Woman in Red: Magdalene Speaks

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Woman in Red: Magdalene Speaks Page 50

by Krishna Rose


  Death comes to them mysteriously, by way of an omnipotent weapon known as the Sud-Arshan-Chakra, yielded by the Lord’s hand alone. Swiftly, His weapon removes the head of whomever it is aimed at. Because the denizens of Hell are not immortal—when the Lord’s chakra enters their provinces, all the pregnant wives of the demons have miscarriages, fearing death, which has come to take one of them by surprise.

  All rulers own Naga serpents as pets, who roam freely throughout Hell, administering punishment and reporting back to their masters what they observed. Their many heads are bedecked with large gemstones which dispel the influence of darkness by their effulgence. It is the only light within the interminable darkness.

  Ghosts wander the streets of Hell, creeping unnervingly in all directions, taking pleasure in frightening those who serve time here under lock and key. A river of fire, and a wind as hot as the sun, prowl the boundary—apprehending any who have hope of escape. Because the rivers contain no water to drink, the captives unavoidably consume fire, which burns them from the inside out. Without this, they would surely die. Having no choice but to drink of it, despite its great punishment, they are bound to ingest the fire again and again— willing to suffer for the sake of living.

  From birth, the prisoners residing in this corner of Hell, live inside holes in the sand, like snakes. The Naga serpents rule, governing without question. They are cold, calculating, powerful, and very cruel. Acutely annoyed, irritated by the slightest inconvenience, they chastise randomly and without conscience. Some Nagas have many hoods, and according to their rank, the more heads they have, the more powerful they are—as light is upon their brow—and light is considered the greatest commodity in Hell for it is considered so rare.

  I felt a burning need to understand and investigate all that exists here, so I asked the High-Priest, “Where do these regions rest? Are they outside of our world? Are they inside of the earth? Or are they inside of us?”

  “Mary, these Hells are situated on the southern side of the creation, in the intermediate space between the three worlds and the ocean bordering Heaven. The seven islands of Hell are governed over by the King, his assistants and his agents, who receive the souls of those who were judged according to their sins on earth. Within each of these islands exist other dimensions, for sins are many. It is difficult to detail each person’s destination, however, I shall disclose to you the preeminent infernos for your learning.

  “The first kind of soul, is one who has stolen a man’s wife, children or family members. These sadistic souls are bound by the ropes of immorality and forcibly thrown into a Hell known as Tamas, where they are penalized by demonic angels who beat and rebuke them in the darkness of perpetual night. Starved, these souls are forced to work hard in extreme heat without food or water,” he explained with a pained stare.

  “The destination of a person who slyly enjoyed, whilst knowingly doing harm to someone’s spouse or children, is sent to a dimension within Tamas known as Andat. There, like a tree which has been cut at its roots, they are subjected to extreme miseries. The afflictions are so severe that they go blind, passing out from the pain which is too great to bear.

  “The fate of one who commits violence to the living in order to obtain money, suffers reactions on an island known as Raur,” he said, wincing, seeming visibly disturbed.

  “Those unfortunate souls who enter Raur are confronted with creatures known as Ruru. The Ruru are fearsome beasts who inflict relentless agony upon anyone sent to their lands. For every hair on the body of a man, woman, or beast, who suffered or was killed by their hand—they are tortured accordingly.

  “The infamous Ruru, possess sharp horns and are known as being even more cruel than Naga serpents. The Ruru are so notoriously vicious, that even the angels of death fear them. The condemned, wail in horror as their eyes are plucked out and used as balls for the Rurus’ play. Their guilty flesh is then ripped apart, eaten by the Ruru, while their souls do not die—their suffering persists without ceasing,” he said with a tremulous quiver, the pallor of his expression was of extreme terror.

  I shivered, thanking him for recalling such a mournful place for my sake.

  “One cannot fully explain to another what heat feels like, until and unless one experiences it—for heat has degrees . . . as does suffering, Mary” he said regrettably.

