by Scott Reeves
From the sidelines, Jason watched helplessly as the conflagration obscured his friends from view. Their screeches drilled into his ears, and he curled in on himself, sobbing.
After minutes that seemed like hours, the creatures closed their mouths, biting back their tongues of flame. Jason sat up, watching as the flames dousing Mike, Stacy and Paula instantly died out, revealing their smoking forms lying on the stony ground. They were completely naked; their clothing had been burned away, along with their hair. But their skin bore absolutely no sign of trauma. No blisters, just a slight redness. Streamers of smoke rose from their flesh, quickly dying to wisps. A bubbling puddle of molten slag on the ground next to Mike marked where his flashlight had fallen when his clothing had vaporized.
They slowly stood.
Their eyes were wide, wild. Seeing the vacant looks in their eyes, Jason feared their minds had been burned away along with everything else. But no. Awareness quickly returned, welling back up from whatever dark recess it had retreated to and flooding into their eyes.
“You have been baptized,” one of the creatures intoned.
“Come,” another said, one of those near the tunnel mouths along the far wall. “The lake of fire awaits.”
The three friends didn’t move until the two creatures advanced threateningly. Then they turned and began limping toward the tunnels. Jason wiped his eyes, scrubbing away the evidence of his tears, and hurried over to them.
Mike turned to look at Jason. “Can I have my underwear back, dude?” he asked.
Jason smiled at him and threw a companionable arm around his friend’s shoulder. But he didn’t give the underwear back.
CHAPTER EIGHT – Into Hell
THEIR GUARDS PRODDED them into the tunnel on the right. It was much narrow than the tunnels above. They had to duck their heads to avoid scraping the ceiling, even Stacy, who was just a little over five feet tall. The tunnel also sloped down at a steep angle, so between having to half-crouch and step gingerly since they had no shoes to protect their sensitive feet, it was slow going. Their guards had no trouble negotiating the tunnel, of course; being so low to the ground provided them with extra stability on the slope as well as keeping them clear of the ceiling.
The air grew increasingly hotter. Sweat soon broke out on their naked bodies, glistening in the flickering light from the guards’ torches.
“Shouldn’t it be getting colder the further we go down?” Stacy asked.
“Not really,” Jason said. “Caves are cooler because they’re closer to the surface. Mines are warmer. But this is a bit ridiculous. I don’t think it should be anywhere near this hot.”
“Do you not know of Hell on the ssssurfaccce?” asked on of the creatures.
“Well, sure we do,” Paula said. “But it’s a myth.”
“It issss no myth,” said the creature. “Where do you think we are taking you? You are going to Hell.” The creatures laughed as if at a private joke. It was harsh laughter, sinister and laced with violence, like the laughter of a serial killer.
“This place just gets better and better,” Mike muttered.
The screams grew louder as well, a multitude of droning shrieks and tremulous moans of agony, like the wailing of damned souls, echoing from some distant place further down the tunnel.
As they trudged ever downward, one of the creatures skittered up behind Stacy. It reached out an unnaturally long, bony arm and fondled one of Stacy’s breasts from behind. Only for an instant; she shrieked and leapt away as though she’d been scalded with boiling water. The creature retracted its limb and snickered. “Perhaps I ssshall partake of your flesssh before you’re put into the lake,” the creature hissed at her.
Jason folded her into his arms, glaring at the creature.
“Could you tell us a little about this place?” Mike asked, hoping to distract the creatures as well as his friends. “Who dug these tunnels? Who lived in those rooms up above?”
“It is sssaid that the ancestors carved the tunnelsss,” one of the creatures said, surprising Mike with its conversational tone and willingness to talk. “The Beasssst called to the Lord from below, and the Lord caussssed the tunnelsss to be dug. For a hundred yearssss after they were trapped, they dug their way down, down. Finally they came to the Beast, and it hassss been preparing usss for the Kingdom of Heaven ever sssincccce.”
