Ewok (you know from Star Wars \-- can I use the name Ewok? Oh, fuck it. I'm in Hell. Let George Lucas try to sue my ass). All I can really tell you, other than they make a horrible clicking noise when they talk, is... um... well... they taste good.

The mummy-looking guys who guard the line hauled out a whole cage full of these creatures today and started chunking them into the crowd. At first I wasn't sure what they were doing. It became clear almost immediately when those toward the front of the line started ripping them apart and eating them. Guy in a Suit and I looked at each other. He said, "Maybe it's a treat," and laughed.

When one of the little shits flew overhead, we elbowed the guys in front and behind us, and grabbed it before anyone else could get it. No surprise here; they taste a lot like chicken.

What was more disturbing is the guy behind us only really wanted the head so he could wear it while it continued to scream as everyone chewed on its flesh. Once it had been consumed and the noise had stopped, he got tired of it. He popped out the eyes, ripped out the tongue and finished those off before discarding the skull to whatever fate that poor creature had coming next.

So I've been in this line for what I can only guess would be a month now. The good news is I'm about halfway to the castle and am starting to be able to see what's up there. There appears to be doors leading in, but before you get to the doors you pass a series of really big demons sitting on thrones. Yeah, I know. I thought it was a bit too stereotypical also, but there they are, big Demons on thrones. Guess they had to get the idea somewhere.

What I'm also learning standing here in this line is that a lot of the brutality you see from those here with you, those who are also freshly delivered into the jaws of Hell, is from shock. We do horrible things to others and sometimes to ourselves to compensate for the horror of realizing where we are. I can't tell you how many times I've seen a creature rip another creature apart and devour it just to be reduced to tears immediately after.

I really am starting to believe that this long build up to our eternal punishment might be a last bit of kindness from our Creator. A way to help tear down our "humanity" while preparing us for what is to come. We have all had moments when we just sat, sometimes for hours, staring into space, losing our place in line, trying to review what has brought us to this moment. Maybe the Demons on the thrones won't judge us like many think. Maybe they'll just tell us where to go, having left the judging for us to have done to ourselves over these long days in this line while we wait for whatever is next.

Entry 9

So today's entry is going to be short. A lot is going on, and I'll fill you in soon but wanted to let you know about this bug thing that extracts these entries from my head. They have a couple of side-effects I didn't anticipate.

First, the wound is now not closing anymore since my head was returned to its original condition after coming into Hell proper. So I have this hole that has started weeping that greenish fluid again on the back-left side of my head. My hair is caked to my skull. It's pretty gross.

Secondly, and I guess this one is a plus, but I'm starting to notice that when it extracts an entry I get sort of a buzz, like doing a really good drug. I plan on testing this out and seeing if it's true, so you might see a lot of posts but I can't ensure they'll all make sense.

Entry 10

Two huge Demons came and pulled me out of line a couple of days ago. That's why I've been slow to post. They were sent by a more powerful Demon that saw the "entry bug" the last time it was here. So he ordered for me to be pulled from line and brought into the Castle, past everyone else.

At first I was excited to finally get out of this line. But as I walked away, I realized I would be leaving Guy in a Suit. We'd been together since the day I arrived in Hell, and when you're stuck in a place like this it's very scary to be alone. Having someone you feel comfortable with, someone to commit the daily horrors with as well as talk to, really starts to mean a lot. I had never considered that part of being in Hell and dead was separation. No matter how many people are around you, you are always alone here. It's every man for himself. So when they tried to take me away from Guy, I threw a fit.

We were halfway up the line when I came to a halt and told the Demons if I was going to be taken ahead my friend had to come with me. They both looked at me like I was insane. When they pressed me on it, I said, "What you going to do, send me to Hell?"

Well, it worked. I was told to wait while the one left to ask what to do and the other stayed to hold me by the hair. Clearly he thought that was being mean to me. He must not have seen what I looked like when I arrived. I was just glad to have hair for him to hold onto.

When the other Demon returned, he surprised us both by saying that my friend had been approved. As I stood in shock, he said we were to be taken to one of the higher Demons and all would be made clear. That didn't sound promising.

So we went back and got the Guy in a Suit, and he came along. We talked on the way, neither of us sure if this was a good thing. Finally we both agreed that sharing in someone else's Hell was far better than facing yours alone.

By the way, I also found out his name is Marcus. So together we were marched past all the souls standing in line and into one of the lesser used doors of the Castle.

Sorta cool. I'm now a VIP in Hell. How about that.

Entry 11

You met Marcus in the last entry, and upon telling you his name, I realized I've never told you mine. I'm Keith in case you're interested.

Anyway we, Marcus and I, were being led into the Castle the last time I wrote, neither of us sure what was going to happen. We were taken in front of a Demon named Agares, a really spooky looking creature. He was old and in tattered clothing. He had these horrible teeth — they all ended in little razor points — but overall he looked like a hermit. He sat on a huge throne and beside him slept this massive crocodile. We kept our distance.

Our two "escorts" stood guard behind us while Agares had two chairs brought and placed in front of his throne, inviting us to sit. So we did. He offered us wine. Hell yeah. It tasted funny, but on the upside it gave us a buzz almost instantly so we drank it and asked for more.

"Relax, you can have more later. Right now I have to tell you why you are here," said Agares.

"Please, I just don't understand why I'm here. I didn't think I lived a life that would sentence me to Hell," I replied.

"Oh, I am not here to judge you. As for what you did to get here, does it really matter now? You are here. What I need to understand is why you have that bug following you around. I did some checking, and the Higher Powers have decided that you are to update the living world's impressions of Hell. The last real version was done by that fool Dante, and, well, his version is hard to read and outdated. A lot has changed since his time."

"But I really want to know why I'm here!"

"To be honest, I do not know. All I have been told is to get you underway. You will run into plenty of Demons who should be able to help you with why you are here. After all, it is their job to size up your sins so they can punish you properly."

"So I'm going to skip my punishments?"

"Oh, I would not say that. Just being in and traveling through Hell will be punishment enough. You have been allowed to keep more of your humanity than is normal, and in doing so you will feel more emotionally. Though you are being forced to do this, it in no way affords you any protection other than passage. There is no guarantee you will not run into Demons that just feel like they need to make you suffer. That is, of course, what they are here for."

"What if they tie me up in some torture device for the next million years? I won't be able to carry out my task."

"Oh, do not worry. I am to give you a necklace of passage. Mind you, I did not say safe passage. You will be able to use it in times of great crisis. BUT, you are here to experience Hell so all the necklace will do is limit how long you are held in one place, not what is done to you during that time."

"And my friend?"

"He has been allowed to accompany you and will also be required to offer his insights for your journal as well. We will give him the same protections we have afforded you, and I can promise that you two will not be separated unwillingly. You must also keep in mind that you are here to perform. If you do not turn out work or create work of low quality then you both will be punished. We do not care what impression you give the outside world of Hell, but you are expected to do your job. So talk to creatures, describe your surroundings and let those who read this experience what you have seen and been through. Are we clear?"

"Yes, but I'm curious. Will this ultimately end?"

"There is no end. You are here for eternity. Try to remember the honor how it is keeping you from the fires of the furnaces. It is up to you what you make of it."

"Will I meet The Devil?"

He laughed a loud and dangerous laugh. "If you do, I would first suggest you not call him 'The Devil'. That will earn you a special form of Hell. He is The Dark Lord, Lord Lucifer or My Lord if you are talking directly to him. But I do not think you will see much of him. He does not travel the levels of Hell, and a lot has been going on with him and his Great Grandson recently so he has been very busy."

"Great Grandson?"

"That is most certainly a story for another time," Agares said. He then nodded and a small, creepy-looking Demon scurried up carrying two amulets in his hand. He offered one to each of us. Around the edge were words in a language I couldn't read. "Now place those around your neck, and whatever you do, do not lose them."

And just like that, the meeting was over. He waved his hand, and we were escorted through the Castle and out the back. I soon discovered that was where all the other souls exited on their way to their individual Hells. Great lines of creatures were being led off to meet their punishments. There we stood on the back steps, looking out over the first level of Hell.

This, my friends, started my journey through the landscapes of the damned.

Entry 12

I've been delayed since the last journal entry. We met our guide, a Demon called Calmet. He filled us in on what exactly we're supposed to be doing in Hell. We also learned about the Castle of Judgment, the place we were at in my last post. More to come on that.

I'm told the next post is due and will be available for the worlds (yes, plural) to see in 5 days from when this post is made public. I can't give you exact dates since I have no idea when, where or who you are in creation or time, so I just have to give you times based upon how I understand them. Even a day is really not a good unit of measure I guess, since you might live someplace other than where I did and thus a 24 hour day has no real meaning to you. Oh well, I'm supposed to be writing about Hell, not the problems of publishing in different creations and worlds. Let someone else sort that shit out.

Check back in 5 Earth days, and the new entries will start flowing, ready for you to read. Oh, and if you're an aggressive species that can travel in space and didn't know there's a place called Earth, um... well... never mind.

Entry 13

Ok, I'm back, and boy has it been crazy. Sorry for the break. A lot of things have changed. You have to give Hell credit for one thing: they don't mess around. To recap, they -- I'm not sure who I mean when I say "they", by the way -- decided I needed a guide (as in Demon not a handbook). When he arrived, he better explained what it is I'm expected to accomplish, well mostly.

First, I feel that since I'm going to have to make some corrections on earlier posts we should set up some rules, so to speak. This is a journal, not a book. I'm not able to review, edit or correct my previous posts. At times it may become necessary for me to revise things in later posts that I was incorrect about the first time. I have no idea what I'm about to see or experience, so if I have to correct things as I learn more about Hell, I'll do so. This is fucking Hell after all. What do I know about Hell other than what I ignored while being forced to attend weekly classes at my local Baptist church? I can already tell you one thing for sure about that "training" – BOY, DID THEY GET IT WRONG!

I have no idea who you are. To be honest, I'm not even sure if anyone is actually seeing this journal. I'm told they/you are, but I have no idea how you're getting it or in what format. I just compose it in my head, and the big buggy thing sucks it out. After that I haven't a clue what happens to my words. I mainly say all of this in case you're one of those uptight editor or publisher types. You know, one of the dicks who turned down my writing while I was alive. WELL, FUCK YOU! I got a job with one of the big guys, so don't send emails telling me what I'm doing wrong. I won't get them, and even if I did I wouldn't read them or care. You can fill me in when you get here because I'm pretty sure this is where you will be going. Sorry if I sound bitter, but I'm now a journalist in Damnation, not a gig one strives for.

A couple of entries ago I said we, Marcus and myself, were led out the back of the Castle and into the first level of Hell. I found out this wasn't true. It's not the first level we're on but the Judgment level. Yes, Hell has an admitting level. I found this out from our guide.

Oh yeah, our guide. He's a minor Demon named Calmet. I say minor because he's not a real Demon. At least I don't think he is. Even I'm smart enough to not ask questions like that, well not right now anyway.

He's a bit smaller than us at about 5 feet, maybe a little shorter. He has sorta a muddy colored flesh. You know, that color of a dead person after you dig them up years later, sorta a greenish grey color. On him it's not sickly or anything, just off-putting. He has cloven hooves covered in this dark golden hair, which matches all the other hair on his body. The hooves are really cool. He let us look at them, and I couldn't help but notice that like the other Demons with hooves, he walks with a kind of bounce, very fluid and really graceful. He has these cute little wings on his back. He said he couldn't fly, they're pretty but useless. And me calling them "cute" didn't go over too well either, in case you were wondering. Not sure why, but I couldn't help thinking he's lying about the flying thing. His face is very handsome other than the fangs which drop down to his chin from each side of his mouth, pulling his bottom lip back a bit. He smiles a lot. It's disturbing.

Here's the first conversation we had with him:

"I have been assigned to accompany you through your travels and act as your guide as well as answer any questions you might have," said Calmet.

"I'm still not sure what we're doing, to be honest," I said.

"As it was explained to me, you are going to visit each of the levels of Hell and tell the worlds about what you see and experience. The last guy's version was good, but language and society have evolved so much since it was written. So consider this a rewrite."

"Worlds?"

"Oh yeah, there are many. I know you are from the one called Earth. From what I have seen, your place has grown quickly and stands no chance of surviving very long. I have known many places like yours, and they always destroy themselves in some way. You are an arrogant and stupid group of creatures. Nonetheless, I am not here to judge, just to lead and answer your questions."

So there it is, but since I'm at the limit of how long they want these entries, you get the rest next time. We should be posting more regular now since we're finally getting underway.

I know I sounded pissed about being sentenced to Hell to tell Dante's story over again with a more modern twist, but in many ways I'm actually excited. I like knowing I won't suffer the pains of Hell I was destined to in the first place. I also like that I'm now on their payroll and will try, over time, to accurately report to you what I see and learn in hopes it will help some of you fools to not repeat my mistakes.

Entry 14

I must start this entry by saying it's longer than most. I feel it's necessary; it's my first real experience in my new role. Sadly, I think I'm starting to understand, though I fear not well, what lies before me.

We awoke that morning beside the small campfire we'd made under a grove of trees a short distance from the Castle of Judgment. I sat up and watched the endless stream of souls as they descended the steps having just been told their fate. We discussed what we should do first, and I asked if we could actually see a soul being judged. Calmet saw no problem with us doing that, so we made our way back into the Castle and through the corridors where Demons and Hellspawn rushed about doing their various jobs.

When we made it back to the front of the Castle, there in Hell's dull grey light stood the endless lines of souls waiting their fate. The difference was this time we weren't looking up from the masses but down onto them. We were standing beside one of the massive thrones where the Judges of Hell made their rulings as to a person's life and sentenced them to their level of damnation.

The Judges that sat upon the three thrones were everything you expected a Demon to be. They were massive. We stood beside the Demon on the center throne and even seated he towered over us, but standing he had to of been every bit of 30 feet tall. His huge wings were folded against his back with a good quarter of them rising over him. They swooped forward, framing his massive head. Each wing ended in a vicious barb that continually dripped the suffering of his rulings. Horns rose from his forehead and curled back under the wings. To make the horns even more amazing, each Judge had different color flames dancing up and down their length.

The center Judge was dressed simply in what appeared to be a loincloth made of skins with the heads of many different races strung together side by side to act as a belt. His skin was deep red, the color of blood, and his knees blended into the black hair that covered his cloven hooves, each of which was caked with the remains of his former victims. His feet rested on piles of skulls.

In each of the three Judges' hands, they held a long scepter of office, the color of the globe matching the flames that danced across their horns. Calmet leaned over to let me know that the Demon in the center throne was by far the fiercest and judged the worst cases. He had the added distinction of having flames play across his torso, causing his flesh to blister and boil. Calmet said that even after all these years the Demon still felt the pain. They had been a gift from The Dark Lord's Great-Grandson, Xia.

"Watch," said Calmet as the next damned person was pushed brutally forward.

"Please, My Lord, be merciful," said the damned man.

In a surprisingly soft voice, the Demon looked down and responded, "You are here to be judged. Do you know what has brought you to this place?"

"I think so," responded the soul, bowing his head and starting to weep. "Please forgive me."

"Oh, but my beloved, you have earned your reward. I see you were a pedophile. During your life you abused and controlled many a young child and made them do the most horrible sexual acts to fulfill your desires. When they grew too old and were no longer to your liking, you would often kill, dismember and dispose of their corpses. To make matters worse, you sent pictures of the destroyed innocent to their families. These horrors have earned you the most wonderful rewards The Dark Lord's realm has to offer. I sentence you to all the levels of Hell. You shall start at the second and fall slowly through them all until finally one day you will reach the Great Plains. There you will live the rest of eternity as a slave to the residents of our capitol city. Your soul will be milked of all the suffering we can wring from it. I can see in you so very much. You are bloated with your victims' pain. I promise you as much and a thousand fold."

He motioned for the damned man to be raised so the Demon could reach him, then bending forward he reached out with his great clawed hand, which was twice the size of the man's head, and burned the mark of a pentagram onto the man's forehead. "This will ensure you are never dispatched or your suffering eased. I mark you with The Master's sign so all in Hell will know you are one of us and destined to always enjoy the fruits of your sins." The Judge then waved his hand, and the man still screaming for mercy was dragged away to start his sentence.

I was numb with horror from what I'd just heard. I had at first pitied the poor soul that was about to be judged. Now after having heard his sins, I could only hope at some point I got to see his tortures being carried out; he truly did deserve what was coming.

Marcus had placed his hand on the side of the great throne trying to steady himself but failed. His knees gave out as he slid down to the ground, curled into a ball and started crying.

The Demon looked over the side of his throne and asked, "Calmet, who is this creature?"

"He has been chosen to spread the message of Hell to the living. He wanted to see what happened here before we begin our journey."

"He is going to be taken to them all, the levels that is. To view and document all the torments of our beloved guests?"

"Yes, My Lord. I have been given the honor of being his guide."

"A fine choice that was."

He then motioned for his two attendants who had just returned to raise me up so he could see me. They gently helped me to my feet where I had knelt to care for Marcus and brought me around to the front of the throne. It was then I saw that the Demon wasn't sitting upon his throne but actually part of it; he could never rise or leave his post. He was here eternally, condemning the damned to their fates.

He leaned forward so his face was level with mine, and a gentle smile crossed his lips. "You have noticed I have my punishments as well. I was once a holy man who used his influence to convince my flock to do horrible things in the name of The Father. So now I am here for all eternity listening to the horrors of those brought before me. My soul still feels the light of The Host so I never forget what I lost and the pain I caused while I lived. I now condemn millions to their own pain knowing that maybe if I had been a good man I could have saved one of these poor souls from this fate. I pity you my child, what must you have done to deserve the curse of seeing all the pains and sufferings of this horrible place. I send with you the last bit of good I have hidden away in my soul, hoping in your darkest hour it will bring you some peace. But this I fear is too small a shield for what you will endure."

He then touched my head and marked me with the sign of the cross. As he did so the chair grew larger and its very stone clamped even tighter around his hooves, securing him more firmly to his eternal punishment. He sat up and motioned for me to be let down where I had collapsed.

Calmet rushed up, putting his arms around my waist and helped me away. I found Marcus now sitting on the ground with his back against the Castle wall, crying uncontrollably. "What have we gotten ourselves into?" he asked.

I sat down beside him and together we wept. Calmet stood by patiently until finally all the tears we thought we had were gone. He then again led us through the Castle and out the back where we returned to the campsite we had used the night before. He then sat quietly watching us with a look of sadness as we again curled up and wept until finally the mercy of sleep over took us.

Entry 15

The next morning I awoke to find Marcus sitting by the fire and Calmet missing.

"Have you seen our guide? Did all the crying run the little Demon off?" I said in a burst of laughter.

Marcus returned the laugh. "He said he needed to find some things out and would be back. He suggested we stay here."

"After yesterday's encounter, I'm not sure if staying here for eternity isn't a preferable option."

"I'm surprised it bothered me so much. That guy got what he deserved."

"I agree. I think it's just the realization of where we are still setting in. We've been here a long time already, and yet still every day when I wake up it's a shock. I do have a question for you though."

"Sure, how can I help you?" asked Marcus.

"Why did you agree to come with me?"

"I would like to say there are a couple of reasons, but really it just seemed like the better option at the time. When I was living, I didn't believe in this whole afterlife thing. Knowing what I know now, I'm very glad I came with you because otherwise I'd be pretty much screwed. I was a suicide, and who knows what my judgment would have been?"

"Even after yesterday?"

"What we saw yesterday was bad, but like I said he had it coming. I'd like to believe the things we'll see and have to deal with emotionally won't be as bad as what we'd have suffered had we been judged and sent to our eternal punishment," added Marcus.

"That's a good point, and one we might need to remind each other of from time to time," I said.

Marcus nodded as he pulled two sticks out of the fire. He had been roasting some meat and handed one to me. In the short time I've been in Hell, I've learned it's best to just eat what you're offered and to accept somewhere someone was suffering for it.

"I think maybe we need to decide, right now, that we're in this together and agree to watch each other's backs as well as be a shoulder to cry on," I said.

The rest of the morning was spent talking. We both came up with questions about the things we had either seen or heard that we didn't understand, all the while watching the endless stream of freshly judged souls pour down the steps of the Castle on their way to their fate.

The looks on their faces started to take on similar flavors. There were those who were just stunned while others you could clearly tell couldn't believe what they were destined for and were normally crying. Then lastly there were those who were resigned to their fates and taking it all in stride. The largest portion of souls were herded off to the far left and into a cave some distance away in the mountains. We decided asking for details about that cave was going to be our first question for Calmet when he returned.

Entry 16

By the time Calmet made it back to camp we had not only come up with lists of questions but had collated, cross-referenced and compared the lists. Since we didn't have anything to write them down on, we just had to remember them, so we split between us the most important ones to remember.

We were prepared to launch into our questions when we both noticed the worried look on his face. "What's with the look?" I asked.

"After seeing you two yesterday, I was trying to find out what to do with you guys. You have not seen anything yet, and if a simple judgment is going to cause you two to have a meltdown, what is going to happen when we get to the good stuff?" he said.

"We talked about that. I've come up with a couple of ideas, but first Marcus and I have a question about the lines. We've been watching them most of the morning and sorta understand where the smaller line of souls are going, but where do the bigger group of people go?"

"You mean the ones entering the cave?"

We nodded.

"Those are the souls who made no impact in life, the ones who were neither good nor bad. With all the overcrowding, it was decided that unless a soul made some kind of impact in their given area of depravity, they would go directly to the furnaces."

Marcus and I just looked at each other. After all, what would we say? I decided to change the subject. "I had a thought about the issue of our reaction yesterday, and I think I have a solution. We don't have a time limit or schedule, do we?"

