Danielle's Inferno

by Michelle Rene

  “I know but still.”

  “We’re talking murderers and violent criminals. Rapists. Remember that.”

  We walked away from the dogs and toward what appeared to be a red lake. No, more like a sea. The screaming was less here, perhaps because there were less demons about. When we got nearer to the shore, I noticed it wasn’t water. The air smelled coppery and strange. It smelled like blood.

  Upon closer inspection, I saw that the lake was moving, like it was carbonated. Lots of bubbles and steam. Wait, no. It was boiling. I could feel the heat coming off of it. Didn’t Pudding say there was a sea of boiling blood in Hell?

  When I turned to ask her, I spotted her a few feet away, lapping some of the boiling blood like it was milk from a saucer. I fought the urge to puke.

  “Ugh, Cerberus was right. I should have hydrated,” she said. “Don’t tell. I’d never hear the end of it.”

  “Ewww. What the Hell? Is that the boiling blood sea you told me about? How can you drink that?”

  “It’s not as bad as you’d think. Plus, if we are going to get to the next level, I’ve got to drink something. Seriously. I’m all dried out, and the heat here isn’t helping.”

  “That’s just so disgusting,” I said.

  “Listen, I’d love a porcelain dish of toilet water right now, but hey, when in Hell…”

  “I’ve got a warm Poors Light if you want,” said a deep voice behind me.

  I nearly leapt out of my skin. When I turned around, I saw an enormous horned demon towering over me. His face was indifferent as he plucked a bottle of Poors Light from the tray in his horns. He held the beer out to Pudding.

  “Gross, Marv. Don’t be a shit,” she snapped.

  Pudding went back to lapping the blood. Marv merely shrugged and walked away. I didn’t know what to do with my shaking hands, so I crossed them over my chest.

  I could hear the steady building of wails. It wasn’t the blood-curdling shrieks of sharp pain. More like the continuous lamentations of agony. I searched the horizon for the source and saw bodies in the blood water. Hundreds of thousands of people were swimming in the boiling sea.

  Some swam from shore to shore, trying to get out onto the dry land. Every time they did, some invisible wall threw them back into the lake. Others floated there like fleshy water balloons dressed in old finery and lace. One woman was treading water nearby. When we made eye contact, she swam closer to us. She looked not unlike my old, introverted roommate. Thin, a little too pale, and wearing an over-sized shirt that said “Any Time is Wine Time.”

  “Please help me!” she yelled.

  “What do you want?” Pudding asked.

  “Please! Save me from this fate. I don’t deserve it!” she said.

  “Uh huh. Hey Marv, you still got that longbow?” Pudding asked loudly.

  Marv, the Violence Demon, returned with a huge longbow at his side. I wasn’t sure where he came from. You would think I’d hear a giant devil thing stomping my way. But no. He just appeared and scared the crap out of me again.

  “Sure do, Pudding,” Marv said with a grin.

  “Okay, Legolas, I’ll give you twenty points for hit her right in the top knot,” Pudding said.

  “That’s too easy,” he said.

  “Wait!” I said putting my hands up. “Before you hit her, what did she do?”

  The demon and Hellcat looked at me perplexed. They exchanged glances and shrugged. Apparently, neither of them knew of her crimes. Marv pulled a ledger from thin air and ran his finger over several lines.

  “She stabbed her husband to death with a serrated bread knife. Nineteen times in the chest and another sixty-seven times in the genitals,” he said.

  Marv made the ledger disappear, and we all turned back to the murderess treading boiling blood water. There were blisters all around her neck, and her face was completely red. I cupped my hands around my mouth to make the words reach her amid all the wails of pain around us.

  “Why did you do that?” I asked.

  “He…he made me watch Prometheus like fifty times. You know that Alien prequel? I just… couldn’t take it anymore!”

  I looked down, and Pudding met my eyes. It was worth a reprieve in my book. Apparently, Pudding agreed.

  “Meh, let her go. I mean, she’s already in boiling blood. Sounds like her husband was a monster,” Pudding said.