Mike and the others were silent, digesting that. He pieced together what he thought he knew: Nigel’s ancestors had shut the bronze door and sealed it, trapping someone named the Lord inside along with some other people, and they had dug down to... what? The Beast? Hell? Preparing people for Heaven?
“It’s preposterous,” Jason muttered, apparently thinking along the same lines as Mike.
Mike nodded at the sentiment. “People living down here for a thousand years, trapped by Nigel’s ancestors? Ridiculous.”
“And yet here we are,” Stacy said.
By the time the slope leveled out about an hour later, Jason estimated they had descended at least two miles. Added to the half mile they had already descended at the elevator, the surface, the world of light, seemed impossibly far away. The weight of the Earth above their heads pressed down on their senses, crushing their hope of escape.
The tunnel continued onward, straight and level, toward a square of light in the distance. The light turned out to be more molten rock raining from high above. The tunnel ended at another wide chasm, perhaps five hundred feet across. They stopped on the lip at the tunnel’s end, watching and occasionally dancing aside to avoid being splattered as the white-hot bubbles of liquefied rock rained down into the depths. And they were deep depths indeed. Far, far below, perhaps a mile down, a narrow ribbon of yellow magma coursed along the bottom of the chasm, like a river of fire. Up above soared swarms of monstrous fire-breathers like their guards, spitting fire at the ceiling of the chasm, melting the rock, burning upward.
“What are they doing?” Mike asked the creature who had seemed willing to talk.
“Burning a path to the ssssurfacccce,” the creature said. “Preparing the way for the Beasssst.” It refused to elaborate.
“Yeah, but,” Jason said, “you guys can’t get out, am I right? You’re sealed in.” He swallowed as he said it. It was such an easy thing to say, now. Much easier than it had been when he’d first passed through the bronze door. Then, it had been a laughable notion. Now, after all that had happened, he had to admit the truth of it.
“The sssseal will ssssoon be removed,” the talkative creature said. “The tool to remove it is now inside with us.”
“Nigel!” Stacy whispered, nudging Jason. “He means Nigel! He must still be alive!”
“No more talk!” one of the other creatures hissed. With that, two of the creatures grabbed Stacy between them and leapt into the chasm. She screamed as they plummeted, freefalling, for a few hundred feet. Jason helplessly watched as she fell toward the molten river far below. But at last the creatures spread their wings and flapped away into the depths of the chasm with her dangling between them.
One of the guards threw back its head and bellowed a series of unintelligible chittering squawks that echoed out into the chasm. Then it and another of the creatures grabbed Paula and flew away with her, following Stacy’s flight path.
Jason and Mike stared at the lone remaining guard. They exchanged a look, each realizing this was the only opportunity they might get to break free. The creature sneered at them, probably aware of the gist of their thoughts.
But just as they were tensing, preparing to leap upon the remaining creature, three more swooped down from the heights of the chasm and lit on the lip of the tunnel. Barely pausing for breath, two of them grabbed Mike and launched, flapping away after Paula. The remaining two took Jason.
His stomach rose into his throat as gravity seemed to disappear and the wind whipped past him. The river of magma zoomed perilously closer in a matter of seconds. Then he lurched upward a bit and experienced a bone-jarring snap as the creatures sp
read their wings, yanking him violently sideways into a horizontal flight path. Their fingers dug painfully into his wrists where they gripped him. He dangled between them with his arms outstretched and above his head, in a crude semblance of crucifixion. His arms felt like they were going to rip from their sockets.
From his viewpoint, the world swung back and forth like a pendulum and bobbed up and down as he dangled between the creatures. The immense drop beneath him threatened to sick him up, but he fought the bile down. Far ahead, he could see Mike swinging between his own captors, and far beyond her, as small as three ants, he could see Paula and her guards.
The chasm curved sharply as they raced along through the air. The ceiling came lower, lower, and his guards descended with it, until at last they were rushing along with Jason’s toes just inches from the boiling river of magma at the chasm’s bottom. At last the chasm became a tunnel, barely high enough to allow the creatures to fly. An intensely hot wind battered Jason, and the smell of tar and sulfur burned his nasal passages. The tunnel curved, just as the chasm had. To Jason, both the tunnel and the chasm seemed to be tracing out a huge circle.