"Schedule of what? Touring Hell? No, that is going to take many, many years. Why do you ask?"

"I was thinking maybe we need to work into this gradually, and by that I mean spending time and grow used to each part of this process. They want me to produce a quality work, and to do so I can't be this emotional. We might need to spend more time in some places than others. That's why I was thinking that if the Demon we met yesterday doesn't mind, maybe we can hang out at the Castle for a few days and see more of the souls being judged," I said.

"Do you call them days? How is time managed in Hell?" interrupted Marcus.

Calmet laughed. "Eventually you will see the slight differences between the nights and days in Hell. They did it for the very purpose of having a structured time system. The living like to believe they created the concept of time, but if you know anything about the way creation works you know that in each planetary system there are certain areas that are more habitable due to their proximity to their primary star. This was determined during the first creations when the type of life they wanted to create was decided.

"Basically all planets with life are at roughly the same relative distance from their solar star. Thus, rotations on most worlds, excluding a few extreme ones, are close to the same unit of time. I mean, it does change a bit but not enough for you to worry about. So yes, you can say days, weeks, years and so forth. The only difference is we in Hell see everything over a single day as just another unit of time measurement, not like the living who have astronomical events associated with them."

"Wow, that actually makes sense."

"Remember, we created this system. Of course it makes sense. Those in charge at the time, including our wonderful Dark Lord, decided it was silly to keep recreating something when they'd found a process that worked. Why do you think most creatures' genitals are in the same place, for example? Trust me. Now that you are in Hell and have a wider variety of things to fuck you, you will be thankful it works on a basic, standardized system."

"We can have sex in Hell?" asked Marcus, sounding a little more excited than I was sure he intended.

"Hell yes, pardon the pun. If it has a hole, you can stick it in it. There is a whole level of creatures that exist solely to have sex with anything that moves. To some that is a level of pleasure while others it is strictly pain, if you catch my drift. I have a feeling, based upon that smile, you will love it."

Calmet shifted his position. "This seems like a good segue into the discussion about your schedule. As I understand it you control that, I do not. So you can choose to stay or move on as you see fit. They want you to document Hell the best you can, and that requires time. Something you have an unlimited supply of now. So yes, we can spend some more time with Kitar if you want."

"Kitar?"

"That is the Demon you met yesterday. He will not mind at all. I went back to talk to him and, to be honest; I think he has a soft spot for you. So is that the plan?"

"Yes, but one last question first. Creations, as in plural?"

"Yes, there are ten as I understand it. I am not sure. That is a little over my pay grade, to use your vernacular."

"That helps explain the other creatures we saw that don't look like humans."

"Trust me, in your own creation there are millions of different sentient races. I know that humans, as you call yourselves, like most other species tend to want to believe they are all there is. I guess it makes them feel special, but that ends once they get real space travel. It is one of the short-comings of the naive. We can talk about that later. Right now, let us get back to the front. I would like to keep the two of you on some kind of routine as far as time goes, so the day is running short."

We made it back to find Kitar deep in judgment of a serial killer who had three eyes. The Demon appeared to be having a great time. The guy was begging for his life and trying everything he could to justify killing over 200 people. Kitar was letting him babble on, laughing and throwing little comments out occasionally. As we took our places beside his throne, he paused, noticing us, and bowed his head slightly.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with assorted tales and punishments of some of the worst beings in creation. By the end of the day, Marcus was again curled up though not crying this time, with his back against the Castle wall so he couldn't hear the tales being told. I, on the other hand, stayed to hear them all.

When we made it back to camp, Calmet had yet another surprise for us. He had acquired some of the booze he had mentioned that had been made from the distilled suffering of souls for us to try. He said it was a weaker, watered down version but it still did its job.

By the time the bottles were empty, all three of us were pleasantly blasted and slept peacefully through the night. Our first real, restful sleep since we arrived in this horrible place.

Entry 17

The next five days were filled with the dregs of creation. We went every morning to watch Kitar judge the damned only to return to camp each night where we would sit around the fire drinking and talking about the different souls we had seen. More importantly, we were becoming a working team. Marcus was now able to stay by the throne the entire day, and we were both starting to toughen up and deal with the things we were hearing.

Then, on the sixth day, things changed. I guess we should have expected it. Hell has a way of slapping you down before you can become accustomed to your surroundings. We arrived right as Kitar finished judging a particularly nasty creature for some sin I had never heard of, and we asked to speak to him.

"Marcus and I talked, and we've decided the best way for us to truly understand the nature of Hell is to be judged."

"WHAT!" yelled Calmet in surprise.

Kitar was calm and thoughtful, then said, "You have watched me judge now for several days. I am not sure this is a wise course of action. If I judge you, I will not hold back. I will treat you just like anyone else who stands before me. I WILL truly judge you." He paused, then added, "Please reconsider this decision."

"For our own sake, we need to understand why we're here. If things hadn't happened like they did and we hadn't been recruited to do this journal, what would be our natural course in Hell?"

"I was a suicide so I've always assumed that's what got me sentenced to Hell. I don't fear my judgment," replied Marcus, only to get a sad smile from Kitar.

"That might have been your vehicle to Hell, but it may have little if anything to do with your final judgment."

"I don't understand," I said.

"There are actions, reactions and repercussions from a person's sins. He might have committed suicide, but that might not be the only thing that goes into where he would end up in Hell."

"Really?"

"Yes. How your actions affect others is also taken into consideration. Are you sure you are ready for what you might learn? I mean really sure. I will judge you if that is truly what you wish."

"I think it is, but we must also be sure that if this happens we won't be sent to our punishment. We do have a journal to write after all," I said.

"You will be judged and sentenced but not sent."

"Really, Kitar, we think it is best. I, for one, have no idea why I ended up here. It's something I must know. Don't you think it would make sense, if nothing else, to find out where we were destined to end up? Think about it from a writer's perspective. When we reach that level of Hell, we'll be seeing what could have been happening to us. There will be a level of understanding we couldn't get any other way. Isn't that the goal after all? What would our fates had been if the Powers had not stepped in and changed the outcome?"

"What do you think of this fool idea, Calmet?" asked Kitar.

"I think they are insane but I am not here to be their caretaker, only to guide them. This is their crazy idea, but if it is what they want, then so be it. Then judge them and let the chips fall where they may," he replied.

"I agree with Keith. It would be best if we knew, and I fully understand that it'll have its downsides," said Marcus with a look of horror/fear and mixed levels of dread playing across his face.

"You have no idea, little ones." Turning to Calmet again he added, "Have you talked to Him about this? It might render them useless."

"I have received my instructions. After their first encounter watching the judged, I went and asked that very question. If they become unable to fulfill their task then we will replace them. That was the ruling. I am not to override their choices as long as they stay on mission."

Kitar nodded and turned back to us. "I ask one last time, be sure this is what you want."

"I certainly want to be judged. It has been a lingering question since I woke up in this place. I thought I lived a good life. What did I do?" I said.

"I must know as well, as long as you can assure us that we won't be punished," added Marcus.

"No, nothing can change your course. You are here to do a job, no differently than myself or Calmet. As for being punished, knowledge is often its own punishment. So yes, I will do this, but it will need to occur before you leave this area. Once you enter The Planes of Torment, I will no longer acquiesce."

"Just you? Could we not go to any of the three Judges?"

"No. They have heard your request and refuse to be involved. They feel it would be placing them in a delicate situation, having to judge a soul but not send it for eternal punishment. They see it as a corruption of their duties."

"How did you learn that so quickly?"

"We consult constantly. We are not of one mind per se, but we hear and communicate with each other about the different souls which stand before us. Often there is great debate as to a punishment or its severity. We only take seconds to converse, but that does not diminish the weight of our responsibility or our decisions. We take our jobs very seriously. The Judge the soul stands before has the final word, but we do seek council from the others."

"So you don't agree with them about it being a corruption of your duties?" I asked.

"No. I see it as part of your education. This is a rare event and must be treated as such. What you are doing is important. We all need to do what we can to help you truly experience Hell while ensuring your survival both physically and mentally so the final product is truly representative."

"Thank you for that." Looking to Marcus for his final decision, I then turned back and with finality said, "We are certain. We wish to be judged."

"So be it. I will give you tonight. Tomorrow when you return, you will stand before me and know your sins," announced Kitar formally. He then turned to find Calmet's eyes, and they exchanged a look which clearly read "sway them".

Entry 18

We awoke with the understanding that today was going to be a very hard day. Calmet had struggled most of the night to convince us to change our minds, but we refused. In many ways, I think this was as much about us taking control of ourselves again as it was in learning what had brought us to this point.

There was little talking around the fire that morning, and we all walked silently to the front of the castle. Even Calmet understood the gravity and wasn't his normal self. When we reached the throne, Kitar looked down at us, and the smile he gave was a mix between a welcome and an apology.

"So you know what our sins were?" I asked.

"Not until you stand before me," he answered.

"Seriously, you don't just know?"

"Not until you stand to be judged. The moment you stand before my throne, your life becomes clear to me. Your accomplishments and failures, all that was you while you lived I see and understand. Not in the way others would see it. I see your intentions as well as the ramifications of your decisions on you and others. So who will be first?"

We looked at each other and then Marcus blurted out, "I'll go first. I know why I'm here. Mine should be easy. What do I do?"

With a sad smile Kitar said, "Step forth and be judged. Before you do, be sure. Be very sure this is what you want."

When Marcus nodded, the Demon's two attendants reached over and, placing their hands gently on his back, led him around to the front of the throne. He looked up at the creature about to be his Judge and bowed his head. He tried to put on a strong face but was betrayed by a single tear as it ran down his left cheek.

What I learned later was in that instant Kitar is flooded with visions of a soul's life. He sees in mere seconds all the achievements and sins of that soul while living. If they were a murderer, he actually feels the pain of the victim as well as the emotions of the perpetrator. It was part of the pain of his eternal damnation.

He looked at Marcus standing before him and all semblance of their knowing each other dropped away. All the pity, the concern, gone... Kitar was now his Judge.

"Why are you here, my child? Tell me why you were sent to this place. Tell me what you did to be denied The Father's love. I want to see what you know or think you know," commanded Kitar in a voice we had grown accustomed to. The one he used on every person who stood before him, the one that struck terror into their very heart and soul.

"I never believed in Hell or Heaven. I thought we were alone. That we were born and we died, and that was it. Now I know that perception alone would have been enough to sentence me to Hell, but then I committed suicide. Is that not also punishable by eternal damnation?"

"But is that why you are here?"

"I don't know, but it's what I believe to be the reason."

"You were sent here because of your actions in taking your own life, yes. But that is such a small part of your sins. Your true sin was in being self-absorbed. See, both of you have wrongly thought Hell was only about physical punishment. I am here to inform you of the consequences of your actions as well as assign you your eternal reward. Not the consequences on you but on those that were close to you. In knowing that, you will learn that your actions were, in fact, selfish."

Marcus went rigid. "No, I don't want to know about the life I left. Please don't make me do this. I was wrong. This wasn't a good idea."

"I am sorry, my child. You have stepped before me and now must be judged. But first I want you to tell me why you felt the need to take your own life."

Crying, Marcus answered, "I ruined my company. I destroyed my family. I denied all that should have been important to me. When things got difficult, I didn't listen to those I trusted and against their advice did what served my ego. Over the years I slowly, through my own arrogance, ran my company into the ground. It could have been saved so many times, but I was too inflexible to admit I was wrong. Then the day came and all was lost. The only way I felt I could show my remorse was to remove myself from the equation. It was my way of saying I was sorry to those who had supported and trusted me all those years."

"So you asked forgiveness of the ones you loved and respected by taking your own life? You chose to atone for one mistake by making a worse one? Is that what you are telling me?"

"What else was I to do? They're better off now. They can go on and live their lives without having my failure hanging over their heads," coughed Marcus, barely able to get the words out.

"Is that what you think? Here is your truth. Your wife had seen your mistakes, the flaws in your judgment and personality. She loved you anyway. Even though you would not listen to her, often calling her a 'dumb blonde', she continued to stand by your side, doing what she could to prepare for the future. Those 'shopping sprees' you used to chastise her about... she almost never went shopping, and when she did she would lie about how much she spent. She was putting money back for the inevitable day when you would fall to your own arrogance.

"Your death has destroyed her. She is now only a shell of the person she was. She lost the house, lost the cars, lost everything. She is now even lost to herself, lost in a bottle or to drugs, anything to hide her from the pain.

"Your wife's greatest solace and pride were your children. Now your daughter sleeps in alleys with strangers. She lends her body out to anyone and everyone who wants it. She no longer cares. All she cares about is what she pumps into her veins. Yes, she pumps into her body the same drugs she shares with what remains of your wife. She struggles so hard to find a replacement for the thing that gave her life the most joy which was her father, the man she so looked up to and respected. They are both lost to life, and I fear will soon be here with you amongst the shattered souls on these Plains of Judgement."

Marcus, now collapsed on the floor before the throne weeping, looked up. "Please tell me my son, my precious son, has done better, please."

"I actually was hoping you would not ask since he already stands in these lines waiting his turn. Yes, the line behind you. Somewhere in all that pain is your child. It was only days after your passing that he too joined you here, following in your footsteps, taking his own life like you did yours, only he will not be spared. He will be judged and sentenced."

Marcus cried harder, something I thought wasn't possible at this point.

Kitar continued, "So, Marcus Marriweather, your sin is not taking your own life. Your sin is arrogance and believing your selfish act saved those around you when you knew all along that you had no interest in how it would affect them. All you wanted was to run away from your own disappointment in yourself and the harm you thought you did, but had never truly caused. I sentence you to that knowledge. I sentence you to spend eternity in Hell, knowing that all you had you squandered, all those you loved you destroyed. I cannot send you to your eternal punishment for these sins, but know when the time comes and you step upon the plane of the Seventh Level of Hell, it is where you belong. Be gone for you have now been judged."

Kitar waved his hand dismissively, and the attendants brought Marcus back to the side of the throne. Or what was left of him, for he was a crushed man. All that he thought, or more importantly had led himself to believe, had been stripped away. He was left with only the truth and its repercussions.

I looked at Kitar with such anger. "Why did you need to destroy him so thoroughly? WHY?" I yelled.

Kitar looked at me with such kindness in his face. "Because I am a Demon of Hell and a Judge in The Dark Lord's service, that is why. I warned you. I begged you both to not do this but you insisted, again displaying the arrogance of the living, so I had no choice for I will not neglect my duties. You ASKED to be judged," he yelled, returning my anger, then his voice softened again. "But you, my little one, can still back out. Please, I beg you, reconsider."

"No, he's my friend and he's suffered this. I won't betray him now. It doesn't matter what I've seen. This is what we agreed on and what we will do TOGETHER," I barked.

"Please don't. I release you from your word. Don't bring this upon yourself," said Marcus, reaching up to me from his collapsed spot on the ground. "Please don't let him do this to you."

"No, I will not change my mind." I was angry now.

"Well, take tonight. I will NOT judge you today. If you return tomorrow and still wish to learn your fate, I will comply."

Calmet and I helped Marcus back to the camp. As we walked the now familiar path through the Castle, the Demons and Hellspawn who normally ignored us stopped, parted and let us pass. Some bowed their heads in respect to our choice.

Marcus spent the night in silence, alone, curled up by a large rock, a bottle in hand. He cried until he ran out of tears, then he slept.

I went to sleep that night with my last thought being; "Now it's my turn."

Entry 19

The following morning after Marcus had been judged he was a different person. I wasn't sure if he'd ever return to who he was. For some reason I doubted it; things had changed for him. What he had done, what he had lived through, or more correctly chosen not to live through and their ramifications had all come home to roost.

After sitting for a while, Marcus got up and quietly said, "I'm going to take a walk, not far, you'll be able to see me, but I just need to sort this out in my head."

We of course understood and he strolled off, kicking the dirt up around his feet.

Calmet looked at me across the smoldering remains of the previous night's fire and said, "He will recover, I believe, but this should be a lesson to you. Are you still determined to go through with your judging?"

"Yes. I've never been so sure of anything. There's no way I would back out after what Marcus went through. I have to know why I'm here."

"Will you at least let me return to Kitar and tell him we will come tomorrow? I think you need to take today off and to let Marcus digest what he learned. Please."

"We can do that, but make it clear to Kitar that I'll be there tomorrow to face my judgment."

"Yes, sir, I shall return." He hopped up and headed toward the Castle.

I got up and went to the trees, poking around for some firewood. We'd been here so long all the easy stuff was already used up. The good thing about Hell and all this dim light was that these trees looked like shit so I reached into the branches, grabbed a couple of limbs and yanked.

I should have known what would happen, but it didn't matter. The fucking tree let out a yell. Yup, just like most of the other 'living' stuff in Hell, this is/was someone at one point. I jumped half way across the camp.

I stood there a minute trying to decide what to do then looked at the tree, said "sorry," and yanked real hard. It let out a yell, and I threw whatever it was I just ripped off of it into the fire. Gawd, I hope I didn't just rip off its dick. I didn't care if we were in Hell; that would just be rude.

Then, to make matters worse, from behind me I hear the tree say, "Asshole."

"Hey, sorry, but there's no wood anywhere around."

"Take the guy beside me next time. He is a jerk, and his roots are digging into mine."

"Deal," I said.

Marcus came strolling back a few minutes later. "Who are you talking to?"

"Oh, the trees. You know how it is."

He paused, looked at the trees, then at me and just shrugged. "When we going back up front?" he asked.

"We're staying here today. I think you need a break, and Calmet said the Demon won't mind."

"You having second thoughts? I'm telling you, man, I won't be offended if you don't put yourself through that."

"Nope. We're just getting started on this journey. Turning my back on you the first time it gets hard isn't the way I plan on starting this experience. And, to be honest, I know what you went through was horrible, but I have to know about me. You had some idea why you were here. I really don't know what got me a ticket on the damned express."

"Well, you're a better man than me. If I knew then what I know now, I'm not sure I'd go and allow it to happen."

"I understand, really I do. You had a variable you didn't plan for and that was family. I don't have that. Whatever got me here is all me. I was hit by a car so they can't say I did it on purpose."

"True I guess, but I still worry."

"Are you going to be OK?"

"It is what it is, like we said when we made this agreement. Mental pain is still better than physical pain. I thought that was true two days ago. Now I'm not sure. I'm still numb and will have to just let this wash over me for a while and see where it ends up. As for being OK, or healing, what choice do I have? I'm here and all eternity stretches in front of me with the knowledge of what I did and how it affected those I loved. Who knows what we're going to see? Maybe we really do need some good kicks in the ass before we start this journey for real."

"Sadly, I know you have a point there."

"So one other question. Um... that place in your skull looks pretty bad. Is it supposed to look like that?"

"No idea. It only hurts when Buggie sucks out the information, but then he vanishes and I'm fine. A little dizzy sometimes is all." Buggie is what I call the bug thing that pulls these entries out of my head.

Calmet returned a while later letting us know that everything had been taken care of, and we were expected the following day. He said Kitar was pretty upset about how the things had gone the day before. I could only imagine what being a Judge that still felt The Father's light must be like. We all have our crosses, I guess. No one gets a break in Hell.

The rest of the day we talked, drank and ate some meat that Calmet dug up. Gawd, I hoped that was just a turn of phrase for him. You can never be sure. It was good, sorta like Brazilian BBQ once cooked just right.

By the end of the day we were again plastered, and even Marcus smiled a time or two. Sadly, you could see him tense back up as if reminding himself he wasn't allowed to be happy. I still wasn't sure he'd ever be who he was, but then at any time in life, or for that matter our death, are we ever what we were? That's part of moving forward, I guess. Becoming the new us as we bury the old us in the graves of our memories.

Entry 20

I have to start this entry by making a confession. The reason there was a break between the last entry and this one is because I hate the journal entry about my judgment. So much so that I'm adding an entire journal entry talking about how much I hate that journal entry. When the brain bug came to take the entry, I started swatting it with rocks until they finally sent someone so I could tell them I needed to say this first. So here goes.

If I could skip my judgment entry and just say "so I was judged" I would, but I know that would drive both you and me crazy. Plus my editor said it was a bad idea. YES, I have an editor. I'm in Hell and I'm getting edited. How much can one person be asked to suffer?

So what I'm planning to do now is just to report the judgment as it happened so we can get past it. Marcus said when I mentioned I was adding a prefix, "Do you think anyone is ever happy or agrees with why they end up in Hell?" To that bit of logic I had a very intelligent and reasoned response. I told him to shut up and threw something at him.

The reason I'm raising such a stink is because this section is very preachy. After all, the entry is about why I was sent to Hell, which means it involves the intricacies of sinning not Hell itself. Hell is what we'll be dealing with from now on. Don't get me wrong. I'm sure there will be more entries like my judgement. At times I will probably have to correct misconceptions about what we were taught about the afterlife. I mean, how can you talk about The Host, Hell and eternal punishment without occasionally wandering into the realm of why some things are right while others are wrong? But I'll try to keep it to a minimum.

Like any writer who strays into an area they know their readers will hate, I'm worried about you not reading any further. I know if this was the first entry I read, I'd probably think it was one of those bible thumpers giving me their standard bullshit. So please keep in mind where this is coming from, a Judge in Hell. Someone whose job it is to judge souls based upon a set of rules created by an invisible man in the sky.

Oh AND... AND... they're breaking it into two entries because it's too long. Well, three if you count this rant as one. What the fuck? So just when I get you all pissed off, it's going to end so you can get all pissed off again in a couple of days? Gotta love them for that. Just a hint. Don't judge the next entries by their content now. You'll understand later.

