Alice In Wonderhell

by catt dahman

  Coral finished popping some heads open, and Pax stomped his boots to get the blood off. Coral looked a little sick as he surveyed the brains leaking out.

  Annie and Dana smiled at one another.

  “We did it,” Annie smiled, “just like Coral taught us.”

  Dana smirked, “I knew we could, and I feel better after that payback.”

  “You just watched?” I asked Danny and Virgil. They leaned against a slab of cement, watching and yawning.

  “You had this fight in the bag. There was no doubt. One thing, keep your arms up a little higher, Dana. One almost got in a punch. Annie, don‘t be afraid to kick a little harder. Coral and Pax did well. Corey, you can finish the job faster. You aren’t supposed to enjoy it, or you’ll end up down here forever, right? “

  “What about me?”

  Danny looked at me, “You were at a level three, at most. I expected more enthusiasm and ass kicking from you. That won’t work when you meet some really tough characters.”

  “It was my first, Danny. I don’t care why there are here, but I hate hurting people,” I said. I was more than a little pissed off at his critique.

  “They are very bad people, remember. And no matter the damage, they will be back.”

  “I’ll try to fight harder next time,” I said uninterestedly, “but it’s sickening.”

  “Good, but still…a little more enthusiasm, please,” he said. “Never enjoy it. Do it because we have a higher purpose. Once you like the blood…well…you know there will soon be room down here for more. Don’t mess up. I don’t want to leave any of you down here.”

  “Great, you dumb fuck, telling me not to enjoy it,” Cory snapped.

  “Could that happen? I mean…we could get left?” Pax asked.

  “It’s a possibility. But we have to go. We can’t be late.” Danny looked at his pocket watch, put it back into his pocket, and kind of hopped a little down the alley.

  Chapter Eleven: Pond of Tears and Horde of Rats

  A woman slipped from the shadows. She was dressed oddly, even for hell, in a slip of a dress that showed one bare breast. She stood tall and strong and had a determined look on her face. I asked who she was as she ran past.

  “Penthesilea, Amazon Queen. Maybe you recall her story. She fought for the Trojan side and did amazingly well, but she fell, and then Achilles raped her as she lay dying. He’s a piss ant by the way and lives here for his cruelty and sinful ways,” Virgil said. “She could have beaten the bullies, but there were too many of them; she took the chance to get by after you did your job. Smart of her.”

  “Smart? Letting us do the work? Can’t she fight?” I fumed.

  “Sure she can and will, but she didn’t want to face them all alone. She is a far better warrior than you are, but she chose to be clever, instead.”

  “I think she was cheap in letting us do the work,” I complained.

  We walked out into what, back home, would be called a commons or a park. There were statues, and I recognized Adolph Hitler, a chubby former US President, and a Hollywood movie starlet carved from the smooth stone. I bet you can guess those two, I mean. Benches had tiny nails lining the seats, and when I saw that some people were sitting on benches, I had goose bumps. Blood seeped between the slats to the cobblestones as the nails punctured the flesh of their buttocks.

  Grass was more of a spongy green fungus, the trees were gnarled, bare, and dying, and the water from the fountain was spurting in jumps and starts as if pumping from an artery, smelling like cat piss.Next to it and along the edges of the fountain on stone sides, sat misshapen women, or females, I should say, who reached out talon-tipped fingers to catch drops of the yellow liquid and lick them away.

  Terrible tumors and growths covered their faces, and their bodies were jointed in odd places but very curvaceous with wide, generous hips, big firm bosoms, and shapely legs. Their skin was smooth, creamy greenish, and disgusting. What the tumors didn’t cover looked human-life except for their eyes, which were bloodshot in shades of pink, red, and reddish brown.

  The spawn of these beings scampered lizard-like through the park and resembled their mothers.

  “These are mainly the demon wives of some of the higher-ups. They spend their time here in the park or shopping,” Virgil said.

  “There is the Pond of Tears.” We looked at the water. Virgil explained that all the tears people shed for their loved ones in hell landed here. It looked like the most pleasant part of hell, a clear pond of salt water, a shore of sand.