  “These foul people, who, for the satisfaction of their tongues, skinned animals and birds alive for their feathers, fur and leather—are here condemned to suffer great torture. Having murdered and eaten the flesh of beasts, fish, and fowl, here within Raur, they are condemned to terrifying punishments. Thrown into pots to be cooked in boiling oil, again and again, they undergo extreme pain—for as many hairs as were upon the bodies of those they had slain,” he said, clutching something in his closed palm.

  “Those who kill a human being are sent to the great Kal, which is a corner of Hell made of eight-thousand miles of copper, heated by fires from below. The surface of Kal is extremely hostile. Any soul unfortunate enough to be sent there, burns from the inside and out. Hungry, thirsty, and unable to bear the heat, the murderers—exhausted, fall upon the ground where they are scorched.

  “Charred and singed, they find no relief from their misery. Captive, they are held for as many thousands of years, as there were hairs on the body of each person killed by their hand. Promising to behave, they vow to observe the laws of the land, which they do, not so as to live correctly, but so as to avoid more suffering. But understand this—each situation promises a positive outcome Mary, so do not fix your mind upon the suffering . . . but upon the disease, which can be cured.

  “Next, there is an island known as Suk, where the leaders of earthly government and aristocratic classes are sent. This Hell is for those who dispensed unlawful punishment on someone innocent of their crimes. Upon their arrival, the most powerful agents of Hell crush them, exactly as one crushes sugarcane to extract its juice. The sinners cry out bitterly, like an innocent person. This is the result of punishing someone who was guiltless.”

  Shaking his head in disbelief, the High-Priest put something into one of the deep pockets in his robe. “It never ceases to astound me, all the ways in which people violate and covet one another. Evil-doing is lurking undetected behind so much that we think we see. Unseen, it assures sinners their preservation. Yet as we know, their tricks betray only themselves, for ultimately everyone is faced with the truth of their actions.

  “Those who kill or torment any small creature on earth, are taken to an island known as Andar Kul, where they are attacked by the bees, snakes, ants, wasps, hornets, and spiders that they tormented in life. Besieged from all sides, they are robbed of their sleep. Unable to rest, their souls wander about in the darkness suffering like ghosts.

  “Living like crows, they are forced to eat worms within a lake, eight-hundred-thousand miles wide. The entire lake is filled with worms. These miserly souls then take the form of a worm, to feed upon the worms who also feed on them. Unless such an arrogant person atones for their actions before death, they are sent there. Should I go on?” the High-Priest asked, evidently concerned that it might be too much for me to take in.

  “Yes . . . please go on,” I urged him, fascinated.

  “These are very grave places Mary, as they invoke an uneasiness by their portrayal—but I shall continue for your sake.

  “Thieves who gain money from wars which wage misery upon nature and the people of earth, are sent to a mountain called Sandamsa, to be flung from the top, into the valley far below, where they are then beaten with whips and chains. Smashed, ravaged by their crimes, they do not die. Rather, they again and again are forced to relive the suffering that they caused to others. War is abhorrent. It destroys life which is invaluable. Those miserable wretches who cause war, as well as those who participate in killing wit
hin them, must repay for each life taken and harmed by their offense.

  “Those who rip apart marriages for their own sexual pleasure, are taken to Tapta, to embrace fiery-hot iron shapes of men, women, and children—one after the other. Anguishing in their misfortune, they repent, and in great lamentation make vows to be chaste forever.

  “A man who indulges in rape, sex with children, or sex with animals, is taken to the island known as Rakant. There, a silk tree with sharp thorns as strong as thunderbolts, hang each sex offender upon its thorns, pulling them forcibly down, so that the thorns sever their flesh from bone. Pierced again and again in their private parts, little remains of them, but they do not die—their suffering just keeps on going. Again, they are forced to hang upon another tree and repeat their sufferings for as many moments as their victims strained for resolve.”