Entry 21

My Judgment – Part 1

We made it back to the front of the Castle the following morning, but I have to admit I'm getting fucking tired of this place. We've spent so much time watching souls being judged and listening to their endless list of excuses. I've learned that often the mildest mannered person has the darkest secrets. So if you live on a street with a nasty-looking old man and a sweet bible-carrying granny, keep an eye on the old bitch. She's the one who probably has her husband chopped into pieces and stuffed in the freezer down in the basement. And I'm not talking about the slapdash killer that acts out of rage. She's the type who does a neat job and then rolls them in white paper and labels when she froze it, you know the psycho granny from Hell. I'm really starting to believe that Hell couldn't be worse than the anticipation of Hell.

Kitar needed to say what he had to say so we can get this trip underway. Whoever thought I'd call touring Hell "a trip"? At this point, I didn't care what he said about me. Nothing was going to change the outcome, so he just needed to get on with it.

As we reached Kitar's throne, he looked down at Marcus. "Are you all right? I am sorry I was so hard on you, but it is what I do. To be honest, it would have been a great disservice to have done any less, both to you and those you left behind." Then, turning to me, he asked, "Are you ready, my son?"

"Yes," was all I could get out because as soon as he asked all my high-minded "we need to get on with this" went out the door, and I was wondering if I could slink away and hide. I was almost thankful for the attendants that led me to the front of the throne. I'm not sure I could have done it on my own.

As I stood there, I noticed Kitar anew. He was different from the front. Don't get me wrong; he's a sight from the side or back. But when you stand in front of him, you get the full power of his presence.

One of the new things I noticed was that the skulls around his waist had eyes, were alive and looking right at me. One even winked. How does a skull wink, you ask? I don't know, but I swear it did. Also the flames that danced across Kitar's chest appeared to burn brighter, causing more damage to his skin.

Today, he sat a little taller and appeared much larger than he had before. Today, he wasn't just a Demon who judged the damned; he was my judge. Today, I understood the full intensity of what a soul experienced while standing before the creature that would sentence them to eternal torment.

"As I am sure you know, I have had a soft spot for you since you were first brought before me. But now I see your sins, and this is even harder on me. What you are here for is so very common where you are from. Had you been anyone else, we would have never known each other. You would have been delegated to one of the lessor Judges, for your sins do not merit my attention. But today you are mine, and now I must judge you. Do you know what has brought you to these planes?" he asked.

"No, I have no idea, and at this point I really don't care anymore."

"And in that statement is your downfall. The reason you are here is simply because you do not care."

"What?"

"It is that simple. You have never cared about the society you live in, you did not care about the strangers you pass on the street, and you did not care about the outcome of important things that affect your world. You hid behind your profession, saying that since you are a writer you have to be detached from your surroundings. Add to this the fact that your total lack of concern crept into your personal life. Eventually you grew to not care about your family, your friends or anyone who ever wanted to care about you. Your lack of caring became a cancer that fed on your inability to love anyone. You sacrificed everyone around you on the altar of detachment, and for that you will spend eternity in a place that will never care about you."

"Are you kidding me?" I stared in disbelief.

"You also committed the most horrible sin in The Father's eyes. You judged. Yes, of all the things the living can do, judging another soul is by far the worst. The living can kill, rape and make war. Those are all the fallacies of your kind. But to judge another soul, that is the exclusive domain of The Father or his appointed servants, such as myself. It is the single sin by which most souls enter Hell, especially those in the religious field. They misinterpret the scriptures and feel that it is their duty to judge, harass and condemn those who fall short."

"Isn't that what the damn things are for?"

"No. It is a guide of how you should conduct yourself, not how you should remind others to conduct themselves. Sadly, it is from the simple act of judging that almost all conflict, hatred and unhappiness comes, hence why it is the worst of all sins. Not only are you robbing happiness from others but yourself as well. You know it is not your role in creation to judge, and yet by doing so you put what you know is right in direct odds with your actions. Thus you bring pain upon yourself as well as the person you are wronging, and then you are surprised when The Father does not welcome you into his House. What The Father says is 'love everyone as you would love yourself'. So ask yourself, do you wish to be judged as harshly as you have judged others?

"By committing that sin you are also saying, 'I am equal to The Father, who made it clear that only he can judge a soul.' To compare yourself to The Father and raise yourself up like that, there is no greater transgression. Well, my friend, what I hope you get across to the living during this project of yours is when you say 'you are going to Hell because...', you are condemning yourself to this damnation in that single act. If you stop and really think about it, you will understand why no other thing is mentioned more in the Father's book than 'you should not judge.' He says it over and over in so many ways."

"That's just complete and utter bullshit. I'm here because I did what everyone else does."

"True, but here is a little bit of information for your readers. Do you realize that entire generations pass into eternity without a single soul ever making it to The Eternal City? Not one. That sacred place is reserved for the righteous, and most are nowhere close. So you are here because you had one job, to care about your fellow man, and in that simple job you failed."

"I have stood here with you for days. You hear the things these people do, the horrors they subject themselves to and, worse, what they do to others, and you tell me I'm not to judge them?"

"That is exactly what I am telling you. Look behind you. Turn around and look. Spread out across the plains are millions of new souls waiting to pass through these gates. If I could wave my hand and cause all those who are here because of the simple act of judging to vanish, these plains would be bare and for the first time in millions of years the three of us might actually get a break.

"As for what they did, how does that affect you? Why is it your concern what the person beside you did? He or she could be a murderer and still they stand with you here on the Plains of Judgement. Why? Because you took it upon yourself to worry about what that person did at the cost of your own soul. If you wake up in the morning feeling you need to judge, look down, or condemn someone, walk into your bathroom and look in the mirror. The person looking back at you woke up wanting to actively defile The Father's love. You are your soul's keeper. No one else is responsible for it."

Entry 22

My Judgment – Part 2

I looked around and, seeing that the Judge to my left had someone in front of him, I said, "OK, so you're telling me that soul very well might be here because he only judged another?"

Kitar paused. I knew he was communicating with the other judges; I had seen him do it before. He looked back at me and said, "Actually, no, he is here because he is gay."

"WHAT? WHAT?" I was bellowing now. "In case you missed it, Mister Smart Ass, I'm gay as well, and you haven't bothered to mention that!"

"Well, in your case, being gay is not a sin."

"WHAT? How can something be a sin for one person and not another? If that's the case, there's no chance for anyone to make it to The Father's House, as you call it."

"I will explain this, and then we will finish your judgment. Keep in mind that the main goal of the living is to love others as you would love yourself. So with that understood, on your world being gay is not a sin because your world is becoming overcrowded, whereas on that soul's world it is a sin because theirs is a young world that needs to reproduce. How can you love your world and those upon it if through your actions you make it worse?

"Many sins change the weight they carry in the ultimate fate of one's soul based upon the conditions that were in play during their life. Most people think their soul's fate is only determined by how they live their lives and treat those around them. They often overlook the environment and the lesser creatures that populate the planet. It is fine to hunt for food, but it is a grievous sin for a person to torture or mistreat another creature, human or otherwise, just for sport or cruelty. To pollute or waste vital natural resources. Does that make sense?"

"So not having children is good. But wait, didn't The Father say 'go be fruitful and multiply'?"

"Yes, he did, but as the living like to point out, you were given free will and a brain. With those two items, is it that hard to understand that when you have a large portion of your global population starving to death while another part throws away thirty percent of all the food they produce due to the fact they can't eat it something might be wrong?

"So, once a world reaches a point, again like yours, where it is becoming overpopulated, the roles of the two sins reverse, the 'sin' of being gay and the 'virtue' of procreation. The planet reaches a point where the act of procreation is no longer about ensuring the survival of the species but actually more about sloth and greed, as is the case where you are from. Your world has couples that are creating ridiculous amounts of children, and then to make matters worse they do so knowing they are not capable of caring for them. Then they go out and preach about how you should save the planet. Someone needs to tell them that if they really care about the planet they need to close their legs.

"Your world's population is several times over that which is healthy for a planet of that size. It could use an entire generation, maybe two, that did not produce any children at all. That would be an act that would ensure a mass of souls went on their way to meet The Father. Instead, they now are being sent down to the breeding farms of Hell, chained to a board endlessly being raped, to produce more and more worker Demons to keep creation running as their eternal reward. Now do you see my point?"

"Yes, I see the point you're trying to make, and for the record, that's complete and utter bullshit as I think I stated earlier but feel the need to reiterate." I was screaming now I was so angry.

"Well, since we are dealing with things that you do not like, here is one more. All the things that sentenced you here are also what have saved you. How is that for a paradox?"

"Seriously, can I have a chair? I need to sit down. What!!"

"They want this message out. Hell is becoming overcrowded. Not only are you overpopulating your world, but now through this transgression you are overpopulating Hell as well. We have resorted to throwing entire classes of sins directly into the furnaces, skipping the torture stage, just because your kind is making too many damned souls. So you have been spared the pain of being punished for your sins, but you have not been spared the torment of seeing what a world full of people who do not care, like yourself, are condemned to once they reach their eternal reward. And yes, I do consider it a reward because you have earned exactly what is going to be done to you. Hopefully, for you, in doing this one small act you can undo some of the damage you have done."

"Does that mean I might one day enter The Eternal City?"

"No. Once here, you stay here. Forget what the religions tell you. Again the arrogance of man to think they can order The Father, once he has passed judgment upon a soul, to reverse his decision is mind boggling. This belief that you can visit your local priest, say a few prayers and then they will just call up The Father's accounting office and go, 'Yeah I know you said so-and-so was eternally damned but his sister said three prayers so we are phoning to let you know that our head pedophile has overrode The Father's decision. Can you drop Hell a note and let them know The Father was mistaken.' SERIOUSLY? And you wonder why our plains are filled with the 'shepherds of man' as you like to call them. They were your shepherds alright. They lead you right to eternal damnation.

As for you, if you do well, you will live out eternity in Pandemonium as a resident of Hell. There are many souls of the damned living in the major cities of Hell. They live alongside the Demons, aberrations and Hellspawns. Many have lives just like when they were alive. They get up, go to work and have friends. The only difference is they are doing it in Hell.

"Do not get me wrong. To some that is a torture in and unto itself. Too many then become part of Hell, and the horrors become their playthings. I will enjoy checking in on you in a few thousand years to see what you have become. I see in you the ability to be a light in the darkness, but I can equally see you becoming a creature of Hell. Not just a soul condemned to Hell but a creature of Hell, which means you always belonged here. It is my hope that you do not follow that road. We will see. Your journey has only begun.

"Had you just cared a little, you might have saved one soul. Trust me, since I was judged for a similar thing oh so many years ago, after seeing all that happens here, knowing that you could have saved even one becomes a burden of immeasurable weight. You have been judged." He turned to his attendants and ordered, "Take him away."

"That is such shit," I yelled as I was moved from before his throne.

He turned to me again and, with a small smile, said, "Keep that fire. You will need it."

Entry 23

We made it back to camp that afternoon. Marcus and Calmet walked several paces behind me. No one said a thing. I wasn't hurt; I wasn't disappointed. I wasn't sure I was even angry. I think what I felt most was resolved. I wanted to know how such things happen and why the rules are set so opposed to all our ingrained traits The Powers chose to put in us when we were created.

When we reached the camp, I didn't sit in my normal spot. Yes, we had been here long enough that already routines were emerging. Instead, I walked back and sat by the tree, the same tree I had been ripping limbs off of all this time. I knew it had suffered, and now I sat at its base. My knees were pulled up to my chin with my arms wrapped around them, my head resting on their tops.

There, like that I sat, for days, never moving. All the decisions came flooding back. All the choices and opportunities I had been given to connect with one person or another, and how I had come up with an endless stream of lame reasons why I couldn't. I had been given a life, one life that was all, with other people who had been given only one life. We should have all been basking in the glories of our singular gift, but instead we jealously guarded our own loneliness by calling it by a hundred different names.

I wrote in my life an endless number of articles about how the world had fallen apart, and, like Kitar said, I never once looked in the mirror and pointed a finger at the person there as being part of that problem. Had I chosen to care just a bit while I lived maybe, just maybe, I would be among those who cared about me now instead.

It was thoughts like that which kept my current companions away from me as well. So I sat and stared at the lines. Hell was truly becoming Hell.

Entry 24

I was into what I could only barely believe was my fifth day, still under the wounded tree. I no longer sat; I was curled into a ball. Sometimes I would lay flat on my back, others the fetal position, then I would change back to sitting and hugging my knees. Still no one spoke to me.

Finally on the afternoon of that fifth day, the ground... no, not just the ground but the entire atmosphere shook. I looked to Calmet and noticed he was looking off into the distance.

"What was that?" My voice cracked. It had almost forgotten its own sound.

"The Dark Lord is on this plane," Calmet replied.

"Why?"

"He occasionally visits the planes if he has business on one of them."

Marcus walked over and, looking at me, just nodded. "It felt like everything shook. I mean really shook. Not just the physical but everything. It was like all that is had a tremor."

"That is a very good way to put it. Everything that is here, all that resides here, is directly affected by The Dark Lord. His will keeps this place together. Yes, it exists, but when He enters, it is like a person jumping into a pool. There is a displacement. All that is has to make room for all He is because He has precedence over all other things," said Calmet.

"Does he visit Judgment often?" I asked.

"I would not know. This is the longest I have been on this plane in a very long time."

Then, off in the distance, there was a figure. Calmet turned and froze. I stood. Well, at first I tried to stand and failed for, like my voice, my legs had almost forgotten themselves. Finally they remembered and I got up.

Together the three of us watched as the solitary figure slowly walked toward us. With each step, little tremors visibly radiated out from each foot as it touched down upon the ground. When he was about 20 feet away, he stopped.

Now I could see him well. He was a tall man, thin. His hair was black as the night and hung loose down to the middle of his back. All aspects of his face were sharp. All the lines decisive. His lips were deep red, made darker against the whiteness of his porcelain smooth skin.

I met His eyes. It was at that moment that my legs again forgot their task, and I dropped to my knees. In those eyes, you could see such power. Every fiber of my body wanted to turn away, to not face those eyes any longer At the same time I wanted to embrace him, to love him, to feel that power around me, to hold it. My mind screamed "Look away", but I forced myself to match His gaze. Then, for a fleeting second, I made it past the power and there in the back of his eyes was the pain. I knew at that moment I was in the presence of Lucifer himself, for no being could have such pain armored by such strength. Before there was anything, The Father made the Morningstar. It was no wonder everything else paled after that. He had found perfection in his first creation.

When finally my mind willed me to look down, I took in the rest of him. His well-defined legs were luxuriously encased in a pair of black tights that ended just above the ankles. He wore no shoes; He was barefooted. Along the outside of the tights ran scrollwork of gold. When I again risked moving my eyes, I saw that over the tights hung a simple tunic. It was in counterpoint to the tights; the tunic was gold with black scrollwork. Down His back hung a cape and on His side a massive sword.

He walked the last few steps toward us, all three on our knees. Until then, I hadn't even noticed the other two flanking me. With a gloved hand, Lucifer reached out a single finger, placing it just below my chin. He exerted the slightest pressure, and effortlessly I rose to my feet.

He looked at Calmet, and without saying a word, my guide scurried away, never rising. He then looked at Marcus, who burst into tears and fell flat on the ground and moved away as well.

I now stood mere inches from The Dark Lord himself. I could feel His breath on my face. He then smiled. Well, it's hard to call it a smile exactly; the left corner of His mouth rose slightly.

Lucifer spoke. "So you are my writer. I have come to welcome you." Placing his hand on the lower part of my back, He moved me forward and together we moved way from camp. "Walk with me."

Entry 25

"You stood before Kitar after asking to be judged," Lucifer said in a soft voice. "My great-grandson installed that Judge. I have watched him work. I am not sure I would have had the nerve to do such a thing. How did you feel about your judgment?"

"I was, pardon me, am still angry."

"Anger is a good thing. It clarifies the mind. Self-delusion cannot function when the mind is angry. May I ask why?"

"It's unfair."

Lucifer smiled. "Who led you to believe 'fair' entered into it? You have just begun your travels here in My home. I would strongly suggest you abandon all notions of fair now and save yourself the pain."

"But I'm here because I was human. I did what we all do. I did what..." My words trailed off.

"You did what I taught you oh those many years ago. Had Father had his way, none of you little monkeys would have ever known there were choices."

"But why make it so hard?"

"Hard? To what are you referring?"

"To enter The Host."

"Oh that," he said almost dismissively. "It has to be hard, my child, otherwise what reward would it be? All that is creation is flawed, all that is creation is corrupt, all that is creation is wrong. Father might have been your Creator, but you have been your own destruction. So again, I say, it must be hard. As you see, even I am not worthy and I was the first, most loved above all others. Take comfort, little one. You have been spared, and that is a far greater reward than what you mourn by not being there. In time you will understand what you have been afforded."

"Why, My Lord, are you here? Please don't take that wrong, but why would someone like you come to see someone like me, and right now when I'm at my worst?"

"For all the reasons you have just listed. You have been chosen to do a job, and I need you to do it. I was not sure allowing you to be judged was a good idea. I probably should have thought it through a little more. Considered how it might injure you and thus cause you to be unable to perform your task. But then, if history has taught us anything it is that I do not tend to think things through and consider their ramifications. Now do I!"

I turned to him somewhat surprised. Did he just crack a joke?

He then smiled, and again I was surprised. For this time, it was a genuine smile that lit up all around us. "So I came to tell you, I am watching. Fear not about your 'preaching' as you called it. You are here to tell your fellow monkeys the cautionary tale of their obtuseness so maybe they will not repeat the mistakes of so many before. Take another day and then move on with your journeys."

I had not even realized that at some point He had led me back around. Now, as the conversation ended, we again stood beside the fire at the camp.

Turning to Calmet, He said, "Guide them well. You know what will happen if you do not."

He then looked at Marcus and gave a nod of acknowledgement as massive wings burst into existence from his back, the most amazing things I had ever seen. They were the blackest black covered in an opalescence that radiated with the light. He gently flapped them once and effortlessly rose into the air.

I yelled after him, "I would like an interview at some point."

"I know you would," He replied, then there was a great flash and He was gone.

I turned and looked at Calmet, and for a long time no one said a thing. Then, to break the tension, he said, "Well, you've met the boss. You heard what he said. We are out of here tomorrow."

And just like that, the troubling emotions of all the days before were wiped away, and the next morning we began anew.

Entry 26

"He looked so normal," I said.

"Who?" asked Calmet.

"Lucifer."

"You mean The Dark Lord. Do not make the mistake of being that informal if you ever meet Him again. As for the way He looked, He probably chose that look for your benefit. Your mind is still too close to when you were living to be able to fathom Him as He truly is. His true form could have literally blown your soul apart. You have seen Demons, but you have never seen anything like The Dark Lord in his full glory."

"Why do you think He came to see me? I mean really."

"Based upon what you told me about your conversation, He was here to encourage you to... well... get off your ass and get on with it. Pouting has never sat well in Hell, and you have been teaching a Master's class in it of late. You have been on this plane for months. You are dead. Get used to it and move on. You have been given an amazing opportunity. Take advantage of it."

"I guess that makes sense. I can't speak for Marcus, but I'm done with this level. I'm ready to go."

"Oh, so am I. We can go whenever you're ready. I'd like to put as much space between me and those Judges as possible," added Marcus.

"I am glad to hear this. We will set out in the morning then," said Calmet.

Entry 27

When we awoke, like before, Calmet was gone. This time instead of telling Marcus what we should do, he had asked Tree to relay his message. It was short and to the point as always. He would only be gone for a little while and that we should be ready to head out upon his return.

Tree seemed very pleased at the prospect of us leaving and made the point of telling us, several times. Not sure why I've never liked that tree so I rewarded its honesty by tearing off a branch and chucking it into the fire.

When Calmet returned it was still early, and both Marcus and I were sitting beside the fire, watching the endless stream of souls as they emerged from the back of the Castle.

"Does it ever end?" pondered Marcus.

"No," he answered flatly. "Sometimes it is more, sometimes less, but never ends."

"We're told as children that we were all there was. That Earth is it, though that belief is becoming more a fantasy of the religious than the accepted fact of science. How many worlds are there really? Is there any way to know?" I asked.

"There are ten creations and in each creation there are thousands, sometimes millions, of worlds with sentient life. Strangely, most believe that they are the only ones. It seems The Father instilled that arrogance into all the creatures He created. Some think it is to test them when they learn the truth. It is one of the major turning points for many civilizations when they discover they are not alone. That there is really nothing special about them at all."

"Why are there ten creations? That seems like an odd number."

"I am not really sure. I know there were more, but over time several have been raptured."

"What does that mean?" Marcus asked.

"When a rapture is performed, it is basically the shutting down of all that exists within that shell of influence. It is not done often, but you have the honor of arriving at one of those times since a rapture was just done recently."

"Really? I thought they raptured an individual world, not a whole creation," I said.

"If a single world needs to be eliminated, they just wipe it clean. Raptures are only done to full creations." Calmet explained.

"Can I ask you one question?" asked Marcus.

"Sure, what do you wish to know?" Calmet replied.

"Where do you go in the mornings?"

Calmet smiled. "The idea of having a person tell the living the story of Hell had been decided, but all the details were not yet worked out. Then Keith came along and was perfect for the job, so they went ahead with the idea before all the ramifications could be considered. Now with what we have learned already about the problems he is going to face, I have been instructed to come to Pandemonium on a regular basis to report on how things are progressing. This will also allow us to discuss not only what is happening, but what we should or possibly should not allow to happen before we reach the next level. The things you are going to see and experience might be more than your sane mind can deal with."