  We heard a loud thung sound behind us. A black arrow shot over our heads. It landed with a terrible cracking sound in the woman’s skull. Right in the center of her top knot. When we turned around to look at Marv, he was holding his bow with a determined look on his face.

  “I liked Prometheus,” he said flatly.

  “Wasn’t it enough she was boiling alive?” I asked.

  Marv didn’t bother answering my question. He merely looked me over and asked Pudding, “Full tour, eh?”

  “Yeah, unfortunately,” she said.

  “Alright, check you later. Remember, that’s twenty points for the top knot.”

  “Yeah, I’m good for it. See you later,” she said.

  The two did a complicated handshake involving his hand and her paw. I couldn’t follow the motion and was eternally grateful when he didn’t try it with me. I was pretty sure I’d earn Marv’s wrath if I messed it up or if I told him how much I hated Prometheus. The demon merely waved and walked away.

  “Can I close my eyes for this one? This place is just terrible,” I said to Pudding. “I’m not sure how much more I can take. Just lead me around, okay?”

  “Oh fine, you big baby. I still think Anger is much worse, but go ahead and close your eyes, and I’ll tell you when we are there.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Unspeakable acts of violence happened all around us while Pudding led me through the carnage. She wasn’t careful about leading me either. I bumped into rocks and demons, and she laughed every time. I was pretty sure she was doing it on purpose.

  I wanted to cover my ears so I didn’t have to hear the screams and gore, but Pudding wouldn’t let me. She allowed me to have my eyes covered up until we reached a forest and the sounds of violence had dissipated.

  “Danny, open your eyes. You have to see this one.”

  I did so and saw a tree in front of us. The tree appeared to have a face, a sad face. There were other trees around us with faces, but this one seemed oddly familiar.

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s Hitler,” she said with her closest approximation of a grin.

  “What?”

  “Look at it closely.”

  I did even though the tree tried to not make eye contact with me. It moved its wooden pupils everywhere but where we were standing. After a little while of staring, I could see the resemblance. It did look like Hitler, little mustache made of moss and everything.

  “This is the suicide forest,” Pudding said.

  “The suicide forest?”

  “If you’re a suicide, you get to be a tree here. Looks like that’s where he is on his misery tour today.”

  I took in the forest around me. Each tree had a face of some sort. You could hear some of the violence in the distance, but overall, it was peaceful here. The trees swayed back and forth with downcast glances and moved to a rhythm no one but they could hear.

  “It doesn’t seem so bad,” I said.

  “It’s not, unless you were a shitty suicide like him. If you just killed yourself, you’re a tree here, kind of sad but serene. However, if you killed millions of others too…”

  “Then what happens?”

  Just then, we heard squawking and three huge, big busted harpies swooped in from the sky and landed on the Hitler tree. He started screaming something in German while they clawed and ripped at his limbs and bark mercilessly. They pecked and scratched and gouged his eyes and he wailed, helpless and with no hope of rescue.

  “Ha! Get ‘em, girls!”

  “I thought you hated birds,” I said.

  �
�I normally do, but these bitches are great.”

  One particularly large harpy dug a talon into Hitler Tree’s eyeball. He shrieked as she pecked a hole with her beak and yanked out a long worm. Pudding laughed and egged the harpies on. I winced and tried to look away.

  “Can we go now, Pudding,” I said.

  “Oh come on, Danny. It’s Hitler.”

  “Please?”

  “Okay. Fine then,” she said.

  I felt the little cat move away from me. Under the flurry of wings, she made her way to the base of the tree. Pudding squatted and peed on Hitler Tree’s roots. A swirling portal appeared. I was so relieved we had an exit from that horrific place. We jumped in without a moment of caution. Anywhere had to be better than that place.

  9

  Fraud

  Our next stop was an endless desert where people sat buried up to their chests in scorching sand. The blazing heat all around baked them relentlessly. Spindly, burned demons walked the desert whipping people they were forced to march in the scorch.