  There was a drowsy stillness to the air, so I sat down, inviting the High-Priest to sit beside me. I had grown used to our meetings and appreciated his wise cultivation and guidance. Seated side by side quietly, I considered all that I had observed and heeded by his counsel.

  “Those sacrilegious souls who dare to sacrifice animals and children upon the altars of Satan, Molek, and their minions—drinking their blood and enjoying carnal pleasure—such misdirected fools, fall into a river of Hell known as Vayat. Having drunk their victims’ blood, dancing in jubilation, even having sex with the dead—in Vayat are set upon by Naga serpents over and over again—without dying. The beasts eat their flesh and drink of their blood while they yet live.

  “Death causes such ignoble souls to suffer physical anguish, as well as shame. Having had their pride taken from them, as well as their blood—still they do not die. Constantly they are forced to remember their sins, sleeping in ravines filled with human waste—pus, semen, nails, bones, marrow, and fat. There, they live in a cursed place, without hope of mitigation or comfort of any kind, enduring precariously for a very long time.”

  “But why do people pray to deities of the darkness, more willingly than to Almighty God? What makes a soul want, from the maleficent devils? Surely people must understand their fate?” I asked.

  “They make pacts with the Devil to gain riches and powers on earth. They knowingly do so, heedful of their outcome,” he explained.

  I shook my head, perplexed by such insensibility.

  “These people are weak minded, Mary! They live for frivolity in the now, witlessly hasty to disregard the after-effect of their choices. Indeed it is difficult to understand.”

  Brooding over such considerations for a while, we sat together silently. The air was stagnant and somehow suspended in a slothful doldrum. Before I could ask him of it, he continued. “Those of aristocratic birth who are fond of taking their dogs and horses into the fields and forests to hunt and kill animals—are dragged into a Hell known as Preynod. There, the agents of death make them the target, piercing them with knives and arrows for every one of their evil, arrogant acts.

  “Having been proud of their eminent position in society, heedlessly sacrificing animals for material prestige, within Preynod they are forced to suffer many great sorrows for as many hairs as were upon the body of each beast they hunted—which is far more than any would wish to recount,” he said dryly.

  “A man who forcibly makes a woman drink his semen out of lust—is given punishment on an island known as Lalak. Thrown into a flowing river of semen, he is forced to drink,” he said, shying away from my eyes.

  I burst out laughing, breaking the awkwardness of it, and he threw back his head, chuckling, amused by my response.

  “Any members of royalty or government who ought to be caring for the people—caught misleading society, are brought to heel within a Hell known as Samad. Double-talking, they speak ambiguously with one mouth, while with another, commanding laws which swindle facility and health from the populace. These foulest of men, formulate schemes to cull humanity by releasing deadly plagues upon the people—only to steal from them when they are gone. Such cold-blooded leaders create laws with one hand, whilst breaking laws with the other.

  “The gentry then ally themselves with one another, driven by devilish irreligiosity. After death, seven-hundred-and-twenty wild dogs with teeth as strong as diamonds, voraciously devour these sinners. Their shame is absolute, for they feel no remorse. In death all is recounted, and winnowing—their pride is finally washed from their smug natures in the Hells of Samad,” he said cocking his head to one side, calling to mind what he has seen.

  “Then there are those who deceive and bear false witness in order to ruin the influence or prominence of any person in society—for the sake of financial or prideful gain. Caring nothing for the suffering of those who they harm, they are taken to the top of a great mountain eight-hundred-miles high, to be thrown head first into a Hell known as Mat.

  “Mat is made of stone resembling waves on water, though no water is there. The illusion of it drives the convicts mad with want. Thus they are thrown from the top of the mountain where their body breaks into pieces on the stone below. Still they do not die. Again and again they are forced to climb the mountaintop from which they fell—for as many moments as were suffered at the hands of their selfish misconduct. As the offenders climb the crest of Mat ridge, angels of death carrying whips and chains, chase them . . . hunting them down.”