  “It’s not as bad here. Tears are okay, I guess,” Coral said thoughtfully.

  Danny snickered, “Tears. And the sand, yellow and fine? That is made of eye boogers and the crust eyes can get. You can imagine how repulsive it is to be caught way over there in the Swamp of Conjunctivitis or pink eye if you are local. It’s toxic, and any contact leads to ghastly eye infections.”

  “Yuk,” Dana said. She looked at me with disgust, wondering how Danny could snicker. I didn’t know how he could, either.

  Some boats sailed far away. Danny and Virgil urged us to hurry along.

  “Here. Stand over here,” Danny said, “we are about to see another rough part of this area.”

  In the distance, I saw a smudge, but it was closer each time I looked. The demon children played in the sand, not aware of the black mass approaching.

  We saw that the black mass was a horde of rats running towards us at a ferocious speed, eyes beady, noses twitching, tails slinking. I moved closer to Coral who sat a strong arm about my shoulders.

  Virgil took over, pulling me close to him, and Coral let go. When Limmerfer meowed pitifully, I reached down and gathered him into my arms to stroke his ears. He climbed up until he was against my heartbeat, facing away from the threat.

  I felt a little dizzy and warm next to Virgil as he held me against his hard muscled body. He was safe to be close to, but he also felt a little dizziness. I tried to not think about it; he was only protecting me.

  Rats poured onto the beach of sand and raced to the children. The rats’ fur writhed with fleas and shone with grease. The first rats leaped at a child, hooking yellowed incisors onto his small body and scrambled up to nip at his timorous, waxy green face.

  More rats climbed the other children as if they were trees, using razor sharp claws to hold on. Everywhere were squeals and shrieks of pain; demon mothers ran to their children, yelling for help as their children were attacked.

  I almost reeled with horror. Vigil held me tighter so I didn’t fall as my legs went to jelly. I wanted to hide my face against his shoulder but watched, remembering this was where I had to work for a while.

  The sound was like pulling duct tape off a roll as the rats ripped away strips and strands of skin from faces and bodies. The pieces looked rather like long pieces of wilted, pale lettuce with red gore splashed about. Bits of clothing fell like confetti, along the droplets of blood that festooned the sand. More screams.

  The rats became slick with the blood from their victims but continued to bite and eat the demon flesh until we saw white bone flashing in the frenzied attack.

  Bare finger bones and arm bones waved at the sky for help as the children screamed with pain and fear.

  In a while, only bones, the confetti, bits of flesh, and globs of red and yellow, fatty slime remained on the beach. The rats, following some leader, dove into the salty pond and swam as a thick, dark unit back across to another beach, sated with their meal. Little movement was left on the sand as they fled to the infectious swamp.

  “In a while, the children and mothers will reincorporate, and we again will see the mothers sitting on the benches and the demonic children playing in the park and coming out to the sand if we stayed.

  This attack happens every day at the same time, and each time, they have forgotten the terror and pain of the rats. It’s not pleasant, and it’s best to stay away so you aren’t bitten as well,” Danny told us.

  “It’s terrible here,” I said. It was terr
ible when Virgil let me go, too.

  Some of the rats remained, still chewing at the flesh. I went over and kicked one as hard as I could, and it squealed as it went flying through the air. Cory and Dana each kicked one, and Coral snapped one under his boot, “I don’t like no rats,” he said.

  I liked the crunch as I kicked another away. I posed for a second in my badass outfit, my feet spread a little, and hands in fists by my sides. I felt more like a warrior each passing minute.

  Limmerfer sniffed at the rats but didn’t touch them other than to bat them away with sharp-clawed paws.

  Chapter Twelve: Open Markets

  We followed Danny and Virgil around the pond and into a new quarter. Danny said it was nearing dinnertime and we should try not to be appalled, warning us that this was going to be awful. Dinnertime would no doubt be miserable in this place.

