Circle of Hell

Circle of Hell

I trek down the fierce narrow road with prickly thorns piercing through my skin. The base of my feet started bleeding profusely. At the sides of the road, serpents ogled at me, their hot red tongues drilling out of their mouths, beckoning me to my doom. The site of these serpents was so scary. By then, my soul was empty, yet at the same time full of unmeasurable dread. "Wait on, do you know where you are headed to?” a voice calls out in a shrill that almost pierces my ears. It was Godot, one of the most dreaded violent criminals that ever graced the town. He was tall, fierce and so aggressive.

“Where to does this lead.?” I earnestly ask with despair.

My agitation is too bold to hold, pounding my soul heavily. I hope this dark and weary road that is occasionally lit by the flames from the serpents’ mouths leads to exhilarating hope. Godot seemed relaxed, knowing and understanding at the same time. From the occasional lighting from the serpents' mouths, I can see Godot looking at me with that grin on his face that shows pity.

“This, my dear friend, is the way to the circle of hell.” He says. “For any violence done, no matter of which degree, your fate awaits there.” He adds as he leads the way.

I cannot feel anything of me apart from the pounding of my soul. I try to get back to where we have come from, but the road is not there anymore. It has changed to a very dark abyss I cannot imagine. I hold on to Godot’s hand, trembling with a fear inestimable. The place lights, a bright light that burns through the eyes and deep down into the occiput. We are standing at the periphery of a huge circle, with a deep, wide ditch in front of us. There are more ditches in one big circle, and I think eight of them. Spikes surround the ditches, and the slopes inside are steep. I see many souls inside the circle at which we are standing.

“These are for the violent and thieves. They are put in different ditches depending on the magnitude of crime.” Godot explains. “No one escapes from that ditch.” He adds.

The site is frightening and alarming. The souls inside are full of trepidation, clutching to an emptiness for hope to be saved. The shrieks from the souls echo through the emptiness above the ditch. It is hard to discern what the souls are saying, for the din is too unbearable to stand.

“What crime have these souls committed? “ I ask Godot, who seems so attentive and ready to answer. He turns to me as he points down the circle.

"The final count for all violent sinners is here," he states. "Homicides, murderers, rapists and the like.” Godot adds.

Just as he finishes talking to me, a large, seemingly hefty pestle draws from the clouds above the ditch at which we are standing. It comes down in the middle of the ditch laden with hulking anger. It crushes deep down into the souls of thieves, rapists, killers, and the like, causing a murky mist of the souls it has crushed. The souls are many, and the ones macerated cease to be. More souls are poured into the circle, an endless stream of ugly monstrous souls. Fucci gets hold of my hand and leads me to the second ditch at his right. It is the same size as the first ditch, with spikes above it and a steep edge that looks sloppy. The souls here make a shrill scream that vibrates through the space above the ditch and the whole circle.

“These ones are petty thieves on the streets.” Godot explains. “Identity theft, larceny, fraud, robbery, burglary and embezzlement are all encased here.” He retorts.

Unlike the first ditch, here, instead of the big heavy pestle like of the first ditch, sharp spikes fastened on one big slab come from the space above at an incredible speed. They are thousands of spikes, I can guess. Each spike pierces through sundry souls as they travel down the ditch, pinning them in line above its rod. I can guess one spike pierces over one hundred souls at a time. The wails, the screams, and the lamentations engulf the gloomy atmosphere above the circle. To my consternation there, there seems no hope for survival. The circle of hell is a beehive. The punishments seem deservedly so. Godot is not interested in anything from me but in educating me of what is to befall me. I do envy Godot, for he can evade all this. However, he does not seem to sympathize with me, nor does he realize how frightened I am.

“God, you decided who I was to be before I was born. If you so please, make my punishment soft and light.” I stammer in prayer as Godot looks at me in amazement.

"You had enough time to pray, your chance was given while you still enjoyed life." He reminds me as he walks into the shadow beyond me. He disappears into the shadow, leaving me aghast in front of the circle of hell.

I gather all might to continue with prayer. “Lord, if my punishment be so weighty, make it quick not ponderous.” I continue in prayer.

The circle of hell is astounding. It breaks all the might left within a soul. It is a horrendous site of souls pleading, cursing, and swearing. I learn that there is no escape from hell and that Godot’s turn has come. That is why he disappears in the dark. The circle of hell is horrid, creating an awful fear capitulates all hope. With a deafening sound thundering through the space above me, it becomes pitch black, and I can see no more.