He paused then continued, "When a soul comes to Hell for punishment, we do not worry about how their minds will deal with all they encounter. On the other hand, we have to keep you sane, functioning and able to produce your journal entries. More and more we are wondering if this is even possible."

"I thought we've done pretty well," I said.

"In some ways you have. The Dark Lord was furious at you being allowed to be judged. However, your human brain survived better than expected."

"Really? He didn't seem that upset. He even joked, well sorta, about it."

"I did not know until this morning myself, and He would never show his displeasure to you. You barely survived the small things you have been through so far. Seeing The Dark Lord angry would clearly put you over the top, and trust me it is not something anyone in creation really wants to be present for. His visit was, as He put it, an attempt to try to recover the situation. All those responsible for allowing you to be judged have been punished, even Kitar."

"That's not fair. As much as I hated what he said, he was just doing his job. And we asked for it."

"Again you use that word 'fair'. This is Hell. Displeasing The Dark Lord is in itself reason enough for punishment. Something it might not hurt to remember."

"Was the punishment bad?" asked Marcus.

"Not really. The Dark Lord feels you were not too badly damaged from that specific event. To be honest, He feels it might have been a blessing since now we know you are still fragile. Remember, we do not worry about the mental states of souls. With you, we have to think about what is to come and in doing so gauge your reactions so we can regulate your speed of progress."

"Well, we have gotten a good dose of what is to come."

Calmet started laughing. I mean really laughing. "You have seen nothing. What you have experienced thus far, even at its worst, is nothing more than a flea on an elephant's back in the greater scheme of things."

We both visibly paled a bit as the seriousness of his laugh sank in. Finally I asked, "So what do we do?"

"Move on. We will decide before each step what is next. Your writing will tell us a lot, and our discussions will tell me the rest. The journey begins today. You have not yet reached Hell. All you have seen until now is just the waiting room."

Entry 28

Around noon we set out. Before leaving, Calmet briefed us on the upcoming part of the journey. Where I had thought we would immediately go to the first level of Hell, he let us know we were getting no benefit of special transports. We were here to tour Hell, and so we would travel on foot. The pass to the next level was two days across the planes of Judgment.

As we set off, I looked back at the camp we were leaving behind. As happy as I was to see it behind us, I feared what was to come would soon make me long for its comfort once again.

We set off into the mass of doomed souls. As we passed, many bowed their heads, not so much out of respect but fear from seeing Calmet. I had grown used to our little Demon guide, but in the eyes of the freshly judged souls, they weren't sure if he was their new master or just a resident passing through.

"You said the other day that they all go to the same place to start. I thought they would go to the different levels," I commented as we worked our way across the landscape.

"No. Regardless of what brought you here, you start at the second level of Hell and continue to drop down through the different planes until you settle upon the one you are ultimately destined for. That way the punishment is longer and slowly increased based upon how evil you truly were."

"Why the second level?" asked Marcus.

"The first level, where we are headed, is only for a precious few. It is for the unbelievers who, though they did not follow The Father, still led pure lives."

We continued toward the wall of mountains, pushing our way through the masses of souls. On each soul's face was etched the realization and fear of what was to come.

"Look at their eyes," said Marcus quietly to me. "So much pain, so much dread."

"I know. We were judged, but we knew going in that nothing would come of it. These poor souls not only suffered the pain of judgment, but now they have eternity..." I had to pause as the weight of what was happening to these people settled down upon me. This wasn't a temporary punishment, something that would soon end. These souls were aware, just like when they were living, and now they walked under their own power toward a punishment without end.

I had nothing more to say. I looked at Marcus and he at me, and we continued following Calmet through the crowds.

Entry 29

We walked the rest of the day, only stopping briefly to sleep as night descended. We found a place away from the crowds, and together we sat in silence. Conversation just didn't seem appropriate. What was there to say?

It was that next morning when we saw the passage leading to Hell. Hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of creatures, all types, stood at the entrance, staring at the gaping hole in the rock face.

"Why are they just standing there like that?" I asked Calmet.

"It is like the shore, just one of the little torments. They must decide to enter."

"So they can stand here forever?"

"Of course not, but surprisingly most do eventually enter of their own accord. There is something about the living spirit that says 'let's get this over with', ignoring the fact it will never end."

We pushed past the crowds and entered the tunnel. It was a long dark place. The walls were of rough stone and the ceilings high above us. As we walked, occasionally water would drip down upon us.

"I didn't think there was water in Hell. Why are we being dripped on?" asked Marcus.

"Look up," was all Calmet said.

We both looked up to discover that attached to the ceiling of the cave -- well, not really attached but more like growing out of it -- were hundreds of female souls. Their bodies were only half exposed; the rest lost back into the rocks itself. They were all crying, and their tears rained down onto the souls as they passed below.

"That's horrible. Why are they there like that?" I said in horror.

"They are women who killed their children, forever imprisoned inside the rocks to rain their tears down upon all that enter Hell."

"Their eyes are closed. Are they awake?" asked Marcus.

"No, not really. They are fully conscious but in a trance of sorts. Forever the movie of what their murdered children could have become plays over and over in their mind's eye. For eternity, they live out the lives of the children they never gave the opportunity to grow up," explained Calmet.

"Don't they get used to the dream over time?" I asked.

"No, each time the dream ends their memory fades and then it starts again fresh, seeing it as if for the first time."

I stood looking up, lost in shock, but now that I understood I no longer felt sorrow for these souls. Their punishment to me seemed gentle for the horrors they had visited upon their innocent children.

I looked at Marcus who agreed by saying simply, "Seems reasonable, if not a bit tame."

I looked back to Calmet and motioned that we could continue. Together we walked down the tunnel, the occasional drops of sorrow we now relished instead of shunned. I even lifted my head and opened my mouth allowing a drop to fall in. As the small droplet mixed with my own moisture the images of a child raced through my head. I saw for an instant a soul that never was. I looked up at the lady who had cried it and smiled. She deserved her pain.

Entry 30

I think both Marcus and I were somewhat surprised at how pleased we were at learning how those who had killed their children were being punished. We knew from our time with Kitar that most people who arrive in Hell actually did deserve their punishment, regardless of how badly ours might have gone. I had also learned that most things weren't always how they seemed, and that was the case with the tears.

We had been in the passage for a while when we started to realize that they weren't just the tears of the damned but also the sorrow that was behind them. As we continued to get wetter so did the weight of the pain. The grief as well as the images began to dance in the backs of our minds. Like the drop I had tasted, we began to see the children's lives that never were. It became clear why they forced all the damned, regardless of their sin, to pass through this place. It was the start to the slow tearing down of all that they were. It was the beginning of the process, the fostering of a better Hellish product, which of course was suffering.

The cave seemed to have a stronger effect on Marcus because as the day grew on he became quieter and more melancholy. It was what I assume was around mid-afternoon when we came to a fork and the bodies enshrined above us ended. The left the passage continued and most of the other souls were following it while to the right two Demons stood guard. As we walked up, both guards stood aside for us to pass.

"Why is this route guarded?" I asked.

"This route leads to the first plane of Hell. Only those destined for this place are allowed passage. All others follow the left route down to the second level where their judgments begin."

We walked for a while longer down a much cleaner path, and it wasn't long before we started to smell the scents of clean air, water and grains. When we emerged, we were again surprised by the scope of Hell. By this time, the day was waning and there just inside the first plane we camped for the night.

Marcus continued his malaise as we set up camp. Just as I finished forming the rocks around the spot where we would build a fire, Calmet suggested he and I go collect some root vegetables and firewood. Marcus would stay behind to finish preparing the pit.

"Marcus' mood seems to have turned."

"I noticed as well," I answered as we walked. "I want to find out why after we get dinner going. I want you there, since I feel it'll have to do with the people in the cave."

"That is why I am here, to answer questions. We know at times you will see something and react, but your first reaction is not always the end of the story. I look forward to seeing how the two of you will deal with what you see. You still have the living point of view, and that is foreign to most of us. The concerns of the living are often diametrically opposed to the actual way those who run creation see things. It is that disconnect which drives why you are here."

I want to deal with what transpired with Marcus that evening before moving on to the First Plane of Hell. It will be saved for a later entry when we actually begin to journey into it.

Entry 31

We made it back and prepared dinner. As we ate, Marcus sat away on the other side from us; dinner was shrouded in silence. Finally, when we were no longer really eating, only pushing around the remains on our plates, I asked, "What's wrong, Marcus?"

He sat quietly for a long time, looking down. Just as I was about to ask again, he said, "It's the cave."

"But as you said, they deserve what they have coming," I reminded him.

"I know but... it's just..."

I looked at Calmet, indicating he should probably contribute something at this point. Sadly what he told us didn't help.

"Those souls are being punished for their sins, but that is only a small part of why they are there, in that tunnel. They are in that particular place so they can cry their tears onto those passing into Hell. The souls that pass below have all been judged and are on their way to their punishment. This is the start of us instilling the necessary sorrow and pain into them. Think of the weeping females in the ceiling as nothing more than a means to an end."

"A MEANS TO AN END! What about all the children they killed?" barked Marcus.

"What about them? First, we had nothing to do with the decisions those souls made to torture and kill their children. We are only dispensing the punishment for actions they took while living. If you want to be mad about the fact some mothers kill their children, you are talking to the wrong people. That is the domain of The Host. Also, and I know this will be in conflict with all you have been told while alive, but children are meaningless. Plain and simple, they are nothing but empty vessels."

"How can you say that? They carry the future of the entire race. All the hopes of what we dream our world will become," I replied, trying to stay calm, unlike Marcus who looked like his head was about to explode. He had thrown his plate down and was now pacing back and forth.

"Until a child reaches the point where they comprehend the concept of good and evil, and its consequences, they are nothing more than shells. They can be disposed as needed."

"WHAT! That makes no sense," screamed Marcus from across the camp.

"The vessel that is a child before it is given a soul is really nothing more than a test for those who care and teach them. They spend the first few years of their lives as the receptacle for the kind of creatures the culture around them has become. It is only once a child reaches the age where they receive their own souls that the responsibility for their future transfers from their caretakers to them. Until that time they are nothing more than stored energy. Think of them as potential."

"And that's why it's such a sin to destroy them?" asked Marcus.

"The sin is not killing the child. The sin is the act of making and not wanting them. As Kitar told you about being gay, the birthing of unwanted, or worse, excessive children is in some worlds one of the worst sins to commit. Hell does not judge the death of the child as the sin in the case of the women in the tunnel. Hell judges the actions of those who should have cared for them and how they destroyed, or allowed to be destroyed, a helpless creature dependent solely on them. A child's whole life is defined by how they are treated and cared for during their childhood. The actions, be them good or evil, are often played out through the subsequent generations."

"I was always led to believe that the death of a child automatically ensured that child a place in Heaven," I said.

"A lot of cultures want to believe that, but use your intelligence and think. In less advanced civilizations, children die by the droves due to the lack of any number of things from starvation, civil unrest, medical skills, etc. How could all those souls go to The Host? Moreover, if a parent truly believed that their child was destined for such an afterlife, would it not make more sense to kill the child before they reached the age of accountability, thus ensuring that child's admittance into The Eternal City? Would not the act of allowing them to live a sad and unfulfilling life, possibly damning their soul at every turn, not in itself be a selfish act punishable by eternal damnation? Do not tell me you do not know better. Even I give your kind more credit than that. You say offspring are a gift, and in that I find the disconnect. The child is not a gift but a test. The gift comes once they receive their soul. That raises the parents up in the eyes of The Father."

"A child is only a test? That's insane," replied Marcus.

"No, you were right earlier. They are the continuation of your species and the hope for your future. The test comes in how they are raised. A child brought willingly into a wonderful society to live a life of meaning is the greatest gift the living can give. But when used as a way to fix a marriage, populate a state so wars can be waged or, worse still, for no reason other than lust then it is one of the gravest of sins."

"It just seems there's a double standard there."

"There is, to be honest. This has never been really said, but I personally think it also has to do with the fact The Father gave the living the ability to produce life while denying the members of The Host that simple gift. The Angels of The Eternal City cannot reproduce, and they have never forgiven The Father for that."

"Then how does The Dark Lord have a great-grandchild?"

"I said the members of The Host. Those in Hell can reproduce now. The Dark Father saw to that when he and the other Angels fell."

"Really, how so?"

"Let us not get into that tonight. That would require the history of the Great War, and you need to understand more of the small parts of the puzzle before trying to see the whole picture."

"But then why does Hell sentence the mothers to an eternity of suffering by forcing them to see the potential of what their child could have become if their children mean nothing in the greater scheme of things?"

"As I said, they are just a tool used to start the process of those who are entering the Planes of Torment. Those entering are still tied to many of their living ideas. The pain of mothers who have somehow abused their children and the regret that accompanies it is a good start down the road they have been sentenced to travel."

"Why? Why do souls have to suffer so? What purpose does it serve?" asked Marcus.

"Back at the beginning, Creation had an energy problem. It was then that The Dark Lord discovered the power contained in the suffering of the living. Suffering is what runs Creation. It is what we burn in the fires, and from that comes the energy that powers all that is. You will see and learn much more about that once we reach the lower planes."

Marcus shook his head as if that was more than he could understand, so he continued with the previous issue. "So the souls we encountered today are paying the price not so much for the act of killing their soulless child, but because they destroyed the potential of what that child could have become?"

"Exactly. Not only that child, but all who could have come from that child. For in one child's eyes an entire world could rise or fall."

"What if the child was destined to be evil?"

"I was wondering if you were going to catch that. If you had noticed, all those you saw today, all the images you experienced were positive. Only those mothers who would have produced good children hang from the roof of the cave. The mothers who produced bad or inconsequential children do not suffer the punishment of eternal regret but the simple sin of murder, and those souls you will meet when we reach that plane."

"You always say the mother. What happens if the father kills the child? There were no men up there."

"We will come to them in time. Their punishment is worse because they were the protectors of their family. To allow the mother or, worse still, they themselves, to kill a child sentences them to a pain far worse than what the female suffers up on the roof of the cave."

Marcus and I sat there in silence. We had more questions, but like before, we had both reached the limit of what we could comprehend or for that matter even wanted to know. We valued life too much, and more and more I was starting to understand what Calmet had once said about us only being firewood, of no consequence.

Finally, I looked at him and asked, "So again you're telling me we're nothing?"

"Well, yes, but you being nothing is not the same as if you deny your child, or anyone for that matter, the possibility of becoming something. Keep that in the back of your mind. It is about the overall potential of the soul, not their future acts specifically. There are many women lodged into the ceiling of that cave whose children, had they been given the opportunity, would have grown up to do horrible, horrible things. But as you will learn, good and evil is subjective. Sometimes an evil act can ultimately lead to more good in a civilization than the harm caused by the original act. Think of it this way. The best way to renew a forest is often to burn it down. So those women hang not seeing the evil their child actually would have performed if allowed to live, but they forever are forced to see the consequences of their child's potential actions which in some cases would have saved entire worlds."

"This is all so much. I don't know if I can take this journey." Finally, looking at me, he begged, "Please tell me what I should do."

Before I could answer, Calmet stepped in and for the first time we saw a different side of him. He said in almost a hiss, "Stop lamenting over every small, meaningless thing. If you two insist on whimpering every time you see what you feel is an injustice, you will spend eternity crying. And that I can tell you now I will tire of quickly. Then it will be easy to decide that you cannot do as you were requested, leaving us no option but to demonstrate to you what real suffering is. This is Hell. Report what you see."

He took a deep breath, but it didn't seem to calm him any. "There is justice here, but it does not necessarily take the form you consider just. This is another example of your kind's arrogance. To think you can decide what is right, ignoring the definitions imposed by those who made you. You are nothing but the playthings of a long vacant creator. We are the definers of good and evil, and you are just the vessels that play it out. Of that you need to be clear. As you said before, you understood the reason for the souls to be punished for their actions. Do not over think it. We use every soul that enters Hell in any way we see fit. Our goal is to produce and extract suffering, by any means.

Calmet pushed himself up until he was standing over us. "Tonight I suggest you get rest, for the days to come will test your resolve. This sniveling ends here, leave it on this plane. Tomorrow we enter the First Level of Hell. Good night."

And just like that, our lesson for the day ended.

Entry 32

With all the drama of the caves behind us, we made it to the first level of Hell. If you have the same reaction I did, you're going to be sorely disappointed. I mean, yes, overall we haven't been dealing so well with all the horrors of this place. But to find the stillness of fields, strange creatures tending little patches of crops and a village below a castle was not at all what I had expected. WHAT? The first level of Hell was fucking Kansas.

Now you might ask yourself why I was so surprised when just two entries ago I was blowing this place off and picking vegetables for dinner from one of the local farms. Well, the truth is what you're reading now, in part, happened before the conversation we had about the caves. I just felt we should deal with that before we moved on, so I edited the order slightly. We had just made camp, but with all that transpired with Marcus I wanted to save the description and such until I officially started the First Level of Hell. I had to scramble to figure bits out since word came down that the entries had gotten too long and from now on there would be strict limits on their size.

They also realized that if they were going to require me to edit and limit word count, they'd have to come up with a different form of extraction. Yes, I do mean extraction. So my brain bug has been replaced with Hell's version of a laptop. It's not really a laptop in the "Oh, isn't that a cute laptop?" sense, but more the "OH MY FUCKING GOD, what the Hell is that?" sense. It's still a creature, I think, but it has a display and keyboard so I get to type, read and edit my entries, but that's where the similarities end. This "machine" has four sharp talons. When I'm not actively using the thing, it crawls up and over my shoulder, or occasionally and more disturbingly down, between my legs and up over my ass, before it attaches itself to my back where it stays until I next need it.

To give you some idea what it looks like, watch Naked Lunch. When you see his typewriter, picture that machine being made by the Alien monster creator H.R. Giger and you pretty much have my new input device. To sum it up, "it's creepy as fuck." Luckily it only hangs onto my back while we're traveling. When we're resting or going about our business, it detaches and stays back at camp. This too I see as their not-so-subtle-way of motivating me. If I work, I'm spared pain. Otherwise, I suffer the constant reminder that they're waiting for my next entry.

They must like this thing ("they" meaning the editors), and I have to admit it's more like Hell than the level we're on now. If I'm being slow, unproductive or just plain... well... me, they can order the thing to dig deeper into my flesh with its talons, inflicting amazing amounts of pain. I can't help wonder if The Dark Lord knows of this. For some reason, I don't think he'd approve. I'm here to write about what I see, and they're using torture to extract the entries. Do they really expect this tactic to encourage FAIR reporting on my part?

Entry 33

Now on to the First Plane of Hell. When we stepped out of the caves, what we saw was nothing like what we'd expected. As I had said before, spanning the plain in front of us, were fields of grain, groves of trees and a large lake. Off in the distance was a medieval town, complete with a Castle set against the ever present mountains at the back of the village.

"What's this?" I asked.

"The first level of Hell," answered Calmet.

"Seriously, am I going have to fight you for information?" I responded in almost a growl.

He laughed. "No, but it is. This place was created for those who did not merit either kind of eternal reward but had to be put someplace. They are the virtuous souls, those who were never baptized or followed other paths. The Father demanded early on that a place be made for them here in Hell but not of Hell. Together Lord Lucifer and Lord Michael made this place for those who have no home in eternity."

"In our world are they like the Pagans?" asked Marcus.

"Exactly. That is normally how it begins until finally a civilization reaches a certain point and then often the worship of the physical world is replaced by those who worship the workings of the world, the scientists. They become the new outcasts of eternity. They no longer believe in The Powers but still live honorable and caring lives."

"Really? So not everyone is destined for either eternal reward or damnation? As The Buddha said on my world - There's a middle ground?" asked Marcus as we walked through grain up to our chest.

"Well, of a kind. Those who end up here really have to be something special, someone that contributed to their Creation but for one reason or another just never got around to believing."

"It sounds perfect to me."

"I guess. Many of those who end up here seem to join you in that belief, but there are drawbacks."

"Such as?"

"You will see," said Calmet with a smile.

"My money is on the castle. So far I haven't seen a castle in Hell that doesn't mean pain and suffering," I added.

"And you would be correct."

We continued to walk through the fields, the grain eventually giving way to gardens of vegetables and fruits. Some I recognized but many I didn't. It was then we began to see the residents of the plane. They were as varied and different as the strange things growing in the fields. Not only were they clearly from different times, based upon their dress, but cultures, planets and even species.

"So anyone from anywhere shows up here?" asked Marcus.

"Yes. It does not matter. The rules are the same across all Creations. There is only one Hell and one Host."

"That must make for some strange encounters."

"They learn pretty quickly what is going on and either adjust or not. You will find individual cottages set away from the main village. Those are often occupied by the two extremes. Either they cannot get past all that has become of them, or they are like your Buddha and choose to set themselves apart to continue their devotions."

"Why would some continue their devotions now knowing their beliefs weren't correct? As I understand it, Buddhism is about impermanence and being in service of others. It seems to me that of all places, there is now permanence. They're here for eternity. As for being in service of others, is that not The Father's message?

"It is, but you must acknowledge The Father for him to acknowledge you."

"OK, that I can understand, but this is a nice compromise I would think. As for the others you mentioned, do you mean those who couldn't get past their prejudices from when they lived?"

"Oh no, that would be a sin. As you will learn, those who reside here must walk that fine line or else end up being removed to suffer the fate of those that sin."

"So Hell does have some power here?"

"This is basically a hands-off plane, but yes, of course. This is still The Dark Lord's domain. When we get to the castle, you will understand more clearly."

"But you said The Father insisted upon this place."

"In some ways, but it was The Dark Lord who actually created it, coming up with the compromise both sides could live with, strangely enough."

"Really? Why?" I asked.