  At the open market, they sold vile things although Danny said this was considered a classy area in which to shop for food. A gnarled, old woman called out to us to see her wares.“Fresh, sweet meats,” she said, pointing out a tray of penises lined up like sausages and testicles with a slice on onion on top and braised with butter. I almost didn’t know what they were in this odd context and because they were so white, drained of blood and flabby.

  Another was a penis smothered with maggots and a plate of pale things that at first I thought were funny-colored fried eggs but were breasts, nipples pink and purple and set into a dish such as fried eggs with penises as sausages in a macabre breakfast offering. In another dish were more personal female parts, pickled.

  “Where do they come from?” Cory asked.

  “ Maybe adulterers or maybe Flense Banks. The poor people go there and offer body parts for a few pennies so they can afford food or things they need,” Danny explained. “A man might go in and give his privates, which are worth more than some parts. Toes and fingers are purchased for use in bars such as Hot Digits with sauce. Some banks buy buttocks for the barby and others buy tongues to pickle.”

  Annie gagged.

  Pax looked puzzled, “They walk around with privates cut away?”

  “Sure. You see women without breasts, or they wear socks wadded up, and the men can’t…yanno, and it never heals…always an open wound, so it hurts like a bitch, but what can they do? It’s hell,” Danny said.

  The old woman offered us a kidney pie, and I shuddered, “Marinated in its own piss,” she called.

  Hellfire Sweets offered familiar shapes covered in a thin coating of chocolate.

  “I’d like to buy BBDU and burn this place to the ground. It should be destroyed,” I said, “Everything and everyone here should be cast into nothingness. There is no reason for all this. It’s a total…bother.”

  Virgil nodded, “I agree. But Lucifer was an ass and caused trouble, and so this place was formed. It’s all his doing…selfish prick…he formed the negative space.”

  In the next stall were breasts, decorated with dried herbs and the owner of the stall assured us they had been well cooked on a brimstone grill. He praised brimstone and brimstone accessories.

  Pax gripped my hand as we passed a place that had strips of cured flesh hanging from wires and fishhooks above. “We got demon jerky, human jerky, hybrid jerky. I got pork belly, man belly, demon belly…fried, braised, dried, roasted, grilled, and broiled,” the owner of the booth said, “Filet-men-yon.”

  The worst part was it all smelled like bacon and made our mouths water. I turned away to avoid seeing what was roasted whole and had an apple in its mouth. I had a feeling I knew.

  There were stalls with herbs, bottles of potions, more roasts that hung from the rafters of stalls, human-looking torsos, breads, vegetables, and stones, papers, and dark-colored cloth. I saw jars of pickled tongues and thought of Coral’s dill pickles.

  Danny looked over the vegetables with Coral and selected some: fruit, bread, and a block of goat’s cheese. I didn’t think any of us would be able to eat the items Danny wrapped and put into his bag.

  A woman waved a hand over her pots, “Ready to eat:prostate pudding, demon food cake, caramel ears, and joint jelly. It’s all to die for,” she giggled. I was shocked that her body was turned backwards, and she had to use her hands without seeing. I asked why her head was on backwards.

  “Fortune teller. She lied about being one and took money for lies, so since she couldn’t see the future, she is doomed to look behind her here in hell,” Virgil said, “It’s strange, isn’t it?”

  “Creepy,” I told him.

  “We’ll see more of them later as we descend. There’s an entire place where they twist the heads that way.”

  I saw an immense, muscular demon in the next booth. He was greenish yellow and had nubs of horns on his forehead, a bull-looking face with a wide set nose, and the body of a man. An enormous bulge wiggled under his loin cloth as he looked me over.

  Hornets buzzed his face, and one stung him. He winced with the pain but still stared at me. I figured that over the eons, he was stung a lot, and although it hurt, it was familiar.

  I ignored the wiggling of his privates, “What do you sell?”

  When he grinned, dirty, brown, square teeth showed, “I have three bred humans.”

  “What is that? I’m new here.”

  “I know. I smell your newness.” He sniffed towards me, obscenely. He explained in loving detail that in hell, demons could have children with demons, female humans with male humans, and humans with demons. The offspring had no souls and were empty vessels.

