by Неизвестный
“Well you have seen me but you still haven't answered my question.”
“I did it because I had to. I couldn't let that man live another moment.”
“I warned you what would happen if you did it.”
“I know, but surely you are not going to spend the few moments we have together scolding me. What's done is done.”
Tears started to well in Alana's eyes.
“But how can I not think of what you did to bring us both to this place!” Alana could no longer stifle her weeping, and she began to sob uncontrollably. Neasán stood, turned from his wife, and ran over to the entrance of the cave.
“Has my punishment started already? Am I condemned to suffer the most gut-wrenching trial… my wife's tears? Come out! Come out and take me. I am close enough to death to enter!” As these words reverberated through the air, the ground started to tremble. The cave which had been in total darkness now started to shine from within, but it was not a bright, reassuring light that shone it was thick and oppressive all-consuming light. A blast of hot, searing air accompanied it. It thrust Neasán back nearly a hundred yards. He scrambled back onto his feet as quickly as an old man could and looked back towards the cave.
Both Alana and Neasán now heard a wailing coming from within. The wailing was the sound of human suffering so great, the pair had never heard the likes of it. It was as if millions of people had all called out together, voicing their agony and lamentation. After a few seconds the source of at least one voice appeared at the entrance of the cave. It was a man, or what they thought used to be a man. His body was twisted and misshapen, his skin and flesh had been burnt off. The tissue on both his cheeks had been cut away. As he ran past them you could see right through to the other side of his face. All over his body, through the scattered patches of flesh that still remained, you could see his bones. No living being could have endured such treatment. Despite this man’s mangled body, he was running as fast as he could, still making his Hellish sound.
Alana and Neasán’s attention was almost immediately brought back to the cave. The ground had again begun to shake, and another blast of hot air radiated from the opening. A scratching could be heard from deep within. The pair watched as they saw giant fingers grappling through the dirt and rock. A prodigious hand, then an arm, appeared and meandered out into the open air, like a snake being charmed out of a basket. It stretched out and plunged it’s fist deep into the earth below. Another arm quickly replicated this action, and the two arms pulled the rest of the creature's gargantuan body out through the entrance of the cave.
The colossal figure stood, unmarred by the previous event. Not even a speck of dirt had clung to this statuesque woman's skin. She was dressed elegantly in a scarlet toga tied around her waist with a golden cord. Her head was higher than any building; she was beautiful but her beauty had a hardness to it, not a purity like Alana’s. The giant began to speak.
“Xander,” she whispered, and her whispers could have deafened the whole world. Alana and Neasán covered their ears to block out her thunderous voice. The giant bent over and picked up the running man. “Xander,” she whispered again. “Foolish very foolish,” she continued. “You know you have to pay the price for your crimes, back to Hell with you!” Her voice, previously malevolent but whimsical, was now sterner as she threw the man back towards the cave’s entrance. As he drew nearer, flames licked out of the cave and caught him in their fiery talons.
He was sucked back into the depths of Hell never to be seen again.
The woman now looked around the ground below her and saw Alana and Neasán clutching each other.
“Did someone call me?” she asked, her voice melodious and menacing. Alana and Neasán did not let go of each other. “I take it I will have to make myself mortal sized, for you to talk to me. How tiresome.” The woman sighed. She shrank down to the height of six foot; any shorter would have been the ultimate indignity. “Now, you called?” she repeated.
Alana and Neasán kept close together, still shuddering. “If you don't answer me soon I am going to get very upset and, believe me, you don't want to make me upset.” Her voice became thunderous again.
This Hellish creature blew a cold breath over the pair which tore them apart. The Devil looked at Alana, realising instinctively the sort of creature she was, and said, “You are not of this world; you have passed on and belong to that place in the clouds. I don't wish to speak of that place. You have nothing to do with me.” Then, looking towards Neasán, she gave him her assessment. “But you are quite different… You are what has brought me here. What delicious crime did you commit?” Every gesture the Devilish creature made was filled with whimsy; she had a superior air, her demeanour, and the movement of her body flowed like a fine wine.
“What has happened to Xander?” Alana asked, finally gathering the courage to speak.
“Do not to speak to me, you are not my concern, your lofty status has made you beyond my reach and I do not feel the need to even converse with you,” the woman answered.
“Then I am asking. What happened to Xander?” Neasán cut in.
“I would not worry too much about him. Xander in life was quite the evil-doer. He used to cut the skin of his victims and eat it, whilst they were still alive.” The Hellish woman looked over towards Alana, licked her red luscious lips and then snapped her jaw shut in a threatening manner. Alana jumped in response; the woman smiled and continued talking. “Now he is forced eat his own flesh over and over again… Poor dear, we have been looking for him for a while. He had hidden by the entrance and ran as soon as it opened. He’s an idiot he has been with us long enough to know you can't just run away from Hell. A higher power dictates that what you do to others in life is returned to you for eternity. If only people understood that when they were they were alive. Now to you. What malevolent acts have you committed?” the Devil asked.
Alana started to sob again. This irritated the Devil. She stood up and bellowed. "It was lucky you behaved yourself in your life; I could not have listened to that constant sobbing. If you had come into my realm I would have ripped out your vocal chords." Her voice again had a sinister edge.