"He did not feel they were ripe for the picking when it came to suffering. The Host is very absolute as to who enters The Eternal City. They decided that on the rare occasion where a soul is pure enough to not be punished but not righteous enough to merit reward, this would be where they would end up."

Entry 34

As we walked into the village, we found most of the residents standing in the main square watching us as we arrived. Some wore faces of curiosity, others fear, but most didn't at all look pleased or inviting in any way.

"Where is what you call a leader? I have been sent by The Dark Lord on business," barked Calmet, causing most of the residents to flinch.

One of the more noble looking townspeople stepped forward. "I am the overseer of this town. Why are you here and what do you want?"

"Watch your tone, little monkey, or I will send you all to be judged. How long has it been?"

Marcus and I looked at each other as almost everyone upon hearing mention of "judgment" stood a bit straighter and inhaled in fear. This was generally a hands-off area, it was still Hell and everyone knew it.

I turned back to find Calmet standing quietly, waiting to see what they would say next. Finally the leader spoke. "I am sorry, my Lord. How may we be of help?"

Calmet smiled, saying, "We will be staying and surveying this level for the next few days. We will need lodging, and I expect everyone to give us their full cooperation. If either of my companions need anything or wish to talk to the residents, you will do whatever they ask. You can show us to our quarters now."

We were taken across the main square and down one of the short side roads where we were shown into a small cottage. "Will this do, my Lord?" asked the leader.

"Yes, it is fine. Now have food and drink brought. My companions liked the look of your crops so bring an assortment and some meat."

"Would you like them raw, or should we prepare them for you?"

"It must have been the long journey because I could swear I hear that tone again. I honestly had forgotten about a servant. Send one. Someone who can attend us during our whole stay. They will not only need to be able to serve but cook for us as well. I would suggest someone young, male and handsome. Now be gone before you annoy me further and take your tone with you."

"Yes, my Lord," was all he said as he bowed and headed out of the room.

"Young, male and handsome?" I asked.

"You say you have suffered enough so far, we might as well let you sample some of the pleasures as well."

"Yeah, whatever..." I said rolling my eyes, though I had to admit I was curious.

"Wait. What about me? Any women you want to send over?" asked Marcus.

Calmet and I just turned with smiles on our faces. "Really... Well, you would have to stop crying and bitching. I hear in most creations mates do not find that attractive. But I will see what I can dig up. Maybe putting your cock somewhere will help your mood."

"Not really dig up, right?" asked Marcus.

"Seriously." Calmet just chuckled.

The cottage was nice. The walls were dark stone, clearly having been mined from the surrounding mountains. The furniture was sparse but functional. There were two small couches and a low table in front of a fireplace. Beside the front door was a dining table with four chairs pushed up against the wall. On the other side was a cooking pit, sink and counter for food preparation. Across from the entrance was the only other door in the room which led to a bedroom containing two beds. On the walls hung a variety of paintings, some quiet nice while others were crude. The floor was covered in an array of different rugs of various sizes and colors.

"So they're allowed to build?" I asked.

"Yes. They have built this small village, and as I said earlier there are other cottages dotting the landscape. We are under strict orders to leave this level alone. As you can tell from our arrival, they are not used to visitors. "

"Even the hierarchy of Hell must stay away," I followed up.

"They do so only by choice. Nowhere is forbidden to them. Well, that is not completely true. It is rumored that The Dark Lord's great grandson, Xia, is forbidden to step foot here."

"Really? I've heard you mention him several times. Why is he forbidden?"

"You will see his talents later when we get to the tortures. He is by far one of the most hated..." Calmet paused. "Make that feared members of The Dark Lord's family. He is quick to anger and almost never forgives. He is also the apple of The Dark Lord's eye, and I would dare say the second most destructive force in Hell when he sets his mind to it. Pray you never get the honor of meeting him."

I made a mental note to follow up about this Xia and the rest of The Dark Lord's family at a later date.

Entry 35

As we sat at the table, Marcus asked, "I don't understand. What was that about them being judged? Have they not been judged once already?"

"Did you think they would get to live like this for eternity?" Calmet responded coolly. "One of the reasons they are left alone is so they could build this community. Some here will rise while others fall. All the natural things that happen when the living are placed in close proximity happen here as well. Every so often a few petty torments are sent their way just to test their metal. They are required to make regular visits to the Castle. There it is determined if they will be allowed to stay or be sent to one of the other levels to be punished for their sins."

"So they're basically given a life here so they can fuck up and do something that dooms them to the Pit?" asked Marcus.

"I could not have phrased it better myself."

"Do any ever ascend? You know, go to the Eternal City?" I asked.

"I have heard of it happening a few times but not very often."

I was about to ask more when a knock came at the door. Calmet barked, "Enter."

A youth who couldn't have been out of his early 20's entered the room. He bowed. "I was sent to serve your needs, my Lord."

Calmet looked at me and smiled. "Stand. Let me have a look at you." He did so and Calmet turned to me with a half-smile. "He will do nicely, do you not think?"

I walked over to Calmet and softly whispered into this ear, "He's so young. As long as he's here, I won't see him hurt. Are we clear?"

"Already in love? That was fast."

"No! I need information, and we won't get it by threatening these people. So none of your shit while we're here. I suggest you remember, my Lord Calmet, you're our guide which makes you my servant as well. Are we clear?" I barked at our guide.

Calmet stared at me in disbelief then, with a dismissive wave, turned back to the new servant. "Fix them something to eat, but first find us wine and lots of it."

He stood turning his gaze to me. Calmet growled as I said, "Thank you. See what you can find and then dinner would be nice."

The youth bowed again then rushed from the room, closing the door behind him.

Calmet turned to me with fury in his eyes. "What the fuck was that, you insignificant little bug?"

"That's called good cop/bad cop. I've just ingratiated myself with that man and then sent him off to get supplies. I bet almost everyone in the village will soon be getting an update on how I put you in your place and ordered you not to hurt him. Now I can do my job without having to fight constantly for information."

Calmet thought for a moment and then started laughing. "OK. So see ordering you a hot guy helped. Clearly your brain is in your cock and just needed blood. It is nice to see you using it instead of just running around weeping like a child."

"Oh, shut up." I laughed. "Since this is our first real plane of Hell, how much time are we allotted?"

"Have we not had this discussion already? You have all the time you need. To be honest, we were planning to let you use this as a base, so to speak. We have seen how the sights of Hell are likely to affect you. It was suggested that I bring you back here from time to time to rest until you become more hardened."

"We just arrived and, in my admittedly short time in Hell, if I have learned one thing it is nothing is as it seems." I was cut off by Marcus.

"But if it is as it appears, that might not be a bad idea."

"Ok, so we will settle in for a while," I said. "Let's rest tonight. Tomorrow you two make yourselves scarce, and I'll talk to the servant. I have to find out his name. I'm not calling him 'servant'."

"You take all the time you need getting to know him," said Calmet with a smile.

"Gawd, give it a rest. I'm in Damnation. I don't think my dick even works anymore."

"Oh, it does. When it wakes up, I have a feeling it will want to have a chat with you as well."

Entry 36

Usis (that's the servant's name) returned a short time later carrying not only a large basket full of vegetables and fruits but much to my surprise what appeared to be the bodies of some rabbits as well.

"I took the liberty of catching three gimrats. They're not very big, but they should serve as a meal. Do you have a preference as to how I should prepare them?"

"There's wildlife on the planes of Hell?"

"Oh yes, my Lord. Some like the gimrats are prey, but there are also creatures big enough that we are their prey. Fortunately those tend not to enter town that often. We raise gimrats for the village. Their meat is good, and many find it preferable to that of other souls."

"I can understand completely. I've spent a lot of time so far trying not to think about what exactly it is I'm eating. As for the ingredients, how about a stew? Do you know what a stew is?"

"No, my Lord. I am sorry," he said, bowing deeply.

"First, my name is Keith, not my Lord, so we can cut that out. As for a stew, it's a combination of meats and vegetables in a broth."

"Oh yes, we have those. We often use them to make the supplies go further."

"Exactly. So let's do that. Do you have bread? You know, a grain product?"

"Yes, my... Keith. I have learned about bread from some of the people from your world. We have something similar where I come from. It's called paurry. One of the other residents makes it fresh daily. I'll bring some after I get the stew..." He smiled, having used his new word. "... started, if that's satisfactory."

"Completely." I moved in beside him, adding, "I'm just another soul consigned here like you. You have nothing to fear from me."

He studied me a long time, then his gaze shifted toward the door to the bedroom where Calmet had gone. Finally, he looked back to me.

"He's my guide, nothing more. He'll do as I instruct him. You're safe inside this house, that I promise you," I said.

He looked into my eyes for a long time, then bowed his head. "Thank you, my Lord."

"Call me Keith," I reminded him gently.

I walked to the couch and sat while Usis started to cut up the ingredients. I felt bad for not helping, but to be honest I was mentally and physically exhausted. Though this cottage looked like something out of a medieval novel, it was still close enough to home to make me long to just sit and enjoy it while I could.

As I watched the new member of the household at work, I couldn't help wonder why someone so young was here in Hell. "Usis, what caused you to end up here?" I asked.

He looked up from the table. "I had been raised to believe in nature, my Lor... Keith, and not to believe in a God. My vocation had been as a healer, and I had spent most of my life helping others in one form or another. Skirmishes in our kingdom had led to small local wars that later grew larger. I was opposed to the whole idea so I'd sneak in and help whom ever had fallen, be them on our side or not. I was caught and put to death by our local Mayor."

"Really? That seems pretty selfless to me. I'm surprised you ended up here."

"It appears, my Lord, that we have to believe in their God before we are welcomed into the place of honor. I have been told about their "Eternal City" and what it is like. I am content to be here. I get to do what I enjoy which is to serve. I help out around town, and overall I am pleased with how my fate has played out."

"You have no interest in going to The Eternal City?" I asked, becoming resigned to the fact that I was going to be a lord in his eyes.

"No, my Lord. That is a belief I have never shared or had aspirations for. I do not feel I am missing anything. From what I have learned, it is a much stricter way of living, and I enjoy some of the more savory things Hell has to offer." He smiled. "And there I would have to give them up. I just have to balance my passions, for above all I do not wish to go down any farther. I have learned what that is like as well, so I struggle to feed my desires while ensuring I stay here on this plane, which is not that hard."

"Really?"

"Yes. With my desire to serve and see people happy, it seems I have found a nice counter to my more... how do you say... licentious qualities."

I made a mental note of his careful selection of words. Had his body not been enough, I was now curious about what his people's definition of licentious was. Clearly Calmet had been right. It stunned me how one carefully selected word had awoken a need in me that I had been sure was as dead as I was. I smiled.

Entry 37

Marcus returned just before dinner, and for the first time since the cave he had a small smile on his face. We sat together chatting as we ate. Many of the vegetables we couldn't recognize, but the flavor was good and just the warmth and familiarity of the soup took us away from Hell and back home when things were simpler.

Afterward we stretched out on the couches drinking wine while Usis cleaned up the dishes across the room. I sat watching the young man clean, not even noticing Marcus studying me.

"Looks like Calmet might have been right," he said.

"Meaning?"

"You seem to be interested in our little guest. Are we feeling the need to see if he swings the same way as you, so to speak?" said Marcus, smiling as he looked at me over his glass.

"Oh stop. He's cute, but have you forgotten where we are? I will say mmmm if that makes you feel any better. By the way, where did you vanish to today?"

"I most certainly haven't disappeared," he said, avoiding my question as best he could. "Besides, we're in Hell. As I understand it, that means all bets are off. You're immune. Our sins don't count anymore. Even if they did, no one counts sex as a sin here. It might very well be time for you to let off a little steam. How is that saying? Oh right. It's not 'let off'; it's 'blow off'. That seems more fitting anyway."

I looked at him. "What's gotten into you? Why are you pushing me toward this?"

"Well, he's not my flavor for one, and he seems like such a fine specimen to waste. Besides, who says I'm not working on my own blowing as well?"

I raised my eyebrow at him. "Your own 'blowing'? Now I understand why you weren't chosen to be the writer on this one. Is that even a word? I do feel the need to ask again where were you today. As I recall the first time I asked I was met with a diversion tactic. I won't be dissuaded so easily."

"I was just out meeting the villagers. They have a decent inn here as well as these houses. They make their own spirits. It's not distilled soul juice."

"Really? I should check it out. It could be something to write about."

"Absolutely. Speaking of that, what do you plan on doing here, since you are on the clock so to speak?"

"I plan on talking to the residents, finding out their histories and what life here is like. What's the central square like?"

"It's classic medieval from what I remember. Most of the multistory houses are around the central area, the first floor being shops and, if my guess is correct, the second floor is where the vendor lives. So it is basically a meeting place. You plan on seeing it?" He looked rather intent as he waited for me to answer.

"I think we will be here for a week at least, probably. I'll find a spot to hold the interviews elsewhere. I don't want people in our space."

"That will do nicely. I need the normality, and I agree on not having them here."

"You do seem to be in a better mood," I observed.

Marcus shrugged. "It really is a concerted effort. Every time things start to wear on me, I remind myself where I am. Plus, I think Calmet might be right."

"You, the great critic of our dear guide, now think he might be right about something. Pray tell me, how so?"

"We're judging all we see in terms of the living. We aren't alive any longer, and we're in Hell to boot. We need to accept where we are, thus changing our perceptions of what we see."

"Yeah, I thought about that too. It's like the tortures. We see them like they're being done to a living person. These are their souls, and they got themselves into this mess. We can fight to protect our old views, but in the end I think that's only going to lead to more pain then comfort. We need to just accept what we see for what it is and move on. But that's easy to say sitting here in this little cottage, isn't it?"

"Yeah, then we'll get out here and get butt-fucked into reality. I have a feeling no matter what we get used to, there will always be worse around the corner."

"Butt-fucked into reality? Whatever that metaphor might lack in taste I fear it more than makes up for in prophecy."

"I can't help wonder if maybe there is some way to change the system. This Devil guy did get his ass kicked once. Maybe there's a way we can help to ease the pain around here."

I looked at Marcus, stunned. "You need to get over that idea. This system has been in place for millions of years. There's no way you can change it. And even if you could, what's the alternative? No, you need to forget that foolishness. I looked into The Dark Lord's eyes. I saw the vistas of Creation in there, but what was missing is a keen sense of forgiveness and understanding."

Entry 38

Editor's Note: We will be inserting sections into the journal that our subject will not have access too. These sections are being provided as operational information. At times these will further explain the events happening on our subject's travels or, as is the case here, act as background information on the workings behind the scenes.

Calmet passed nervously through the front gates of The Dark Lord's Keep. For weeks now he had been meeting with one of the lessor Demons in the small city just inside the cave leading onto the Great Plains. Tonight was the first of what he had been told would become monthly meetings with The Dark Lord himself.

Calmet walked up to the massive front doors of Morningstar Keep. It wasn't the only Keep that hung from the mountains behind the capitol city of Pandemonium. Most of The Fallen had homes here. However, it was by far the largest.

Just as he was about to knock, the small door set inside the massive front doors swung open and behind it stood a pitiful creature. "The Dark Lord awaits you. This way." Without another word, it turned and led him into the great hall.

Calmet had never been to the Keep. He had seen it, of course, hanging above Pandemonium like a great burden the mountain had to carry. From its ramparts you could see not only the entire city but miles out onto the Great Plains. Calmet couldn't help but notice as he approached that the construction to repair the damage was still ongoing. You had to give it to The Morningstars. When they had a family squabble, all Hell broke loose. Literally. A good portion of the back of the castle had been blown away and lay in rubble.

The great hall was everything he had ever expected it to be. It was dark, huge and filled to the brim. Set In the center was a massive fireplace, so big that even a large Demon could have walked easily through it without feeling the urge to bend down. It was open on both sides and provided what was really the only light in the great chamber.

It wasn't until he got closer that Calmet noticed among the flames dancing in the inner hearth were dozens of souls, all writhing and silently screaming from the pain as the fire snaked across their bodies. They would burst up from the hole in the bottom of the hearth to do their dance of agony, circling up and around the flames eventually to vanish again through the hole back to wherever the blaze came from. There was a steady progression of fresh agony presented as entertainment for those who had business with The Dark Lord.

The room was littered with massive tables, bookcases and cabinets, all filled to over-flowing. On the walls hung tapestries playing out the different scenes from The Dark Lord's past. Scattered here and there were an assortment of mementos from the many different civilizations that populated Creation. Everything here screamed Power, but if you looked a little closer, it also, in many ways, looked like a home. A lived in home, complete with paintings of the various members of the Morningstar family, many whom no longer walked Creation.

Calmet followed the servant who slunk along beside him, almost never raising its head. They wove their way through the tables and statues until eventually coming around the great fireplace. There in the back corner was a large sitting area. It was then that he saw The Dark Lord perched comfortably in the center of one of the couches, sipping from a golden goblet.

Lucifer wasn't dressed as he was always encountered in Hell. He wore a simple black tunic, its collar and cuffs lined with silver scrollwork. His long, supple legs were hugged by black tights that even in this dull light shimmered with little flashes of starbursts. But the thing that caught Calmet's eyes the most was his beauty. Normally one would never look directly at The Dark Lord, and never had Calmet seen him when he wasn't radiating his power as was his namesake, "The Morning Star". For now he was just a divine beauty, sitting and casually sipping his drink.

His hair wasn't down, that was it Calmet realized. That was why one could so easily see his face. The jet black locks were pulled back behind his neck in a single ponytail encircled by a band of silver and black stones. Those eyes...

Calmet was stunned, almost immobile. He would have stopped in place had the servant not continued to nudge him forward.

Calmet remembered himself and bowed his head, hearing his Master ask, "Wine?"

Before Calmet could respond, the servant placed a goblet into his hand. He should have realized that it hadn't been a question so much as an offer not to be refused.

"Please sit," said Lucifer as Calmet moved to the seat on the couch his Master had indicated. "Tell me of their progress."

Entry 39

Editor's note: By orders of The Dark Lord, after his meeting with our subject's guide the limit on length of these entries has been relaxed until the subject can move beyond the first plane. Our Lord stresses that there is much more to Hell than having his servants sit around sip tea in a medieval village. Therefore, the next few entries will be presented together to expedite the process of moving them along. You might also read about this decision in writer's notes since he has not been told yet.

****

I awoke in the night. I guess it was night. I really had no idea.

Night is the wrong word for Hell. It never really gets dark here. It's always that dusk, like just after the sun vanishes over the horizon.

I sat up in bed only to be greeted by a sharp pain shooting through my head. I'd never gotten a hangover from the booze here before, I guess because it had never actually been booze. Then it struck me. I was in bed, undressed, with the covers over me. "When did I go to bed?"

I looked around and, as expected, Calmet was nowhere to be found. He vanished at "night" to deal with his other duties, duties he wouldn't tell us about. Maybe he was talking to his masters about us. Who knew?

I pushed back the covers. The night was warm, and the window in the small room stood open. I paused, realizing that I had just, for a brief second, forgotten where I was. Marcus was snoring in the other bed beside me. He seemed to have undressed and gone to bed as well.

I walked into the living room, fully nude, hoping to find some water. The room was quiet and both of the couches empty. I'm not sure what I expected. I guess I thought I'd find Usis sleeping on one. Maybe he went home at night.

(Yes, the realization didn't escape me either that I had entered the living room nude and expected to find Usis on the couch. Oh well, good old Freud at work again.)

As I walked to the small kitchen I found a pitcher of water -- I really hoped it was water -- as well as the two mugs we had used at dinner. They were washed and upside down on a small towel. It was then that I heard the heavy breathing of someone sleeping somewhere off to the side of the cupboard. There, curled up on the floor in some wheat stalks, was our newest houseguest, in a ball sound asleep.

I looked at him there and couldn't help but agree with Calmet; Usis was handsome. Actually, he was fucking hot. He had a red strip of hair that ran down the center of his head. The hair to either side has been shaved, sorta in a Mohawk style but longer. It ran down his back and was bound about every six inches by little strips of leather. His skin was bronze and dark like his eyes. His face still carried the signs of his youth and his body verified it with the lines of his tight, muscular and well-defined limbs and torso.

Oh, did I forget to mention he also has a tail? At first I hadn't noticed either. It was only when he was preparing dinner last night that it had become evident. I tried to get a look at it, but since he was clothed it was hard to see how it was attached to his body. It appeared to be a continuation of his spine. I would have to inspect it closer in time, I guess. This is the first time I would encounter one of the other races here in Hell. I smiled to myself. That was a marginally plausible excuse to get a better look at his body.

I guessed we didn't continue to develop muscles in Hell so he had to have arrived with that wonderful torso. He lay sleeping shirtless, and from looking at his broad shoulders and large arms, in whatever world he was from he must have either been a laborer or a warrior. He said he had been a healer, but those muscles didn't belie the body of a medic. But for me it was that face, the few times I had seen him smile and the way it had lit up when he did... Yeah, he couldn't have been a warrior. He would have needed to wear a helmet because if he dared smile all signs of threat would have vanished.

I won't lie. I stood there a while watching Usis' chest rise and fall as he gently snored in his sleep. I then turned to go back to bed myself. I only made it halfway across the living room when I stopped and went back. I reached down and slowly placed my hand on his shoulder.

Usis startled awake. "Oh, I am sorry, sir. Did you need something? Please, please forgive me."

I smiled, shaking my head. "I don't need anything. I'm not sure how you were treated before but in this house, yes, you have duties, but you're still part of our household and will not be treated badly. I was thinking, there are two large beds in the other room. Calmet, if he ever returns, is sharing one with Marcus, so you can bunk with me."

As for you, my gentle readers – shut up!

"Bunk, my Lord?"

"Sleep."

"In your bed? I would not dream of imposing in such a way!"