  “I have the offspring of humans for sale. You can find such all along here, and some are for eating, some are for playthings, and some are for servants. Your stall dealer tells you what he has trained or procured his wares for.”

  “Oh,” I said, “and what are your three humans for?” I felt my face turn numb with the absurdity of this conversation.

  He chuckled as he pulled back a small black curtain to reveal a little platform where he had three humans chained. Each was a child of about three or four and were grossly overweight, so thick and plump that they couldn’t stand but had to sit with the others in a puddle of rolls of dirty, foul-smelling flesh. I thought about chubby grub worms. I hated that I was already catching on to the way things worked here.

  “Roasts,” I said.

  He winked, slapping at a hornet that stung his cheek.

  Virgil whispered, “He is self indulgent. He was probably a sexual predator or traded in human flesh. This is his punishment: to be stung by his conscience to remind him of his selfishness. I don’t think he suffers much.”

  As we walked away, the hornets gathered and swarmed the man to sting; it made me feel a little better as the man broke down and howled as a dozen of the tiny beasties sank their stingers into his flesh, the poison dripping in yellow tears. He howled.

  Chapter Thirteen: She was a Worm….

  Danny led us down an alley to a house built of old wood and concrete blocks, another dirty, dusty house. We walked across the bridge, as beneath us, sludge carried small bones along the canal. We reached the opened door, and we ducked inside. I had to let my eyes adjust to the dim candlelight of the house.

  The woman before us was A. Monster. I. Think.

  This was almost beyond what I could deal with. She stood very tall, about seven feet; she was a few inches taller than Coral. Several rows of small arms stuck out of her body that was not so much a torso but rolls of fat, which made her seem to be segmented. Her legs looked merged, and she was shaped exactly like a caterpillar.

  She had soft, mushy-looking flesh and a row of flat breasts, five in all. She wasn’t concerned that we saw her in a nude state, but then maybe worms didn’t care.

  Her face was a wide, sloppy-lipped mouth with stubs of tiny teeth, a flat nose, big golden eyes, and antennae that swept up and away from her face majestically. Despite everything I have said, she seemed almost regal and very motherly.

  It was rude, but we all stared at this…this…I didn’t have a word f
or her.

  Virgil introduced us, “This is Cassie.”

  “I’m sorry I’m staring. I haven’t been here long, and I am not used to people and places yet. I find you very unusual and foreign to me.”

  That was the best I could say to explain why we all looked at her.She was a worm.I was attempting to be as polite as possible because I knew she was hiding us in her home at great danger to herself.

  Cassie smiled, which was not a pretty response, “It’s okay, dear. I know we take some getting used to. I looked like any of you when I was alive as I was a pretty young girl before I died of the plague. I was the prettiest, youngest nun in the convent.Then, I descended into this place, but now, well, you see what I look like. I have changed.” Her eyes blinked.

  “Why?” Coral asked, “why are you different now? I mean, if I may be so personal and ask. I apologize if I am out of line.”

  “Those of us who were nuns, priests, rabbis, imams, and monks who got in trouble were changed once we got here. We became monstrous.” She twittered as she moved that huge body to another room, motioning with her many hands for us to follow. Her kitchen was small. Coral got busy with the food Danny had collected.

  “I forget that people are shocked to see what I am. For hundreds of years, I cried, but did that change anything? Not a bit. Now, I accept what I look like.”

  I wondered what she had done to be sent here.

  She was a worm and how weird was that?

  As if she could read my mind, she said, “I was that pretty young nun, and I stole coins from the church. I had a streak of vanity, you see since I was so pretty, and those coins bought cosmetics that I wore in secret. I was a thief, vain, and a hypocrite to the church,” Cassie said.

  “That isn’t…I mean, there are worse crimes you could have committed. This seems a little harsh,” Dana muttered sympathetically.

  Virgil replied, “A worm in the grain ruins the entire barrel, just like a worm in an apple ruins the fruit. She was considered to be the worm that was ruining the church.”