“Who are you?” Neasán asked, amazed at the womanly guise of this creature.
“Who am I?” This turn in the conversation distracted the Devil from Alana. She was slightly insulted by the question but Neasán had sensed that this creature liked to talk about herself.
“My name is Belial; I was the most beautiful of all the angels. I was revered and treasured among them, but I cannot be told what to do. So very unfairly,” the creature looked down at her dress and coyly started to adjust it, as if she was a child who had been caught being disobedient. “I was cast out of that place…” She paused, and threw a threatening look at Alana. “Such a harsh punishment for such a small crime, but I do not punish small crimes in my realm. Now what is yours, before we descend into my own little kingdom?”
“I have come here to plead for salvation.” Neasán said.
“You have come to the wrong place. I do not hear pleas of salvation. Asking you what your crime was is just simple curiosity; it will not change your fate.”
“You will not hear me then?” Neasán asked.
“What is the point? That holy creature over there certainly thinks you should be in Hell; I can read her thoughts. She regrets it but she thinks you deserve to go to Hell with the other… murderers. Ah, so you murdered someone. How delicious, murder is certainly a crime worthy of Hell.”
“It was not murder!” Neasán shouted.
“Did you kill a man?” Belial asked.
“I did.”
“Then it is murder. Worthy of Hell. Punishable by me.” Belial answered gleefully.
“Will you hear me?”
Belial sighed, "I will hear you but only because the creature over there thinks it's pointless. I love to defy her kind, but be warned, murder is murder, and should be punished. I am sure your religious teachings have taught you that."
“They have. I know by my own religion that I am condemned, but that is why I have come here. I think my teachings are wrong.”
Alana uttered a shocked sigh on hearing these words. “That is blasphemy,” she whispered. Belial began to laugh.
“So judgmental. You should have brought a better witness. She thinks you should be condemned for your blasphemy as well. Tell me this story of yours, as your narration will annoy the self-righteous one in the corner,” Belial said, glancing contemptuously at Alana.
“It was forty years ago.” Neasán began. "The girl sitting over there was my wife and I was not much more than a boy. I was working late every night to get some extra money. Alana and I were going to start a family, and we needed all the money we could get.
“I am getting bored,” Belial interrupted. “I don't want to hear about your trivial existence; I want to know about your sin. Get to the good part and do it quickly as I have people to torture and souls to torment.”
Neasán sighed and continued. “Alright, I beat a man to death with my bare hands!”
Belial smiled. This is what she wanted to hear.
“Continue… fill in some detail, if you must.” Belial said blithely. Murder was a crime she liked to hear about; after being told the story, her imagination would run wild thinking of a fitting punishment for the man before her.
“A newcomer to our village had taken an interest in Alana,” Neasán continued. “At first we thought he was just being slightly inappropriate and flirtatious… nothing more than that. Alana thought it would stop if she ignored it, but it didn't. I confronted him - told him to leave my wife alone. He said he would, and even apologized, and we thought that was the end of that. But it wasn't, his attentions now grew distant and sinister; he studied her from afar, unnerving Alana whenever she was out in public. He was constantly watching her, constantly staring, unnerving Alana wherever she went. A month later it was getting worse. One night Alana came running through the front door of our house. She was frightened and hysterical, saying he had followed her home. He hadn't harmed her yet, but the threat was always there. I told her from now on I would walk her home. I told her to wait for me every night until I had finished work and then we would walk home together. He would grow tired of following her, and forget about his pursuit when he knew there was no way to get to her.
Night after night, I went to pick her up from the estate house where she worked as a servant and we walked home together. The first few nights he followed us, I was enraged, and tired of ignoring him. I decided to confront him. Alana was terrified I would go too far and hurt him. After all, she said he had not done anything, and that it was not our job to judge. Despite her protests, I confronted him anyway. Alana was with me. We walked a few steps and waited for him to start following. I heard the heavy bangs of his steps as they struck the cobbled street behind us. That was my sign to confront him. I freed myself from Alana's tight grip and ran towards him. Alana chased after me, begging and pleading me not to touch him, but my blood was up. He wasn't skulking around her any longer. I grabbed him and flung him back against the wall. He made no sound but I knew that I had hurt him. I held him back so he could not move. His expression did not change; he just turned his head slowly and started to stare at Alana. I pulled him forward, and then threw him back against the wall again. This time, a drop of blood appeared behind his head, and trickled down the wall. Again I pulled him in close and pounded him back again. He should have at least winced but there was nothing, no reaction. Nothing distracted his gaze from Alana.
I wanted to see something; some sign that he would heed my threat. He just kept staring at Alana. ‘Stop it,’ I shouted, banging him again and again against the wall. Alana was terrified I would kill him, and she grabbed my arm, begging me to stop. I eventually listened to her, leaned into him and said, ‘she is my wife; you will never so much as touch her.’ At this he looked at me for the first time and said. ‘You are wrong.’ Alana could now hear people running towards us; obviously they had heard the commotion. She dragged me away, and as she did so, the severely beaten man fell to the ground. I reluctantly ran, but just before I was out of sight I looked back. He was smiling at me as if he knew he would get to her eventually. Alana had been frightened that night, but her fear wasn’t for the man; she didn't care about him. She was frightened for me. She realized that if this man ever harmed her in any way I would kill him and condemn my immortal soul.”