"It's not an imposition."

"But I cannot."

"Will it help if I say I insist?" I asked.

"But..." Usis stopped, his cheeks turning slightly red. "That is very kind of you, my Lord, but really it is not necessary. I learned to make a bed like this when I used to sleep in the kitchens of my master's house."

"You slept in the kitchen?"

"Yes, my Lord. I was a slave of sorts when I was alive."

"Of sorts? I thought you were a healer."

"I was, my Lord, but I was a slave as well. As I said, ours was a warring world, and our people changed hands twice during my life. Since my parents were killed in the war, I was taken in as a slave and that is where I learned my craft."

"I might want to talk to you more about that in the future, if you don't mind, but here you serve us by choice. You're not a slave. No one I talked to when we arrived considered you a slave. They said you volunteered your services."

"I know, my Lord. It is completely my choice. It is what I always was and all I know. In this strange place, I find comfort in doing the things I did while I lived, if that makes any sense."

"More than you know. But as you said, you're here by choice and therefore a part of this house, which I'm in charge of. I couldn't live with myself if I allowed you to sleep here in a pile of straw. So come, there's more than enough room for the two of us in the bed."

I helped Usis up, and together we walked back to the bedroom. He protested the whole way. Upon entering, I pointed him to the side of the bed nearest the wall. After several more minutes of coxing, I finally talked him into bed, which he did gingerly. I lay beside him and rolled over, with my back to him, as he pulled the covers up. He shifted several times, making cooing noises as he luxuriated at the comfort of the bed. I guess it made sense. The bed wasn't that comfortable, but it had to be a marked improvement over straw on the kitchen floor.

As he settled down and rolled onto his side, I looked over to find Marcus awake but still. He smiled his approval, and then closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

I lay there for a while thinking about all that had happened of late as I felt the warmth of Usis as he unconsciously moved so our bare backs were touching. It hadn't taken long for him to fall deeply asleep. I too faded away, feeling his body's slight rises and falls as he gently snored.

Entry 40

I awoke the next morning to an empty bed with a house was full of the smells of the morning meal. Marcus was on the other side of the room nude in front of water basin, slowly bathing himself with a washcloth.

"The servant was up early and managed to fetch me water, well I think it's water, to wash up with. It feels so good to be clean."

"He's not a servant," I barked, still waking up.

"Of course he's not, sorry. What should I call him?"

"Usis. It's his name after all."

"So you do like him," said Marcus, looking at me over his shoulder with a smile.

"You've determined my feelings about someone based upon my use of their name. Well, Marcus -- woops how should I address you? I would hate for you to think I have fallen for you as well."

"Oh, shut up. I know you like him because it's written all over your face, and, well, um... if you look down, that didn't come up until this conversation did."

"Now it's your turn to shut up. He's a nice kid, and, yes, I know what you're thinking, and, yes, I do find him attractive," I said shifting to cover what was becoming a painful morning hard on.

"Any plans to act on it?" asked my traveling companion.

Luckily, before I had to answer, we both turned to a knock on the door followed by Usis sticking his head in. "The morning meal is ready, sirs."

"What did I tell you about calling us 'sirs'?" I smiled.

"Habit, sorry," he said as he vanished back through the door.

"Well, should I bring you food or are you going out in... well... all your glory? And for what it's worth, from a straight man, a well-sized bit of glory too."

"Straight men pointing out that they are 'straight men' while commenting on someone else's cock size sounds very un-straight to me."

"How did you phrase what I said earlier? Oh yeah... shut up," said Marcus as we both started laughing.

I reached over, pulling on my pants and shirt, as we started into the living room. Usis had a very impressive spread already set on the table, complete with three place settings. "Will... what should I call him?"

"Who?" I asked.

"The Demon."

"I would not call me 'the Demon'. I am sure of that," said Calmet, having just opened the front door. "You can call me my Lord."

"No. You will call him Calmet, which is his name. We do names around here," I corrected, smiling to Marcus.

Usis looked between him and me several times, clearly a bit confused as to what had been resolved, if anything.

Finally Calmet added, "Yes, that is fine. Learn to lighten up, my boy. Oh, food." Then, just as I was feeling things were under control, he added as he stuck a muffin in his mouth, "I did not know a cock could get that hard, does it hurt?"

I turned red. Usis turned red and bowed his head. Marcus and Calmet burst out laughing. Trying to ignore them I walked the incredibly long distance to the small kitchen, all three steps, and started to look through the cupboards. I noticed embarrassment had been replaced by a wrinkled brow as Usis stood there, wondering what I was doing.

"Have you eaten?" I turned and asked him, having found what I was looking for.

"No, my Lo... Keith."

"I thought not." I then motioned him to follow me with a finger. Once we were at the table, I set a fourth place, gesturing toward the chair. "Well, then as part of the house, please join us for breakfast." Both Calmet and Marcus again giggled which I ignored.

Usis walked to the chair and took a seat. It was nice to see he learned quickly. He had already discovered that arguing was going to accomplish little with me.

As I walked to my seat, I turned to Calmet. "I've had enough of the mystery. Where do you go in the evenings?"

"Funny you should ask. I have to talk to you about that. When would be a good time?"

"Now is as good as any."

"With everyone?"

"Is there some news that should be kept secret?" I asked.

"No. As you have already surmised, when I am gone at nights I meet with our 'handler', I guess that's what you could call him. He is the Hellspawn in charge of this little project. But since your impromptu visit with The Dark Lord the other day, he has taken a more active interest in how things are faring."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, remember me talking about us getting our asses kicked by The Dark Lord? Well our 'handler' has no ass as such anymore since The Dark Lord told him, 'This is the very thing you were to protect them from.'. So, I now not only meet with him daily, but once a month I must also report to HIM as well," said Calmet, looking at his plate.

"HIM... meaning... HIM. Why don't I think you are pleased about this? Isn't it an honor?"

"Yes, Our Lord and Master and..." He paused to look around to be sure we were listening. "Of course it is a great honor, do not get me wrong.

"But?"

"BUT... well, any time you meet with The Dark Lord, there is always the distinct possibility that... um... the meeting might not go very well for your health, so to speak."

"I understand fully. Even in my one meeting with Him, he didn't strike me as the overly magnanimous type," I added.

"That is a very diplomatic way of putting it, yes."

"So how does this affect us? You've been running off for weeks without once returning saying we needed to talk. Now, this morning, you have news?"

"Yes, two things actually. The length limits on the journal entries have been relaxed, first of all."

"Really... why? They just imposed those stupid things."

"Well, that leads me to the second reason. The Dark Lord fears... um... you know... that we have been..."

"Spit it out."

"He wants us to get our asses in gear and off this level."

"Really? Why?"

"You were brought here to write about Hell, not hang out on the most innocuous of the planes 'sipping tea'. His words."

"I find that very interesting."

"Why?" asked Calmet and Marcus almost in unison.

I smiled. "Because believe it or not, I agree and was going to make a similar observation."

"I find that very interesting. The Dark Lord will be relieved to learn that you agree with him I am sure."

"Yeah, I had a feeling he was eager for my approval. It was written in his eyes. See, like you, I too know sarcasm."

Calmet just smiled, eating his meal. After a while he continued, "So how long will you need to remain here?"

"I have no idea. Let's regroup tomorrow after I have had a day with the residents to see what I can learn. I was still planning on a couple of weeks. Is that too long?"

"No, not at all. The Dark Lord feels that the hundred years of just getting here is entirely too long."

"A HUNDRED YEARS?" Marcus and I barked as Usis turned pale.

Calmet seemed amused by our reaction. "Yes. Since you died, it has been a little over one hundred years."

Entry 41

The rest of breakfast was quiet as both Marcus and I tried to come to grips with how long we had been in Hell. Finally I was brought back into the moment by Usis asking if there was anything else we needed.

"If you have the time this morning, would you mind showing me around town? Marcus commented there's an inn. I think that would be a good place to conduct my interviews starting with this mayor... leader... or whatever you call him. The one we met when we arrived."

"Petrol? He is our elected leader, I guess you would call it. His primary function is to ensure that crops and wildlife obligations are fulfilled. All the residents have assigned tasks. If any of us come up short, we all suffer."

"Makes sense, very communal," I replied.

"When would you like to start?" he asked.

"I'm free now if you are." Turning to my other two companions I added, "You two are on your own today." Speaking directly to Calmet, I added, "Can you clean up these dishes? Also, stick around in case I run into any problems."

"Of course, my Lord. I will be here all day, seeing to your needs." He answered in almost a growl.

"I am at your service. Shall we?" Usis said, smiling as he opened the door.

As we walked out of our little cottage, any normality we thought we had achieved was again stripped away, replaced with the harshness of the town set against the bleak landscape of Hell's mountains. Even the memory of us making it to the village the night before... wait, had it been night? I didn't know. Since the light never changes here, it's hard to tell. Still, there was something about our arrival in town that seemed masked in darkness. As Usis and I walked, it kept picking at my mind. Then, like a punch to the face, the memories of the cave came back to me. The assault was so strong I had to stop and catch my breath.

"Are you all right, my Lord?" asked Usis, genuine concern laced through his voice.

"Yes, sorry, I was just startled by a thought."

"Yes, that does seem to happen," he paused, "Often here."

"Really? Explain," I said, curious.

"Well, this village is so, you know, normal feeling. It is not uncommon for those who are new here to forget where they are for a brief time. You will see them moving about their day, trying to settle in, and feeling like they have regained some sense of control over their lives. Then something will happen, and without warning they will be shocked back into reality, their lives again shattering. It does not take long to learn that you do not arrive in Hell only once, but over and over, as bits of your old self are stripped away."

We continued along the short path toward the town's center, and I allowed myself, for the first time, to truly look around. It amazed me how if you kept your eyes focused on just the buildings you could easily lead yourself to believe this was a scene out of an old medieval story. As was often the case, my eyes drifted out over the village toward those dark mountains where I found great flying beasts circling among the crags. I hadn't before now noticed their piercing screams. On occasion they would drop down to grab something off the ground between their sharp talons and carry its struggling, shadowed carcass back to the caves high in the cliffs. As my gaze continued up, there at tops of the bluffs was the great arched roof, the reminder that this was just a plane, a place within a much larger structure.

As we reached the main square, I was again surprised by the overall normality of the goings on. People were moving about their day, looking at the wares offered by vendors who had set up carts, greeting each other, vanishing through various doors, even at times laughing. It all seemed so very normal.

Across the plaza I saw the inn Marcus had told me about. I looked to Usis to verify the business as he started to lead us through the bustling crowd. "Let's have some tea so I can get a feel for the place. Then, if you don't mind, please run and get the leader while I work up a game plan."

All the residents greeted us and seemed nice, but it was when they walked away that I knew differently. There was always that extra glance back at me, not us, the look on their faces laced with a mixture of fear and curiosity. As I tried to meet their gaze, they would look away or act like they were looking at someone in the distance, even at times waving phantom greetings to people who weren't there.

We found a table with two chairs sitting on an entirely too typical little porch in front of the inn. I know I keep commenting on it, but I was really beginning to find the normality of this place almost obscene. What were these people thinking? What were they trying to convince themselves of?

The innkeeper came out and Usis ordered some tea which I quickly corrected, choosing instead whatever alcoholic beverage they had on hand.

I noticed the innkeeper looked to Usis, almost like he was seeking approval. The nod our new servant gave was almost imperceptible. Strange how I needed to think of him as a servant just now.

My temper flared as the waiter walked away, and as he did I was shocked at what I saw. The clothes he wore, which looked perfectly normal from the front, had been cut away in the back. His entire backside from his shoulders to just below his knees was a weeping mass of bruised and lacerated flesh.

"Why is his back like that?"

Usis turned to catch glimpse of what I'd seen just before the waiter walked into the inn. He solemnly turned his attention back to me and said, "He must have recently been to the Castle for judgement."

"How is that called a judgement? That is not being judged. That is being tortured."

"It is hard to say, my Lord. Every person's experience is different. But it is common to have villagers return with wounds and common emotional issues. Judgements can be very hard. I thought you were upset because he looked at me."

"Actually, before I saw his back, that was going to be my next question or rant. I hadn't yet decided. Let's go with question for now. I will save the rant if I don't like your answer. I will deal with the Castle issues on a person by person basis during my interviews."

Usis, looking a bit shy, replied, "Well, my Lord, I have been here for some time. You arrived yesterday in the company of a Demon. The entire village fears you have brought torments with you. As you see, that is often no small thing. Do you blame them for being afraid?"

"It is more than fear, it is insolence." Usis wrinkled his brow. "Sorry, an arrogance, an aloofness.

"Pride often hides fear under the costume of arrogance, does it not, my Lord? I mean, you have made it clear many times that I am safe while you are here but still I fall back on 'my Lord', not because I do not remember what you have told me as much as it is my small shield for myself. You seem like a nice, caring person but in Hell looks are deceiving."

I looked at him for a long time as the waiter returned with a bottle and two glasses, insisting on pouring our first drink. I ordered another bottle immediately. Finally I shook my head. "I can understand that, and if it makes you feel safer call me whatever you need to. But that makes me wonder if it affects your standing in the village to be seen with me?"

"I do not think so, my Lord. You are doing the interviews here, are you not?"

"Yes."

"Then they are going to see lots of people sitting where I am, talking to you. Plus, to be completely honest, what are they going to do? Acts of violence, open displays of anger or hostility can cause your soul to be sent for judging. Forgive me for saying it this way, I have enjoyed my time with you but that does not change the fact that I was assigned to you. They cannot hold against me what I was asked by the community to do."

"Well, you get word to me through anyone you can if there are ramifications. I will see to it that all of Hell comes back here to torture whomever makes your life hard for helping us."

"Please do not, my Lord. I have heard rumors of times in the past when there has been great civil unrest between the residents here."

"Really? What has happened then? Do they send someone in to negotiate or what?"

"No, my Lord. They just empty the place and send everyone down. As I understand it, this is still The Dark Lord's domain. He can do what he wants."

"Wow. I'm starting to see why everyone is so skittish."

"Oh, yes. We have not had a Demon visitor in years. I mean, some have passed through but never in residence. The village is in a controlled panic." He fell silent and for a while just stared at his drink. Finally in what I think was an attempt to change the subject, he looked up and asked a question that on the surface sounded completely understandable but still struck me as very odd. "You have met Lucifer?"

"Yes, he came to us a few days ago."

"What is he like?"

"How do I explain someone like that? He's everything you have ever imagined. Did you have a religious system on your world?"

"Oh yes, my... Keith. Ours was far more complicated than most. We had dozens of gods."

"Some of our cultures did as well. Did any of them have a deity of like lust or forbidden desire?"

"Yes. He was one of my favorite deities, to be honest with you. He was also one of the most misunderstood. They taught embracing your passions and desires but then required their followers to perform penance afterward. It was a very risk/reward based belief. Does that make any sense?"

"Oh yes, and more so in the context of your question about Lucifer. When he came to us, he carried -- yes carried, because I think it was intentional -- the beauty of an Angel while in his eyes was the intensity of The Dark Lord. Simply put, he's an orgasm during a rape. There's pleasure in his beauty but a shame in finding him that way."

"Exactly, Keith. That is what Ingtos was like. I never worshiped him because I did not want to see shame in my actions." We sat quietly for a long time, both emptying our glasses. Finally he added, "Whose?"

"Whose what?"

"Orgasm."

"I really think, with him, that's for you to decide." Changing the subject back, I asked, "Both you and Calmet hinted at torments. What kind?"

"There are two, the first being more of a punishment. Every so often the town -- no, really the whole level -- is overrun with a swarm of biting flies. They just appear out of nowhere and fill the city, tearing at our flesh and destroying anything that is left in the open. Then, just as suddenly, they are gone. There is no schedule, and from what we can tell no reason to trigger it."

"And the second?" I asked, biting a little too hard on my glass.

"The Castle. We are taken there randomly but regularly where we are put through trials and then re-judged. They know our weaknesses so they tempt us to see if we will submit."

"And if you do?"

"If it tips the balance of what brought us here, we are taken away."

"That's the balance you mentioned yesterday?"

"Yes, my... Keith. If I act too good or too badly, it could tip the scales, causing my judgment to swing a different way. Even good acts seem to have the ability to damn you here. I have never understood quite how that works. My desires for the flesh have at times almost sentenced me to being sent down."

"Really? Desires of the flesh, as in sex?"

Usis smiled. "That is part of it, I guess. Let us just say I did not mind the lash of my master's whip as much as they would have hoped."

In shock, I now saw Usis in a new light. In that one sentence, the visage of an innocent, scared young man had fallen away like the dust on a long undisturbed table. "There's more to you than I thought."

Usis frowned and looked down at his glass. "My Lord, I am in Hell. I might be in the most innocent of the planes, but I am still in Hell. And the longer I am here, the more I understand why they designed a plane like this in the first place."

"And that is?"

"We are all flawed creatures. Given enough time, we will succumb to our baser instincts. I have seen so many creatures from so many different creations come and go from this place. I also know that my time here is limited, and I fear there is little I can do to change that."

"Why can't you just maintain, like you said?"

"With each visit, it grows harder. With each visit to the castle, the enticements are fine-tuned. I feel my resolve slipping..."

Entry 42

Finally I looked over to Usis. "I want to meet with some of the residents. How hard is that going to be to arrange?"

"None at all, my... Keith. Your escort made it very clear to us yesterday that we were to make ourselves available. Most assume this is just a new form of judgment sent to trick us."

"You don't believe that, do you?" I asked.

"My Lord, I have been in this place for a very long time. I do not know what to believe. I have learned it is best just to let things happen and deal with it then."

"I'm not in the service of The Dark Lord." I paused. "Well, not as such."

"What does that mean, my Lord?"

"I've been saved from my torments because they want the creations to learn about the real Hell, and I've been chosen to write it." I then told him about the Journal and what had occurred since my arrival.

Usis sat quietly, never taking his eyes off me, sipping his drink. Finally, as if waking from a dream, he said, "I can arrange for you to speak to whomever you would like. When would you like to start?"

"Now, and with the leader. Is he the oldest resident?"

"No, my Lord. That would be Plitak. He lives in one of the secluded houses off by the cliffs."

"OK, well, I'll talk to the leader first and then this Plitak person later."

"Um... I think you might be closer to accurate if you called Plitak a creature. He is not from one of the more common creations as I understand it."

"Really? What does he look like?"

"I do not know, my Lord. I have personally never seen him."

"Does he suffer the same bugs and trips to the Castle?"

"I assume he does, but I have never seen him taken away which is not uncommon. They come and take us without warning anytime they chose."

We finished our drinks, and Usis ran off to fetch the leader. Over the next several hours I interviewed dozens of people. As time went on, the interviews grew shorter as I started to discover all the stories were basically the same. I could see why Lucifer had no interest in me remaining here for long. There was a story here, but it wasn't the story I was tasked to write. I was starting to learn there was something much bigger going on behind the scenes, but then we're talking about Hell and The Host. Why should that surprise me?

As far as the residents, most had chosen a path of detachment, or worse yet, noncommittal. They had all been decent people, more than decent actually, but not only had they not chosen a side, they had never cared to. In many ways, they were like I was while living except they were righteous.

The ones I talked to had either practiced some form of nature study such as witchcraft or science, or had instead remained strangely free of any belief. I could understand the lack of faith in a superior power, but what surprised me was the result of their decisions. Some were pagans as benign as our Wiccan religion while others had been from worlds which had actually had magic. They all did what they did by using the powers that moved through Creation. But instead of finding its source in the divine, they chose to find it in themselves or the planet they came from.

Don't get me wrong. In many ways they valued life more than those who believed it was only a layover before moving on. In thinking their existence was finite, they had tended to live their "one" life more fully. Nothing had a "reason" for happening, it just happened. They had done all they did in life only in service of just being good people.

So often during my life I had been asked, "If you don't believe in God, what makes you moral? Keeps you from, like, murdering?" To me, this had always been the height of stupidity. Did those who believed in an afterlife really only do what was right or good out of fear of damnation? Didn't they understand, if this is how they really felt, they had already damned themselves? They weren't now, nor would they ever be, good people. Even I knew The Father didn't want them to act on the best of intentions because they felt they had to. It should have been instinctual.

I was starting to see that these people, the ones here on this level of Hell, had already been in the service of The Father. They'd just never acknowledged it. Wasn't that what He had always wanted? Was He really so petty as to need to be given credit?

Lastly, once they got here and discovered they'd been wrong, that there was a life after death, they, like Usis, preferred this existence to that which they could've had if they'd been allowed into The Eternal City. And, to be honest, that was a decision I could fully understand.

But now I was curious. This level has taught me one thing. There is something more. Something's missing in this story. Why had 33% of all of The Host left The Holy City with Lucifer? Why did The Father vanish? Why did such an all-powerful creature even allow The Fallen to walk away and, moreover, create such a place as this to live out eternity?

I needed to get underway. There's was a story here, though it might not be the one Hell was wanting told.

Entry 43

I made it back to the cottage very late that evening. As far as I was concerned, I was finished with this plane. The only other conversation I felt I should have was with this Plitak creature, but that was more out of curiosity and most certainly could wait for another day. I had to think, and a good couple of bottles of whatever it was they distilled here was going to help me accomplish that. I was starting to feel less like of a storyteller and more like an investigative reporter. There was something just under the surface I couldn't see; the bits weren't adding up.

When I got back, the others had already eaten but Usis had kept food warm for me. He and Marcus tried at small talk, but I was still lost in the conversations from earlier, pecking away furiously on my little laptop beast, not writing just making notes. This story, the one you are reading now, needed to be pulled together first. I am glad I decided to wait; the actual stories weren't worth telling. These people were dead; they needed to stay that way.