  Some seemed to burn like wild hot fires, while other singed slowly. I imagined that their level of heat was directly connected with how bad their crimes were. I didn’t ask Pudding. Even though I could feel no heat, just being there made me exhausted and thirsty. I knew I could speak, but the idea of opening my mouth made me wince. This place was painful even to look at as a visitor.

  “Welcome to Fraud. These are your basic dirty politicians, false diviners, prophets, thieves, pimps and seducers. They all roast here together,” Pudding said.

  She led me to a bubbling cauldron with a man inside. He somehow was boiling and burning at the same time, which made for an interested smell. If you could label burned hair and lanced blisters interesting. A singed demon occasionally stabbed the man with barbed spoon.

  “And who is in the pot today, Ralph?” Pudding asked the demon as we approached.

  Ralph nodded at Pudding and stared at the face simmering in the boiling cauldron. After few twists and turns of the head, he shrugged.

  “Hard to tell at this stage. Face is all melty. Just another politician, I suppose. Anyone want a Poors Light?”

  “No, thank you,” I said, trying not to pinch my nose.

  I wasn’t sure if Ralph would see it as rude, so continued to breath in the foul scent of the soup. The demon poured the beer into the cauldron on top of the boiling politician. Pudding gave him a crooked look.

  “What? Humans cook with beer, right?” Ralph asked.

  “I don’t think they cook with that beer,” said a lispy voice behind them. “They normally use beer they half-way like.”

  I turned to see a huge, black snake approach. It was longer than a school bus and as big around as a person. It slithered near me, and I tried not to bolt. Fear turned me mute and paralyzed. Pudding looked just as bored as ever.

  “I thought it was any beer,” Ralph said disappointed. “Well, maybe it will cook out. Politician stew tonight at any rate.

  “It’s politician stew every night,” the snake said with a role of its eyes.

  “What? You don’t like my cooking? I can’t help there are so many of them here.”

  “It’s not you, Ralph,” the snake said. “It’s just the stew always tastes so rubbery.”

  “Hey, it’s not my fault these guys are always so plastic,” Ralph said, pouting a little.

  “So true, but I think I’m going to dine on thief tonight. A little gamey to be sure, but I like them better.”

  “Suit yourself,” Ralph said.

  Off in the distance, a skinny man was running through the desert. The snake snapped its head around and saw the man. A part of me wanted to cry out and warn the thief, but I was still so mute from my own fear. Poor bastard was on his own.

  With a quick sprint, the snake closed the distance between them and coiled his body around the thief before he could scream. I sucked in a stifled scream. Ralph looked off after his snake friend and stirred his pot indifferently.

  “Now he’s just showing off,” Ralph said.

  “Doesn’t he always?” Pudding said while licking her paws. I hadn’t noticed it in my terror, but Pudding had been bathing herself this whole time. She finished and gestured to me. “Well, see you later, Ralph. Gotta finish the full tour here.”

  “Full tour, huh? Just one more to go then.”

  “Yeah,” Pudding said with the smallest hint of sadness in her voice.

  We left the demon as soon as I found my legs from underneath me and continue through the desert. We passed people buried in the sand. Some are buried upside down with their feet cooking to a crisp in the ever-present heat. Some bartered endlessly for their lives while being locked in individual pillars of flame.

  “What did he mean? One more to go?” I asked.

  “Nothing. Just demon nonsense,” Pudding said.

  I was about to question her further, but a line of men and women marched in front of us. We had to stop to let them pass. They were all dressed like pimps and prostitutes. Dozens of them in a single line. An emaciated, burned demon marched them forward with a whip like a drill sergeant.

  “I don’t know what I’ve been told…” he said.

  Whip!

  “…Satan’s asshole’s mighty cold,” said the pimps and prostitutes.

  “Sound off! 1 2…”

  Whip!

  “…3 4…Ouch!”