Jason couldn’t say exactly how the long flight through the tunnel lasted. But he doubted it could have been more than five minutes. After that, the tunnel abruptly opened out into an enormous cavern. Upon hurtling from the tunnel mouth, his captors made a sickeningly sharp turn that swung them a full one hundred and eighty degrees. They swooped down and lit on a narrow shelf of rock that ran around the rim of the entire cavern.
Jason dropped to his knees as they released him. He let his arms fall limply to his sides. From the blinding pain in his shoulders, he wasn’t sure that his arms hadn’t been dislocated.
He sighed in relief as he saw that Mike, Stacy and Paula were all nearby on the narrow shelf, each lost in their own private agonies.
Every breath seemed to ignite in his lungs. God, but the air was hot, like fire! Sweat rolled down his skin, all over his body. It dripped into his eyes, obscuring his vision with a watery, stinging haze. Through that haze, he looked out over the cavern. His captors hadn’t lied about taking them to the lake of fire. For the immense cavern was filled with a lake of fire, everywhere, to the limits of his vision, a bubbling sea of molten rock. Flames exploded into life on its surface as the very air caught fire. They danced around briefly before dying out, to be immediately replaced by new flame. The cavern ceiling was pocked with several huge, dark, circular openings that must have been vents or chimneys to the surface, to release the immense heat being generated by the lake. If not for those vents, Jason suspected the whole place would have exploded from the thermal pressure.
And there were people in the lake, people beyond counting, either standing or treading lava. Probably standing, Jason figured. So the lake couldn’t be very deep. They twisted in agony as they were boiled alive. Flames licked their skin. Exploding bubbles of magma doused them with gobs of molten rock. But the fire didn’t consume them. That was the most horrific part of it. They were being burned alive, but they weren’t granted the mercy of death. Their skin was invulnerable to fire, but their nerves weren’t. And so they screamed, great shrieks of agony ripped from the depths of their souls as they burned, shrieks and wails that echoed through the tunnels. This was what he and the others had heard, high above.
They truly had gone to Hell.
He fell forward, sobbing uncontrollably, and vomited onto the rocky shelf.
CHAPTER NINE - Diabolus
MIKE, STACY AND PAULA came over and huddled close to Jason, trying to comfort him. They’d had a few more moments to come to grips with their new surroundings than Jason had.
When he’d gotten over being sick, he stood on shaky legs, sweat pouring down his naked body, and the four of them shared a brief hug. Their escorts stayed nearby.
“Such a touching sight,” a voice said from somewhere above them. It was a booming voice, surprisingly loud amidst the cacophony of screams and the heavy, liquid pops of bursting lava bubbles and the crackling rumble of flames.
The four friends looked up. A muscular naked man with reddish flesh was descending a steep slope that led up to a long ledge about halfway up the hellish cavern wall. The ledge would provide a good vantage point from which to look out over the entire cavern.
The man reached the bottom of the slope, stepped onto the rocky shelf and approached. He was completely hairless, and an impressive membrum dangled between his legs, swinging back and forth like a pendulum as he walked. He was easily seven feet tall, with broad shoulders and sinewy muscles. His reddish flesh glistened with a fine layer of sweat.
The creatures that had escorted the four friends bent their elongated limbs, bringing them even closer to the ground, and pressed their foreheads against the rocky shelf, prostrating themselves before the newcomer.
He strode imperiously up to the friends and stopped. “I am Diabolus. For all intents and purposes, I am lord of this place.” He circled them, looking them over from head to foot. He stopped behind Stacy. Without warning, he slapped her naked buttocks, causing her to squeal in surprise. “Flesh this magnificent could not help but give birth to a corrupt mind, and tempt other flesh.” Seeking confirmation, he looked sidelong at Jason, who clenched his fists and glowered at the man. Diabolus nodded. “Tempt other flesh indeed.” He beckoned to one of the prostrate creatures.