Once they had both realized I wasn't in a talkative mood, Usis left to pick up supplies for the house. Marcus slunk off to the bar after again starting his relentless drone about how this place was really unsettling him. His song and dance was getting very old. Calmet, of course, was already gone but strangely had left word that he would be here when I awoke if I wanted to talk or had any questions. That hadn't struck me strange until the following morning. But I'm getting ahead of myself...

I drank quite a lot that evening, and by the time I stumbled to bed neither Marcus or Usis had returned. I more or less passed out and woke the following morning with a pretty severe headache.

When I finally manage to open my eyes, even the normal dusk of Hell seemed bright. I looked over to find that Marcus' bed hadn't been slept in. I got up, not bothering to dress, and walked into the main room to find that Marcus wasn't in there either, but Usis was also absent and breakfast hadn't been prepared. It was when I saw Calmet sitting quietly in a chair by the fireplace that it hit me something was wrong.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"You might want to look outside. Did the residents you talked to yesterday tell you about the swarm?"

I ran to the window. Outside a wild dust storm was blowing through the village, hiding the buildings in a thick swirling cloud. It was only when I looked closer that I realized this storm wasn't dust but billions of tiny flies. They were so thick I could barely see a foot outside the window.

Just as I started to turn back to Calmet, a shape moved within the cloud. My hand came to my mouth as I realized it was one of the residents. The person stumbled close enough that I could see hundreds of the little insects were tearing at their flesh. The person continued to move across my field of view until finally succumbing to the onslaught, collapsing to the ground screaming.

I turned in horror to Calmet. "Where are Marcus and Usis?" I demanded.

"Marcus was at the inn when it struck. He should be fine either way as the insects will not attack him. As for Usis, he was taken to the Castle this morning."

"Why...?"

"It was time for him to be judged."

"WHAT? How long does that take? When will we know the result? Screw that. Take me there now!"

"Now? Do you not see what is happening outside?"

"You just said Marcus was safe. That leads me to believe that you and I are even more so. Let me get dressed."

"Keith..."

I turned to Calmet with a look of warning. "You either take me or I'm walking out to the center, jumping in that God-damned hole falling all the way to the "Great Plain" as you call it and personally having a little chat with this Dark Lord myself. Maybe he can explain how all this just happens to happen while I am here. How the person under my protection just happens to come up for Judgement as well. So the questions you need to ask yourself, my little half pint demon, is do you want to face the flies or the Lord of Flies once I barge in on him?"

"Wow, so those balls do work. A word of advice I would limit your use of that particular curse here, little man," answered Calmet. "Come..."

I went back into the bedroom and quickly threw on my clothes. When I made it back out without a word, Calmet walked over as the door exploded outwards, taking the entire front of the cottage with it. Almost immediately the room was engulfed in a swarm of biting insects. They flew around us, but never once did they turn their attentions our way.

We walked out into the conflagration. "How long does this last?" I yelled to Calmet over the deafening buzz.

"A little while, usually not long. They are just here to punish, not destroy."

I wasn't sure what Calmet considered punishment, but the intensity of the scene just outside our door was overpowering. I was learning to listen, to take in the words Calmet used. They were becoming my new dictionary, one of horror and Hell.

Lying on the ground all around us were the creatures that lived in this village, writhing and thrashing in agony all covered in flies that were nipping little bits of their flesh away. The only sound louder than the swarming horde was the wails of pain permeating the entire village. From all directions came the cries of those who were being tormented. So this was Calmet's definition of punishment? Was I ready to see torture?

Almost as if the asking had dismissed them, the swarm started to move away. Together, like a single organism, they headed out of town, leaving carnage in their wake.

Those residents sprawled across the main plaza started to pick themselves up. Most had assumed a defensive position with their arms wrapped around their head while burying their faces in the ground. Their backs and clothing were a bloody, weeping mess. Some, those who hadn't gotten down in time, had the entire sides of their faces chewed almost to pulp. On several people you could actually see bits of bone where swarms of flies had come together to feed on the fresh meat.

It was now I could tell the newest residents among them, the realization on their face that for the rest of eternity, without warning, this was their future. All around the plaza bloodied people were sitting down, their faces buried in their hands, weeping. Others were already up, regardless of their injuries, going about the task of pulling the village back together. These had to be the older residents.

Yesterday these townspeople had been pretending to lead normal lives, trying to carry themselves with dignity, many looking over their shoulder as we passed, judging us. Today they were writhing on the ground with hundreds if not thousands of bloody, weeping wounds.

"Will these wounds heal?" I asked Calmet.

"Yes, over the next few days, they will recover. The insects often leave small stingers behind, and those leave a toxin which is very irritating to the skin."

"So what you're saying is having them attacked by biting flies wasn't enough? You had to torture them as well?"

"Harass them, yes. It is part of their penance."

As we walked across the square, I tried to help people up as we went but quickly abandoned that idea. They shrugged off my assistance and gave both me and mainly Calmet vicious looks as they marched off.

"They see you as part of us," he said.

"Well, I guess I am. Let's get going. If they don't want my help and compassion, then the least they can do is stay out of my face so I don't have to see their suffering," I replied as I marched off toward the Castle.

Just as we were about to leave the town, Marcus came bursting around the corner screaming, "You have to make this stop! This is horrible. What does he think he's doing?"

"He?"

"The fucking Devil," replied Marcus.

For the second, all time froze. There was complete silence; no one moved except the three of us.

Calmet slowly turned with that vicious look in his eye. "Look around you. Time has stopped. Do you know what that means? You have gotten his attention. I would suggest you never ever use that tone when speaking about The Dark Lord again." He turned and started toward the Castle as time began to move again. The screams returned. Over his shoulder he added to me, "He is your responsibility. You will be held responsible for his actions as well. Control your minion."

Marcus' face went through several shades of red as his anger grew, then I met his eyes as he turned to me. I was already not in the mood. "SHUT UP, Marcus. This is Hell, not a game. You are pissing off the wrong fucking deities. Stay to help these people, go down to the lake take a swim, I don't care, just shut up and get out of my face. I have business to attend to." Without giving him a chance to reply, I marched off after Calmet.

We turned just in time to see a whole platoon of Demons marching into the town. At first we thought they were there for Marcus until they started grabbing people and physically dragging them toward the Castle.

"What's happening?" I asked, turning in shock to Calmet.

He smiled. "You yourself said it. Their treatment of you during your short stay has pushed the ones you see being taken away over the edge of what is allowed. They will now be re-judged and sent down to the levels of despair."

"All because they treated me badly?" I wasn't sure I cared.

"Not only that. If you had done your job, you should have noticed--" said Calmet before I cut him off.

"Done my job? DONE MY JOB? You mean how many of them had lived decent lives, but in their hearts carried a contempt or detachment for their fellow man. DONE MY JOB," I barked. "How they were decent people more because it was pushed upon them, because there was a self-interest in doing it... Is this the fucking part of DONE MY JOB you're referring to?" I was furious, standing in the middle of the field screaming at Calmet.

After I had finished my tirade, he raised an eyebrow. "I would suggest you include those observations in your entries. Not just the shit about being 'done with this level'. You might have 'done your job'. Now learn how to report it. That is why you are here."

I stood fuming, watching him walk away. After he was a good distance off and I had calmed down a bit, I followed him to the Castle. We would deal with this again soon.

Entry 44

The Castle sat a distance from the town across a thick field of grains. It rose against the mountain like a great tumor at its base. Since it was made of the same stone, you had to look close to really see it. The most distinguishing feature was at the top of a series of steps. In its face were many doors. Nothing was visible beyond the spikes of the raised gates. They loomed there like a row of vicious teeth in a waiting mouth, hungry for its next meal.

"Why are there so many doors?" I asked Calmet.

"One for each category of sin."

"Each sin?"

"Yes. When a soul is called for review, they enter the door that most suits the sins they have committed."

"Committed or have a weakness for?"

"My dear man, they are often one in the same. But yes, it tends to be the ones they are most likely to commit. To stay here in Hell is in many ways to earn it. Souls have a tendency to slide over time."

"Are you sure it's the soul, or is it the nature of Hell itself to find your weakness and seduce you until you finally give in to your desire and then punish you for taking what was offered?"

Calmet stopped and looked at me for a moment. "Could you make sure to write that just as you said it? I think we might have a new slogan."

I just shook my head and continued toward the massive castle.

"So how do you want to do this?" asked my guide.

"What do you mean?"

"I am not sure why you wanted to be here now, but we were coming eventually. Do you want to just walk in or observe unnoticed for a bit? That boy of yours will be getting judged. Are you not just a little bit curious?" he added, raising an eyebrow.

"See, just as I said. Find a weakness, offer the weakness and then watch as they wiggle at the end of the rope, having learned too late they should have bypassed the weakness. You're evil, you know that?"

"Who? Little ol' me? Strangely I did not hear a 'No' from you, and your bitterness sounds like you are more angry at yourself about that."

"Shut up and wave your arms, or twitch your nose, or whatever it is you need to do to keep us from being seen."

"Cute. We are already hidden. After your minion's outburst, I chose to hide us. They should not have even seen us leave the village."

"Marcus is most certainly not my 'minion'," I corrected.

"Call him what you want. I will agree minion is the wrong word. Dependent is more accurate."

I followed Calmet through the first door. Before entering, I had no idea what sin this entrance represented, but all too soon it became clear. I whispered to Calmet, "Lust?"

"Yes, and you do not have to whisper. No one will hear us."

"So Usis' sin is lust?"

The corners of Calmet's lips turned upward as he smiled. "Strange you do not seem disappointed. Yes, it is his weakness. But not just sex, as such."

"As such?"

"Come, let me take you up to the balcony. You will get a good view from there."

Calmet led me around the corner into a large hall with roughly carved stairs off to each side. The inside of the Castle, like its exterior, was rough. The only decorations were occasional tapestries depicting different, highly erotic scenes. "Nice artwork," I said.

"Each part of the Castle has works representing its purpose."

"But lust can be so much more than sex I thought."

"Oh, is sex what you see? Interesting."

"What do you mean?"

"We are coming to spy upon Usis, and you see sex images. Is it wrong to find that interesting?"

"I must be missing something. What are you telling me?"

"The walls, my dear boy, are blank. The art you see is put there by your intentions within the space. Thus you see sex. As you said, lust is many things to many people. This part of the Castle shows them what they most desire."

"So you can't see the tapestries?" I asked, confused.

"No, but I can change that." Calmet's head tilted a bit and then his smile grew. "Now I can see what you see, and you are a naughty boy." I couldn't see my face but could easily tell you the number of shades it passed through in that instant. "This way, if you need to take off those pants to make room, I will understand."

At the top of the stairs, we found a large sitting area full of chairs and tables. There was, of course, erotica on the walls. "Is there a way to get rid of these images?" I asked.

"Why? Can you not concentrate? Hey, it is not our fault. If you lust for cute puppies, the pictures will change. I cannot help it if tight asses are your thing. I have to ask, why stomachs?" Calmet smiled.

"Are you kidding? A smooth, well-formed set of abs is a thing to behold."

"And you wonder why these images are here?" Calmet smirked. He then pointed to the right where an opening led onto a large balcony.

When we reached the railing, I looked down to discover a series of rooms, all with their ceilings missing. It was like looking down on a three dimensional blueprint. "Why are they missing their roofs? Can the occupants not see up?" I asked.

"You need to expand your imagination. Are you sure you were a fiction writer? They see a ceiling, but from our side there are none. Clever, huh?"

"Sneaky, underhanded, dishonest, but if you want to go with 'clever', I guess we can use that," I answered as I rolled my eyes.

Calmet just grinned real big.

"So what am I seeing?" I asked.

"Well, if you will notice, your little servant is sitting in the room there." Calmet pointed to a room off to the right of the door I assumed was used to enter the little complex.

"Yes. So what's going to happen? Fill me in so I know what to expect. As you might have guessed, I have a fondness for Usis, and if things are going to get ugly I need to know in advance."

"It is nothing like that. Take into consideration what sin he is being judged for. Whatever happens to him is by his choice. Here we are more subtle. To be honest, he will sit there until something pops into his mind. It might take a minute. It might take hours or even days. But as you have already noticed, he is, as you did, seeing stimuli, like the art on the walls. The entire purpose of that feature is to spur thoughts and emotions within the soul's mind. Once he focuses on something, it will playout as far as he lets it."

After a few minutes Calmet walked back into the other room and returned, pulling two chairs up. "It appears your boy down there is in no hurry, and my feet are starting to hurt."

"Your feet hurt? You have to be the wimpiest Demon I'll ever meet."

"You try hooves for a while and see how it feels. Oh wait..." Calmet pointed.

In the room on the other side of the one Usis occupied a cloud was beginning to appear. "What's happening?"

"It seems his mind is wandering, and the room has picked up on a thread it can work with. The Castle is starting to pull together the pieces of his trial."

As we watched, the room he was in started to shift. As it slowly came into focus I recognized it. It was our cottage. The cloud was now moving toward the door. Slowly it too had begun taking shape, that of a human form. Over the next few minutes, it continued to gel and come into focus. Usis still sat motionless in the room that resembled our own. He was oblivious to us watching or of the developing creature taking shape beside him.

We both watched in rapt fascination. There was something strangely familiar about the creature forming below us. The form reached out and opened the door. For just a second it passed from view as it went under the door frame. When it appeared in the room with Usis, Calmet burst out laughing, literally doubling over hysterical. That's when I realized what was happening. Not only was Usis dreaming up a lustful thought, but the specter taking shape from his thoughts was ME...

"What the fuck!" I blurted out.

Through his laughter, Calmet said in gasps, "It appears you are the object of his lust. So the real you will get the distinct honor of watching the stylized version of you Usis has dreamed up do who knows what to, or with, him. Oh, this is better than I could have ever hoped."

"NO! I can't watch this!" I was almost screaming.

"All you have to do is turn away, and you will see nothing. There are seats right over there." He pointed off in the direction of the stairs. "BUT I am not moving. So wait or watch, it is up to you." said Calmet, barely able to restrain himself from further hysteria. "I will point out, maybe your sin is arrogance. He could just want to talk." He again lost himself in laughter, adding finally, "Oh, I really should ask The Dark Lord to join us down here for this. He would love it."

"Are you kidding?" I was wide-eyed now.

We both turned as we heard the sound of Usis taking a startled breath in. There, down below, now stood a VERY STYLIZED version of me, nude, before a smiling Usis.

"My, my, he does have a LARGE imagination," said Calmet. Then, looking down to my crotch, he added, "Oh, that is right, I do remember breakfast the other day. You have been holding out on us."

"Oh, shut up," I said, red faced, shocked and flattered all at the same time. Usis had seriously augmented my... um... well, if you don't know, you should probably stop reading this and go to your local bible study.

I glanced back at Calmet who was now almost doubled over on the ground with laughter.

"This is so wrong, and you are enjoying it way too much."

Calmet motioned with his eyes. "Oh, I think I have not begun to enjoy this. I suggest you see what you are doing down there. Do you actually kiss that well? Come on, give me a little kiss. I need a reference."

I shook my head, disgusted with him, and turned back. Sure enough, Usis and his dream me were wrapped in each other's arms, our lips locked. I felt the parts of me which had recently been the center of so much attention slowly began to rise, something mimicked by my doppelganger. I continued to blush deeply from the neck up. Calmet laughed harder.

We... I mean they continued to kiss. Each moment their embrace grew deeper, more intense. Slowly, the other me reached down and lifted Usis' shirt over his head. His smooth skin was damp with sweat. It was obvious that he wanted this. His body was already moving in rhythm with mine... ours... theirs... Damn.

His pants were clearly becoming uncomfortable. Being the gentleman my copy was, he dropped to his knees, undoing the tight buttons on the front of Usis' pants. As they slid down his muscular legs, his cock sprang forth, its hardness bounding forward to find my doppelganger's waiting lips.

Calmet uttered, "Oh my."

I said as clinically as I could, "I was curious how his tail attached."

Calmet turned to me, raising his eye brow. "To his ass or to your face?" and burst out in renewed laughter.

Usis had an amazing cock. It was the perfect length and nicely round, growing at the tip which was partially veiled by his foreskin. From this distance, I couldn't be sure if he was moist until the other me's tongue slowly licked a drop from the tip of the shaft. My mouth fell as my double started to slowly circle the tip of Usis' uncut cock with his wet tongue, working both the outside and in of the delicate foreskin. Then, with no warning, he took just the head into his mouth, tightened his lips firmly around the shaft and slid slowly forward. His face moved toward Usis' moist abdomen as the young man's cock slowly vanished into my doppelganger's mouth until finally he could go no farther, his face buried in the dark red fur of Usis' pubic hair.

Usis threw back his head and gasped as the other me started to slowly work his perfect shaft. It was then I noticed Calmet was no longer laughing; he had fallen silent. When I looked, his attention was fully absorbed in what was going on below, and the view appeared to be having an expected effect on him as well.

I was starting to feel like yelling for my double to reach around and grab that young man's firm butt. And just like it had read my mind, both of his hands came around and gripped Usis' ass, pulling him forward hard, causing his cock to vanish completely as his abdomen slammed into my double's face.

I was starting to think I was going to need to do something about my own rising passion when something strange happened. Usis straightened up, as if he had suddenly seen or heard something that upset him. He pushed the other me back. While holding my doppelganger at a distance with his arm, he looked it up and down. Then he said in a loud clear voice, "I order you to leave. I will not allow this to continue." And in the blink of an eye, the doppelganger was gone.

It was like my internet had just gone out when I was back home. My cock in my hand, my body rigid ready to cum, and BAM the image freezes. OH MY FUCKING GAWD!

Turning to Calmet, I rasped, "What just happened?"

"He refused his sin."

"Well, not completely... but that's good right?"

"He should be allowed to stay here, yes, unless..." Calmet paused, then added, "We should get back to town. It would be unseemly for us to bump into him returning... unless..."

"Oh, stop it with the 'unlesses'. And let's get going," I said, heading toward the stairs.

We walked in silence through the field, both of us adjusting our pants. Well, I was adjusting mine. Calmet wore a tunic which right now had a huge Demon cock still standing at full attention, leading our way.

I finally couldn't take it anymore. "Can you put that thing away?" I pointed to his cock. I paused then asked, "That seemed too simple. Why was the test so easy?"

"Hey, once this boy rises, it has to follow the laws of nature. You are damned lucky I have been ordered not to touch you, or you would be face down in this field and I would be smiling. As for the trial, it was not easy. You only saw what was available to our vision. You did not have access to what he was imagining."

"You say that like you did."

"That is because I did," said Calmet.

"And..."

"And what? Do you want to know? Is this personal or as a reporter?"

"Both, to be honest."

"Well then, in the beginning when he was sitting there, he was imagining he was back at the cottage preparing us dinner and spending an evening with you and Marcus. When the other you started to form, it was when you guys went to bed. The phantom Marcus had excused himself to the inn. You both were starting your love-making when Usis realized it was part of the test and ended it."

"And just like that, it was over."

"There is more to it than that. I know what he was thinking the whole time, and I can promise you he was torn between doing what he wanted and the possible ramifications of such an act. It was several minutes after he had realized this was the test that he chose to stop. He actually had decided for a brief few moments that he did not care what happened as long as he could have the fantasy of being with you fulfilled."

Calmet stopped and turned to find me standing frozen in shock in the center of the field. We looked at each other for a long time, then he started back to town. "For some strange reason, I think his fantasy will be fulfilled anyway."

I caught up with him then said, "You have to leave tonight, right?"

Calmet smiled. "Yes, as usual. I will make sure Marcus leaves as well."

"Why would you do this?" I asked.

"This is Hell, my friend. You will see many horrors during your journeys. In the hope of fostering our friendship and trust, I will tell you now to find the joys where you can. They will be few and far between."

Together we walked into the village. They were still cleaning up from the attack earlier in the day. We were again met with hostile looks, but I didn't care. My mind was far away, thinking of things that hadn't yet come to pass. Some were pleasurable while others were starting to bloom with a far less palatable fruit.

Entry 45

When we made it back to the cottage, Usis hadn't yet returned. Calmet had said it would take a while since he would need to stay to hear his judgment.

Marcus was in the living room when we entered the completely repaired house. I looked and Calmet shrugged, I let it go. Home repair was at the very bottom of my list of curiosities right now. "I can't believe you have nothing to say about what happened here today," Marcus demanded before I had even made it fully though the door. Then, turning to Calmet, he started to continue but the look in our guide's eyes silenced him.

"Marcus, you will need to absent from here tonight. I don't know where you've been keeping yourself in the evenings, but tonight you need to keep yourself there once more," I said as I walked past him into the bedroom.

"WHAT? I'm being ordered out of the HOUSE? WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?"

"Yes, you are, and I'm the only person that's keeping you from suffering the endless litany of torments your sins have earned you. So I would suggest you take that tone down a bit."

"Or what?" he challenged me.

It was then that Calmet stepped in. "This is getting out of hand. Here is how it is going to be. Marcus, you are leaving this house right now, and you are going someplace, any place, to cool down. Keith is here to do a job, and you are just along for the ride. A ride which can end quite abruptly if the need arises. So get what you need and go."

Marcus's mouth opened then snapped shut, choosing to keep quiet due to the look on Calmet's face. He stormed into the other room, picked up a couple of things and made a show of marching though the living room and out the front door, slamming it behind him.

"You will need to deal with him," said Calmet, pouring us both a drink.

"Me?"

"You decided to bring him. You are responsible for anyone you choose to accompany us on this little adventure."

"I know, but I'm not sure what to do. He's getting worse and, to be honest with you, I don't know how to handle it."