  “People know not what they do,” I said despairingly.

  “Indeed Mary, if people had a glimpse to comprehend the keen grasp of the underworlds, no one would knowingly choose to trespass. Therefore we saw fit to bring you here, for the bottomless pits and everlasting fires may be avoided by dint of the wisdom you shall impart.

  “Let me continue,” he said, pausing reflectively. “A priest or spiritual leader who drinks liquor, poisons his rival, has sex with children, performs Satanic rituals, or misleads the people into thinking they are the authority on God—is taken by the agents of Hell, to Aya. Forced to drink hot melted iron, which is poured into their mouths, they grieve for the bad choices they made.

  “Anyone who has insulted, disrespected, or spread malicious lies about a person of saintly stature, is taken into a pit filled with salt in the valley of Aya. Their tongues are taken out from their body and in the salty paste they endure endless miseries—itching and burning in the flesh, ears, eyes, and bones, from the inside out. The Lord is especially unforgiving of their vengeful conduct, for the Saints are His dearest of friends.”

  Tears fell from my eyes as I recalled Jesu, whom I loved with all of my heart. I missed him. Every inch of my being yearned for his company. Everything was empty, bereft of his association.

  “Then there are those who are like envious serpents, always angry and devising plans to give pain unto others. Discrediting people’s reputation in the public arena and villages, to see them suffer—they curse and betray them in vicious ways. Such sinners who curse good and kind people to suffer, are also taken to Aya, where serpents with many hoods eat them—just as snakes eat a rat. In grand arenas before the rich and aristocratic families who preside over Hell, they are ridiculed again and again in the fires of their own poison. The fate of so many souls hangs upon lives wasted in deplorable choices.

  “Those who kidnap or confine any person or beast in dark enclosed places, are sent to a Hell known as Avat. Pushed into dark wells, poisonous fumes choke and suffocate them. They suffer for years like that without dying.

  “The world of the living is simple—it returns to us that which we reflect by our own will. Those who live like pigs—are born as swine in the next. While those who are like sheep—are born as lambs. Those who carry themselves like cocks—become cocks. So too do those who behave like the angels—come to live among them. These are just a few of the examples describing the limitless hellish situations souls choose to experience,” he expla
ined.

  “But what is the fate of those who are filled with slothfulness?” I asked. “I thought I would see their circumstance here in the seventh veil.”

  “Because they idled in sloth, having no goal and no wish for advancement—in the afterlife they are given nothing. The seventh Hell is that of incessant emptiness, which is found in the void. The boredom and hollow volitions born of being transferred to the abyss of purgatory, is where one is neither here nor there. Even the greatest scholars are confounded by it.

  “Slothful souls are not those who suffer with disease and are tired thereof. These are the souls of those who, without interest, in drowsy and drunken laziness, do nothing for themselves or for others. They are time wasters with no care or concern for anything. Steeped in ignorance, they live half-lives among the living, believing in nothing. Hence, they are given nothing in the afterlife.

  “But what is their fate?” I asked, yawning with half-lidded eyes.

  “They linger among the living, as ghosts, ambling through time listlessly without a purpose. They neither live, nor die. They are not seen by the living, nor are they acknowledged by the dead. The angels of Heaven ignore them, as do the angels of the shadowlands,” he said seemingly downhearted, as if something grave were upon his heart.

  “No matter how harsh the reality of these places may have been to my eyes, I am grateful to have seen the other side of these truths. But what happens then? Are these souls then returned to earth when their kismet has been repaid?”

  “Yes Mary, both pious and impious are again returned to earth after the results of their kismet are exhausted. Some sinners are moved by means of rotation, from one Hell to another, due to layer upon layer of wicked ungodliness, or a lack of repentance . . .” he said introspectively, eyes pricked with tears.

 

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