“The hypocrisy of religion.” Neasán looked at the ground in disgust.
“You are drifting again.” Belial stated, exasperated. "I have no interest in your philosophies of life."
“Alright,” Neasán continued. “A few months later Alana was pregnant. I was still walking Alana home every night, although there had been no sign of the man since the beating. A year had passed and both of us were starting to feel safer but we both should have never have let our guards down. One night when I was supposed to walk her home, I was late. Sick of waiting, Alana had started to make her way home alone. The streets were dark and silent. All Alana could hear were her own footsteps. Then, when she was nearly home, a chilling sound emerged. The light tap of her own steps were now echoed by the gruff thud of someone following her. Alana began to run, and as she did so, she could hear the quickening of the steps behind her. She didn't turn around, she didn't have to; she knew who it was. Alana kept telling herself, Just a few steps from home, just a few steps from home, and after a few seconds she could see her front door. She stretched out her hand, and grasped at the doorknob, hoping her hand would reach it, as she knew that as soon as she touched it she would be safe. The next grasp would do it… one more step and she would be home. She had nearly got there. The tips of her fingers reached out and touched the knob of the door. As her hands gently caressed it, she was suddenly pulled back. She was thrust back abruptly to face him; he was so close to her she could feel his hot breath on her face.” Neasán stopped abruptly. “I can't think about it anymore than that. My mind won't let me, I remember the state she was in, left beaten and raped at the front door of our home.” Neasán paused again; he had imagined the attack on his wife so many times but he had never gone further than this. It was too painful for him.
“When I arrived home she was lying on our bed. Her baby had been born and was lying dead in a bloody blanket in the corner. She was crying, not vehemently. Tear after tear trickled gently down from her eyes, smarting her wounded face. She was dying; I could hardly bring myself to look at her. I didn't want to speak to her, but her mother motioned to me that she wanted to speak with me, one last time.
I crept over to her bedside. My eyes lowered to the ground, I did not want to see evidence of the savage attack she had been through. But then she began to speak to me. As the gentle voice I loved so much reached my ear, I looked up at my beloved one last time.”
“I wanted to speak to you because I know what you will do. You will go out and hunt this man down and kill him, but I am pleading with you, this is not what I want you to do. I want us to be together with our child in the next world, and if you do what I know is in your mind we will never be together again. You will be damned… I know it.”
“I hear you Alana. I understand your words but I cannot live in this world knowing he is still alive. He will suffer as you have. And, if there is a God in heaven that is so self-righteous that he will condemn me for my actions, then so be it. I will face the consequences of them.”
“He will be punished but not by you. This is your test Neasán.” Alana pleaded.
“No Alana. He is going to suffer as you have. I will not hear any more.”
“I left, knocking over the chair I was sitting on. I went out into the street and found the man who had done this to my wife. When he saw me he laughed at me. Blood from my wife’s body was still engrained on his fingers. He stood there mocking me, I couldn’t stand it. I grabbed him and pounded his face into the stone wall of our home, again and again. When he fell back after the last blow I saw two of his
teeth deeply embedded in the wall. I knew I had killed him.”
Neasán had finished his story.
“Did your Irish justice punish you?” Belial asked.
“No, everyone was sympathetic. I got away with it but through the years my wife's words have echoed in my ears, and that is why I am here to face my punishment and accept the consequence of my actions.”
“Are you sorry for what you have done?” Belial asked.
“No, I am not sorry he is dead. I would have done it again. My only sorrow is that I will not spend eternity with Alana.”
“Hmm… and it is up to me to judge you.” Belial pondered.
“You must do whatever you see fit.” Neasán answered.
“Oh I will.” Belial got up and turned from the couple; she thought for a moment and turned around sharply. A beautiful, menacing glance occupied her face.
“My decision is this; I am not a judge… I am a punisher. I leave judgment to the sanctimonious ones up there,” Belial said motioning up to the Heavens. “The so-called good who are so quick to judge others. I won't take you with me; I will grant you a second chance.” With these words his body fell from its perch on the rock and an essence only visible to Alana and Belial travelled up through the air, it climbed higher and higher over the green hills of Rathcroghan and was swept over the blue Irish Sea; towards the murky Mersey and Liverpool Bay. The essence then began to plummet downwards to the homes of dock workers, and then floated through a bedroom window. Finally, it disappeared into the crying mouth of a newborn baby.
After Alana had watched the essence disappear she said to Belial. “Thank you so much; he is a good man with only one sin to blight him.”
“You were so sure he deserved to be punished, so sure he would have to accompany me to Hell.”
“I was but I am grateful that you spared him the horrors of Hell.”
“Don't be so gushing with your gratitude; as I told you before, I do not judge, I am a punisher. I devise punishments for those I encounter. Do you not realize what I have given…? A second chance; a second chance to love. He will forget you. He will find a more worthy one to love.”