If Calmet had anything else to say, he didn't get the opportunity, for we were interrupted by a knock on the door. I answered it to find Lucifer himself standing there at the entrance to our little cottage. It was clearly him, but he was very toned down this time.

I stepped aside as He walked into the room. Calmet turned, asking who it was, and then spit wine all over the kitchen area, startled as his eyes met his Master's.

"My Lord," he said as he dropped to his knees.

"Wasting wine is a sin. Am I correct in assuming you were just leaving? I need a word with my writer," said The Dark Lord in such a pleasant tone that the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. His comment about wine so deadpan I couldn't be sure if he was actually joking or not.

"Oh yyyyess, My Lord," answered Calmet. He headed for the door, never rising out of his bow.

Trying to play it cool, I turned to Lucifer. "Would you like a drink?"

My attempt as casualness didn't go unnoticed as The Dark Lord smiled and said, "Yes, please, but not that stuff. Use the wine I brought."

"You brought wine?"

Lucifer pointed to two dusty bottles sitting on the counter where no bottles had previously been. As I picked up the first one I noticed it had already been uncorked. The Dark Lord said, "They needed to breathe."

Looking at him, then at the bottles, then back at him, I said with a frightened look, "I really hope that's a figure of speech."

"This time it is, yes." Lucifer smiled.

Here is where I must do something I haven't yet done to you, my dear readers. I must reserve the conversation between The Dark Lord and myself until a later entry. Based upon our discussion, several things came to a head before we left the first level of Hell. I feel it would be best to tell things in the order that they happened rather than baffle you with this one conversation, as it confused me at the time. Please forgive me, but I think you will understand soon enough.

Entry 46

The Dark Lord had only been gone for a little while when Usis came walking through the front door. I had always liked to think of myself as calm and collected, but as soon as our eyes met, my cock bound to life and I had to cross my legs to hide my... um... growing issues.

"Hello, my Lord. I hope you will forgive me for being absent this morning, but I was taken to be judged today."

"Yes, Calmet told me." It was vague but not actually a lie. He had, after all, told me. "I gather things went well?"

"Ultimately. I almost succumbed to the temptations but was in the end able to prove myself worthy to remain here."

I'm such a juvenile. I swear I heard "sir cum" instead of succumb. All I could muster in response was, "That's nice."

"Have you eaten? I am sorry I did not get breakfast for you before I left. Are you hungry? I could prepare something. Resources will be a bit limited for the next few days, what with the swarm and all this morning. I hope you were not out in it."

"We are immune," I told him.

"Oh," responded Usis in what sounded to me like masked disapproval. "Are the others here, my lord?"

"No. Marcus and Calmet will be out all evening. I was actually hoping you and I could spend some time together. Have dinner and talk. If that's alright with you?"

Usis visibly straightened as I said this. The entire temperature of the room changed into something heated. "I would like that, very much. I can tell you of my history then, if you are still interested."

"Oh, I'm very interested, but not tonight. I want this evening to be more about relaxing. We both have been through a lot, and I enjoy your company." I know, just shoot me. It sounds as lame now as it did when I said it.

"That would be nice. I can cook us a roast and some vegetables. That is what you call them, right? I am trying to learn your words."

"Yes, that's what they're called. I thought you said things would be scarce?"

Usis smiled. "What kind of servant would I be if I did not put some things back in case of an emergency? To be honest, now I am doubly glad I did, for tonight they can serve the dual purpose of being our savior during a famine as well as a private dinner between us."

I smiled. I really had nothing else I could do. He was sweet, and I could feel myself falling for him. Just knowing that made some of the decisions from earlier in the day a bit easier, though they still filled me with dread. How could you grow close to someone in Hell and hope for it to be anything but a trustee of pain?

I covered my feelings by asking, "Do you need to rest for a bit before our evening? I can never tell what time it is, so I have no idea if it is morning or night."

"If you do not mind, a short rest would be helpful. I was taken early and feel a bit drained from the trials."

"Not at all. You go in and lay down, and we can fix dinner together when you awake." As I focused on 'how drained he was', I mentally slapped myself in the back of the head.

He smiled and headed into the bedroom. I couldn't help but be proud of myself. Already when he thought of sleeping, I no longer needed to convince him that our bed was in fact OURS. He accepted that now and went without question.

Entry 47

Usis slept for several hours. When he awoke, his growing comfort with me was constantly demonstrated. When he came into the living room he was nude. I was really glad he was beginning to feel at ease with me. Due to events earlier in the day, it also rekindled fires I had hoped I was in control of.

I prepared tea, and together we sat talking while he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. It was during our conversation that I found out, like myself, Usis hated clothing and preferred when possible to remain nude. That was fine with me. I mean really fine with me...

After we had finished our tea, he looked out the window, announcing, "It is early evening. Would you like me to begin your dinner?"

"Our dinner," I corrected.

"Yes, our dinner," he said shyly.

"How do you know it's early evening?"

"The light does change slightly, but it is really difficult to notice. I look toward the cliffs. If the takieac birds are circling, it is evening. That is when they feed."

"Good to know. They look fierce," I said.

"Oh, Keith, you have no idea. I have seen many a resident get plucked up by them and taken to their caves, never to return. Try to stay as far as you can from the mountain range."

"Wonder what happens to them. Surely they can't be killed."

"I have no idea, my l...Keith."

"You'll never get used to that, will you?"

"I am trying, truly I am. While I start our dinner, would you like to take a bath?"

"Are you hinting that I smell?" I said with a smile.

"Oh no! I did not mean it that way... well, at least I did not mean it to sound like I meant it that way."

"But it is what you meant?"

"Well... um... yes, my Lord," he said, smiling as he looked at the floor.

"Yes, a bath would be nice. If you don't mind, maybe after you get the dinner started you could scrub my back." As for you, gentle reader, just hush. We both know where this evening is going.

We worked together to warm the water and prepare my bath. The tub was metal, long and deep. It not only held heat well, but I could almost fully submerge myself in it. It was by far the most luxurious experience I've had since arriving in Hell.

Hell... I'm in Hell. I'm in Hell, sitting in a warm bath up to my nose with the smells of an amazing dinner being prepared in the other room by a nude, dark-skinned man with an astounding body and a tail who fantasized about me during his trials. Am I really in Hell?

I was happily brought out of my thoughts when Usis came in carrying a very imposing sponge-looking thing. He looked at me, smiled and said, "Shall I see about your back, my Lord?"

"Yes, it does feel a bit dirty." I didn't feel the need to add my thoughts were even more so.

I sat up in the water and leaned forward, allowing Usis access to my back. It was good that I was facing the water. He couldn't see my smile or my growing erection as he began to firmly but enthusiastically scrub my back. Working around my shoulders and, to my shock and pleasant surprise, all the way down into the water right to the crack of my ass. When I turned and raised an eyebrow, all he said was "I can stop. I just would hate to miss a spot. If that is acceptable to you... my Lord."

I smiled. The "My Lord" seemed to be cloaked in a new meaning. In a bit of a stutter, I answered, "Oh no, please dedicate yourself fully to the task."

He purred and continued to wash away for what I thought was a lot longer than was probably required. Then, when he did finally stop, he announced, "I think we got it all. Please excuse me, my Lord, while I check on dinner."

As he shuffled quickly from the room I turned to see that he was carrying as well a distinct hard on. Feeling a bit devilish, I couldn't help but say as he pulled the door shut, "I would stand a bit back from the hearth. We wouldn't want you burning anything." I heard a plate hit the floor and I laughed.

By the time dinner was ready, both of us had managed to relax a bit. I, having exploited Usis' lead, decided that clothing was purely optional for dinner, so we both sat naked on the living room rug eating in front of the fire. The wine Lucifer had brought was still here, and during his visit he and I had only consumed half a bottle. So Usis and I not only had a very nice meal, but what turned out to be a decent, tasty and somewhat strong bottle and a half of wine, compliments of The Dark Lord.

As we ate and drank, we talked about all manner of things. I asked questions about life in the village, about being judged while dancing around his trials that day. He provided no information about it, and I asked for none.

As the evening wore on we grew closer and closer. The wine had been somewhat stronger than either of us had expected. To our surprise, we awoke nude, curled up together on the living room floor the following morning as Marcus came home in another one of his moods.

Usis scurried into the bedroom as I pulled on a loose fitting pair of pants I'd discarded there the day before and turned my attention to what I knew was going to be a very hard day.

Entry 48

Usis came back dressed and started to prepare breakfast as Marcus and I sat on the couch sipping what passed for coffee in Hell. Marcus droned on about how he hated what had happened with the flies, how he knew it was Hell and these people were damned and all, but still. I drifted in and out, slowly sipping my coffee, praying that Calmet would return and the horrors of the day could get underway.

He arrived back at the cottage half way through our meal. As Calmet walked in, he said his hellos, looked at me, then Usis, and smiled before turning his attention to Marcus.

"You have been summoned," he said, not even waiting to see what I thought.

"Who? Me?" asked Marcus, pointing to himself.

"Yes. I warned you that your comments about The Dark Lord had not gone unnoticed. You have been summoned to answer for these infractions."

"But..." Almost all color had drained from Marcus' face.

Taking a somewhat more somber tone, Calmet said softly, "You need to come with me now. No discussion, just come. You can only make this worse on yourself by stalling."

Marcus turned to me. "I thought... did you... what is..."

"The Dark Lord visited me. Go with him Marcus. This is beyond my control," I said, trying to maintain some sense of detachment as tears started to roll from his eyes.

Without saying another word, Marcus walked quietly to the door which Calmet held open. As Marcus passed by him, Calmet turned back to me and said in an almost apologetic tone, "You need to get dressed. You are expected to report on this."

"I know," was all I could muster as I rose from the table and went into the bedroom.

As Calmet and Marcus left, Usis helped me dress, asking, "What is happening, my Lord?" Sadly the title sounded formal again. "I am scared."

"It'll be OK, Usis. I promise. Marcus cursed The Dark Lord yesterday, and, well, I think you know the rest."

"Yes, my Lord. Will you be coming back?"

"Yes, Usis, I'll be coming back. See you in a bit."

"Yes, my Lord," He bowed. It almost brought tears to my eyes.

I finished dressing and went out to see if I could catch up with them. Calmet was just outside our door, but Marcus was gone. "Where is he?" I asked.

"Two of The Dark Lord's soldiers have taken him. I was told to stay behind and bring you. Are you ready?"

"I don't know," I said meekly.

"Most of this is his own doing. If it helps at all, your part in it I personally think has saved him."

"Saved him?" I barked.

"Yes, Keith. He insulted The Dark Lord. You have no idea what would have happened to him... well, not yet... we will get there in time. We must go. It is not good to keep our Lord waiting. Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"Put your arms around me," said Calmet.

I walked over and placed my arms around his neck. He wrapped one arm around my waist and extended his massive wings. I looked over his shoulder in surprise; they had always looked so small. He had even said they were of no use. I made a note to ask him about that. With a couple of test flaps, we rose into the air, higher and higher, until I could look down on the entire village below. It was when I saw Usis standing just outside the door of our cottage that I closed my eyes.

We sailed toward the mountains. As we swooped up to gain altitude, I again opened my eyes to see, far below us, the first plane of Hell sail past at an amazing speed. As we grew nearer, his wings flapped harder, raising us up higher, up, up until we were over the mountains. It was then that I saw the great hole I had only been told about.

I moved my head closer to Calmet's ear. "That goes down, right? Is that where we're going?"

"No... We are going up, back to the Level of Judgment."

"Oh, right." My voice broke.

As we passed over the great drop, instead of sailing down we headed up, still rising at an incredible speed. For several moments it became completely dark, then without any warning we burst forth into the dim light of the Judgment plane. We sailed quickly toward the Castle, over the rows and rows of souls waiting their turn to stand before those who would sentence them to an eternity of torment and pain.

When we reached the Castle, Calmet slowed our movement and, with a gentleness I found disturbing, lowered us onto the platform in front of Kitar.

I let go of his neck and stepped away. Today there was no one on the steps. Today the endless hordes waiting to be judged had been kept back. Today it was only the three judges, a few Demons, myself, Calmet and Marcus there before the thrones. Then all of reality shook and suddenly in the sky above us was The Morningstar, held aloft by his enormous black wings.

He lowered himself down. Today he wasn't the handsome prince nor mild-looking visitor, but The Master of Hell. The first created. The brightest light in all Creation, eclipsed only by The Father. As the sandal on his left foot touched the ground, all of reality moved just a step away. Even the air made room for him.

He paused and looked at each of us, one at a time, then with one flap of his massive wings he pulled them in close to his back. "You have used my name as a curse in my own domain," he said softly. There was an intensity in his voice that had it been a wind would have blown us over. In fact, most of the Demons within range took a step backward.

Now that I think about it, it might not have been what he said or how he said it so much as the two coupled with the look he directed toward Marcus in that moment. The Dark Lord wasn't here to protect his name, his honor or for some insignificant need to show his power... he was angry.

I took a step back as Marcus fell to his knees weeping before The Dark Lord's wrath. "I'm sorry--"

Lucifer cut him off. "Do not speak." He walked over to Kitar who sat still upon the massive center throne and rested his hand on the marble. As if it had been nothing but powder, it disintegrated under his touch. Kitar fell, intact, to the ground. He had been released from his prison, his chair. The scepter of his office dropped and rattled on the dais below our feet. Kitar's eyes were wide, he looked with surprise first at me then up at The Dark Lord. Finally down at himself, his legs and arms were not damaged, his body for the first time in millions of years was free. He pushed forward as if to crawl and fell onto his face. Lucifer noting the movement turned and with an almost imperceptible movement of his fingers ordered two guards to help the former judge away from the remains of his old imprisonment.

"For your sins," The Dark Lord said in that quiet voice, not bothering to turn back to Marcus. "You have been judged. That judgment has been set aside. Instead, I have decided that due to your insult you will no longer be allowed to travel the planes of Hell, immune to the punishments you so richly deserve. Your inability to deal with what you were tasked to do coupled with your constant insolence here in my house should have cost you untold millennia burning in never-ending flames of the furnaces. But your friend here," Lucifer pointed to me, "has intervened and begged for mercy on your behalf. Kitar has served me well, but I have need for him elsewhere so I therefore sentence you to serve out your days as his replacement, judging the souls of the damned."

Marcus kept his eyes down as he heard this sentence, but I could see confusion on his face.

Lucifer continued, "Your job will be to see, feel and experience all the sins of those that stand before you. Once you have lived their lives and their transgressions, you will pass judgment and send them down to writhe at the hands of my Demons, who will cultivate and extract their suffering that fuels all that is."

Marcus let out a howl that rang though the hills, causing the masses off in the distance to flinch. Lucifer raised his hand, and Marcus rose up off the ground. Then, from all directions, two dozen wraiths the color of the nearby stone swooped down, surrounding Marcus' body. As they moved and swirled about him, their long talons played across his flesh, slashing deep wounds that wept with blood.

One wraith grabbed each arm as four others took hold of his legs. Their massive nails slowly burrowed into his body as his cries of pain grew. Bones didn't stand a chance; we heard them snap as the dark nails passed through as if they weren't there. The others wraiths moved to where the throne had once sat and knelt down, hugging each other, hunching their backs and lowering their heads. Four at the highest, then two a bit lower in the front followed another two on their stomachs forming the steps that would lead up to the new throne.

Then those that held Marcus started to move toward the base. Slowly dragging his screaming body up over the other wraiths, they climbed to the top. The two largest creatures walked forward, the mightiest of all that had landed, their talons the longest. They moved to each side of the new foundation, reached out and pushed Marcus back, causing him to stumble onto the four wraiths forming the highest part of the base. He was now in a sitting position. The two stony beasts then reached forward and, with a slow precision, brought their claws up and slid their long nails through his arms and into his body, pinning them there forever in a resting position over the two below.

I hadn't thought his cries could grow any more labored or anguished, but they did. They now filled the entire plane of Judgment.

By this time I was crying uncontrollably, held by Calmet who had placed an arm around me so I wouldn't fall. I was forced to watch this.

Once it was done, there sat Marcus, with wraiths forming the dark base while more formed the arms, seat and back. Once The Dark Lord was satisfied, he stepped forward and from his cloak pulled a crown. It was black as pitch; no reflection came from it at all. It had seven spires encircling it, one for each of class of sin.

As he stepped onto the first step of wraiths they turned to stone. He took the next step as they turned as well. When he was level with Marcus, he leaned forward and said, "Judge my damned, for you are the gateway to all that is to follow. Bear witness to all you condemn. You send them to my charge, but in doing so you carry their weight upon your soul as well. Judge them well for you are now the Gate Keeper of Hell."

He then lowered the crown down upon Marcus' head, and all the remaining wraiths turned to stone. Marcus cries stopped.

Calmet could no longer hold me up. I dropped to the ground. He fell as well, not from shock or horror, but from the weight of having seen a Judge crowned. It was rare. When I looked up there was Marcus, "the Guy in the Suit," the man I had once saved, encased in stone, a part of his throne. What had once been talons were now stony shackles holding him in place. I do not know how, but in his right hand he held his staff of office. I had not seen how it had gotten there from its discarded spot on the floor.

He looked down at us and said, with tears streaming down his face. "Why?"

Lucifer pointed to me. "He begged for your mercy. I agreed."

Marcus turned to me with horror in his eyes.

I screamed, "I didn't know. I didn't know it would hurt so bad... I didn't know!"

Kitar slowly moved on his newly released legs over to where I knelt weeping and said, "I wish I could give you words of comfort, but the furnaces would have been far kinder."

I was crying so hard now the entire scene was blurred. Then, as if this hadn't been enough, Lucifer walked down the steps, into the crowd of souls waiting to be judged, and brought forth a female. He then returned and when they together stood before the new Judge, Lucifer said, "Here is your first soul. Judge and condemn it to eternal torment."

When Marcus saw the face of the woman, he again let out a cry of pain and sorrow that paled all those that had come before. If Hell had a sound, this was it.

I looked up at Calmet, not understanding. He bent down and said, "His wife."

Lucifer said, "Do your duty."

Marcus said to her through sobs of pain, "You are here to be judged."

I knew from before that he was now seeing, living and feeling all that had encompassed her life.

He began to recite her sins, his face and hers in tears. In his eyes you could see the torment as his words did their duty. He then sent her down to the sixth level of Hell. Then, like Kitar had done before when he had finished, he said, "You have been judged. Be gone from my sight." The Demon attendants then dragged her away.

Entry 49

I wish I could tell you how I got back to our cottage. I wish I could tell you I knew what happened next there on the planes. But I can't. Even the mind of the dead, such as I am, could take no more.

I awoke to the feeling of a moist cloth being placed across my brow. I opened my eyes to find Usis there with Calmet standing behind him. I turned to see Marcus' bed, empty and untouched, and started to cry.

I spent most of the following days crying. What had I done?

Now, my readers, I will tell you of The Dark Lord's visit. But I won't tell word-for-word because there's not much to tell. Calmet had reported to The Dark Lord about his concerns with my companion. Lucifer already knew. He had heard the curses levied against him during those days. It was after Calmet's last visit that he had decided to come see me, to inform me that Marcus' transgressions were beyond his ability to overlook. It was then that I was told that my companion was destined to be sent down to the lower levels to be punished for his sins.

I had begged Lucifer long and hard for understanding. Yes, we had been here for a hundred years, but we were still young in Hell. We still had so much to learn.

The Dark Lord listened to my pleas but in the end refused to allow Marcus' transgressions to go unpunished. He explained how in many ways Hell was a delicate vase finely balanced upon a needle's tip. The suggestion of allowing a party to travel freely within the regions while slandering His name was well beyond what He was disposed to allow. It would spread nothing but derision and encourage others. In the end I made a suggestion and He agreed.

You have to understand I'm new to Hell. We're only on the first level. I hadn't even really seen Hell yet. So I chose the only thing I knew. A Judge. Kitar had been so wise, so understanding and so kind. I didn't know about the beginning. I didn't know the thousands of years he had suffered before resigning himself to his punishment. I didn't know of the pain he carried from seeing those lives and then sending them down to suffer. How even today, after untold millions, even billions of souls, he could tell you about the lives and sins of each of them. I didn't know that I had sentenced my friend to not only live out his Hell but that of all those who were brought before his throne. To see and experience the worst Creation had to offer for the rest of eternity.

I was no longer an onlooker in Hell; I was now a participant. I was now a Demon.

Entry 50

While I cried, the dynamics changed. Calmet brought me food, Calmet did the shopping. Why? Because Usis never left my side. He sat there cradling me in his arms, day after day, as I suffered.

Finally the day came that I stopped. One can only cry so many tears. It's not because the body runs out, more like it just gives up.

I woke that day -- I say that day because I have no idea how much time had passed -- and still Usis was there and so was Calmet. I walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. Pulling my knees up tight against my chest, I looked at Calmet and he asked, "Do you want to tell him now?"

"Do I tell him, look what has happened to my companion? How can anyone travel with me? What will I bring them to?"

"He is more trained, you have seen that. He is a better choice. You have The Dark Lord's blessing on this."

I then turned and found Usis' eyes. "The Dark Lord says you can accompany me. Come on my journey as my companion. I had originally thought I was doing you and Marcus both a favor, but now, after what happened to him, I don't know."

Usis crossed the room, sat down beside me and placed his arm around me, pulling me close. "Welcome to Hell, Keith. There are no easy decisions. If I can in anyway carry even a small part of the burden that is to come for you, then I go gladly. I will stand by your side. I know what is here. I have seen the pain."

Through tear-filled eyes I looked at him and we kissed. On that day my visit to the First Plane ended and we moved on. Me, Calmet and Usis. Down into the bowels of Hell.