“Yes, Lord,” the creature said, responding to the gesture. It skittered over, grabbed Stacy and hauled her up into the air.
The whole event happened so swiftly and unexpectedly that neither Jason nor the other two had time to react. Belatedly, Jason leapt at the space where Stacy had been an instant ago, grabbing at her. But by that time she was ten feet in the air. Jason reached up after her, trying to catch an ankle, perhaps to halt her ascent, perhaps to be hauled up with her. But it was too late.
The creature hauled her out over the lake of fire, its great leathery wings beating at the hot air. Ten feet below her dangling, thrashing legs, the flames crackled, the lava bubbled and the mass of tortured people writhed.
Near the center of the lake, directly beneath one of the large, darkened circular maws in the cavern ceiling that must have been some sort of air vent, a chimney to the surface, the creature released her. Screaming, she dropped down into the lava and the flames, disappearing among the mass of humanity.
“No!” Jason screamed.
Mike growled and hurled himself at Diabolus. But he never made contact. One of the creatures, moving like lightning, rushed in from the side and tackled him. Momentum carried them both off the shelf and into the sea of lava. The tormented people they struck fell aside, scattered like bowling pins. Jason had a last glimpse of Mike and the creature struggling, as the creature lashed out with its tail, stinging Mike numerous times in quick succession. Then they both sank from view.
Paula screamed and rushed to the edge of the rocky shelf and reached out, clutching desperately at the air as though she could pull him out with the sheer strength of her will.
But of course she couldn’t, and she slumped to the ground, sobbing at her own helplessness.
The creature that had intercepted Mike burst from the lava seconds later. Its leathery wings carried it high into the air on a curving arc that took it deeper into the cavern, until it was lost from sight.
Almost on its heels, Mike shot from the lava like a surfacing diver, gasping for breath. He struggled to stay afloat, shrieking, his face twisted in agony as the flames danced along his nerves. He thrashed out wildly at the people around him, trying to clear a way to the safety of the shelf. But they were lost in the haze of their own pain. They absorbed his blows without any sign that they had noticed. What was one more pain when you were being burned alive?
Paula pulled herself from her own sorrow to reach out to him, urging him to come to her, to fight his way to shore. Two of the winged creatures skittered over, obviously ready to repel Mike should he successfully make it to the shelf. To them, he was now just another
damned soul in the lake of fire.
Jason looked on impassively. His mind, driven by the sheer insanity of the situation and his helplessness to do anything about it, had retreated into a strange bubble of detachment. He looked along the shelf, followed it around the cavern with his eyes. Everywhere he looked, he noted the skittering winged creatures on the shelf, standing guard over the people twisting in the lake. Any time one of them got near the shore and tried to climb out of the flames, they were brutally and mercilessly kicked, shoved, or beat back in. Jason witnessed several such failed attempts at escape in the few seconds it took him to survey the cavern.
Diabolus beckoned to Jason. “Come, my friend. You shall dine with me, and tell me how the world has changed since we have been down here.” He strode back toward the sloping path, not looking to see if Jason was following but supremely confident that he would.
Jason looked at Paula. Even as he opened his mouth to ask her to come with him, one of the nearby creatures reached over and shoved her. He watched as she toppled, startled, into the lava. He continued watching for a moment as she bobbed near the shelf with the ebb and flow of the lake, shrieking. Awareness fled from her eyes, consumed by the flames of agony.
He turned away and trudged after Diabolus, his mind numb.
PAULA SHRIEKED. PAIN tore through her mind, searing through her bones and licking at her very soul. In an instant of lucidity, she was aware of Jason walking away from the lake, following the red-skinned man. Then the soul-scorching agony burned away the image, along with all knowledge of who Jason was.
She twisted, she thrashed, she bobbed upward trying to escape the lava and the pain. But there was no escape. However she moved, she could not shake the flames or the molten rock.