  After the line passed us, we reached a place where people were buried in manure. They were slowly being dissolved by feces into a little people-poop puddles. Each time one of the humans got dissolved completely, a temporary portal appeared where they had been. Pudding led me to a blonde woman in a Prada suit being consumed by crap.

  “You know, you look quite nice in that color of fur. And you, that skirt is very fetching,” she said with a sly tone.

  “What did she do?” I asked the Hellcat.

  “Flatterers dissolve in feces,” Pudding said.

  “Flattery can get you into Hell?”

  “All roads can lead to Hell, especially when you use flattery to charm and steal. Most are sociopaths. This one stole from every store she walked into and wore her husband down to the point he killed himself.”

  “Oh God, she did that?” I asked, turning back to the blond woman. She was dissolved to her chest.

  “Very astute. I can tell you are the one of the smarter Hellcats here. Not many can boast a big intellect, but you…”

  “Save it. We aren’t getting you out of here,” Pudding said.

  The woman’s look turned instantly into rage and resentment. It was like a flipping of a light switch. One second, she was all smiles and compliments. The next second, she was a hissing viper of a person.

  “You no good, piece of trash, mangy ass, skid mark of a cat. I’d sooner accept a poker in the eye than a friendly paw from the likes of you!”

  “And there’s the real her,” Pudding said with a nod.

  “And as for you…”

  The woman had turned to me, apparently ready to tell me off as well. She didn’t get to say another word because her mouth was immersed in excrement. When the last blonde hair dissolved, the portal appeared. I jump inside without another thought. At least it wasn’t a porta potty this time.

  10

  Treachery

  The next level was frozen. When we landed, I felt cold all over. Chilled to bone as it were, literally. I could feel the freeze inside my bones. What a difference this place was from the last one. When I breathed out, the air hung visible in front of me for a long time.

  “Where are we now?”

  “This is the ninth circle, Treachery.”

  “Wow, it’s so different.”

  “Yeah,” said Pudding, sounding sullen.

  We passed people as we walked, all were frozen in ice. Some were completely frozen, while others only partially. A few people were even frozen upside down. One of those wore old clothes and had a beard. If I tried hard enough, I could just about look down his robes.


  “That’s Judas.”

  I nodded with interest. It felt like I was looking at a display in a museum.

  We walked a little further until we came to a man in a toga, partially frozen in place. His face, shoulders, and one arm was free, but the rest of him was encased in ice. His trapped hand held a knife, and it was covered in blood. He waived at us with his free one.

  “Hey, Pudding.”

  “Hey, Brutus.”

  “Full tour?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” she said again, hanging her head.

  She was suddenly somber. I hadn’t seen her sad this whole time. She watched people getting tormented all around her and react with an indifferent shrug or roll of the eyes. Now, she frowned and moved slowly.

  We came upon a beautiful man. Well, he looked like a man, but he was colossal, like Michelangelo’s David. He was frozen to his waist, and his large chest rose and fell as he slept against the rock behind him. His curly blond hair fell over his handsome face, and even though I couldn’t see his eyes, I was certain they were lovely. This guy could’ve been on a romance novel cover.

  “Who’s that?” I asked curiously.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  I looked at the cat puzzled. She seemed positively depressed. The snarky, wise-cracking cat seemed to be gone. I shivered a little and hugged myself for warmth. It didn’t help much.

  “Is it time to go on? It’s getting really cold.”

  Pudding looked up at me with a face full of sorrow. Her eyes pleaded with me for something I could not understand. She opened her mouth a few times before she found her words.

  “This is it. End of the line.”

  “What do you mean? There’s only nine levels?” I asked.

  “Yes, only nine,” she said as she looked down at her feet.

  I shivered again and hugged myself tighter. My feet suddenly began to freeze. No, they weren’t just cold, they were frozen solid. They were freezing to the floor.

  I looked down to see that ice had completely frozen over my feet, sending little spines of pain into my toes. Looking at Pudding’s face, it hit me. Treachery. I could feel the cold. This place could affect me. This place was for me. I belonged in Treachery.