by R W Sowrider
Rowen turned to Aphrodite. “Was that the Pink Doe Princesses?”
“Yup. Among others.”
“And that last guy, was that Felix?”
“Yup.”
“Wow. Felix seems to be the same old douche, but the ladies sure seemed happy to see me.”
“How could they not be?”
“Hm?”
“You saved them. Don’t you remember?”
“Really?”
“Yeah, you got them on Delemor’s list. If not for that, they’d be burning in Hell right now.”
Rowen couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “So I actually did some good.”
“It depends on how you look at it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Among other endeavors, Tatyana went on to run a sleazy brothel in her later years while Svetlana swindled a fortune out of her husband and fled to France with another man.”
“Yikes.”
“Perhaps. It doesn’t really matter though as they already had get-out-of-Hell-free cards.”
Engrossed in the conversation, it took Rowen a second to realize that they had just washed ashore. He looked around to discover a tiny, picturesque island with black sand, a scattering of white conch shells, and a pair of reclining beach chairs facing a translucent orb.
“Care to have a look?”
“Yes, please!” Rowen replied, exuberantly. “At what, exactly?”
“At Hell. How does the 4th Circle sound?”
Rowen was unsure how to reply. “Good?”
“Care for a drink?” Aphrodite asked as Rowen settled into the heavenly recliner.
“Yes, please!”
Aphrodite handed him a frozen pina colada-looking drink complete with mini-umbrella decoration.
As Rowen took a sip of the divine beverage, what appeared to be a live feed of a small section of the 4th Circle of Hell began streaming on the orb.
The first thing that grabbed Rowen’s attention was the river. Or what at first glance appeared to be a river, but instead of flowing with water, was raging with fire. It was gushing with liquid flames that whirled and seethed, lashed and spewed.
“Pyramos,” Aphrodite said. “It means river of flames. This one encompassing the 4th Circle is called the Pyramos Culus.”
Rowen nodded blankly.
“There are some unspeakably bad people here,” Aphrodite said.
Rowen’s eyes widened as he finally nodded in understanding.
On the bank of this section of the river was a steep hill. Three quarters of the way up, a tortured soul was pushing a boulder that was at least three times his size.
“I don’t deserve this,” the flabby, balding man lamented as he inched the boulder up. “I was just trying to be cool.”
Beads of sweat gushed out of every pore in his body as a hot sun beat down from directly overhead.
He groaned with each step. “Ouch,” he cried, stepping on a jagged thorn. “Fuck,” he cried, stepping on a rusty nail. “Ouch,” he cried again, stepping on barbed wire.
In his wake was a stream of blood trickling all the way down to the river of fire.
Making matters worse was a flock of vultures hovering around him, pecking at his legs, back, and neck whenever his pace slowed.
“This isn’t fair,” he whined.
His attitude changed, however, when he finally saw the ray of hope that was the top. “Take that!” he cried, giving the boulder a final push over the ridge and onto the nearly flat summit.
The boulder came to a stop on the edge and the desperate soul let out an enormous sigh of relief.
Respite, however, was not in the cards as an ever so slight gust of wind blew, causing the boulder to teeter back over the edge and before the tortured soul could react, it was too late.
“No! No! No!” he cried, fruitlessly holding up his hands.
As the boulder slowly rolled over the pathetic soul crushing every inch of him, he let out a torrent of profanities and blood-curdling shrieks.
Rowen couldn’t help but wince and feel pity. “What did he do?”
“Well, it might be difficult for you to understand at this point in your journey,” Aphrodite replied. “But here goes. Whenever a scandal takes place on Earth, there are certain people who name it by attaching the word ‘gate’ to the end of a key word relating to the scandal.”
“Gate?”
“It’s a reference to a famous scandal known as Watergate. ”
Rowen nodded blankly.
“Anyway, even though it’s been done to death, they think they’re being extremely clever. Like they’ve just coined a new phrase and everyone’s gonna fall down at their feet and start worshipping their brilliance.”
“You’re right,” Rowen said. “I don’t really follow, but I have a feeling that guy is exactly where he should be. Is it okay if I go down there and spit on him?”
“Your heart is in the right place, Rowen,” Aphrodite said, patting his knee. “But I’m afraid that’s not possible at this time.”
A little further down the Pyramos Culus was an absolutely horrific sight.
At first, Rowen thought that he was looking at a hulking demon dancing by himself. The enormous being had the head of a black bull with massive gleaming horns made of obsidian, the body of a herculean giant with bulging sinewy muscles, and the powerful hind legs and surprisingly silky tail of a great steed.
Upon further inspection, Rowen noticed that the beast was having its way with a tortured soul a mere fraction of its size.
With each thrust into the man’s backside, the demon let out a fearsome grunt as steam shot out of its flaring nostrils and its rippling muscles flexed.
Despite looking like a rag doll devoid of all life, with each thrust he received, the tortured soul let out an ear-splitting cry.
“Oh my God, this is awful,” Rowen gasped.
“Hold on,” Aphrodite said. “It looks like he’s about to climax.”
As the beast gave a final thrust and let out a long, satisfied grunt, the man was launched high into the air and landed half a football field away.
Upon recovering from its orgasm, the demon retrieved the limp soul, dragged him back to the designated area, and tossed him on the ground. “Your turn, Meezlebub.”
It was at this point that Rowen realized that there was a line as long as the eye could see of demons of all shapes and sizes waiting their turn.
The one called Meezlebub was in the form of a degenerate human with long oily hair, salt-and-pepper stubble, and a tattered hoody zipped halfway down.
“Wow, this is truly horrible,” Rowen said as Meezlebub began his session by fondling the tortured souls’ genitalia. “Is this one of those ironic punishments where the guy is being raped in Hell because he raped people while on Earth?”
“No,” Aphrodite replied, flatly. “This guy is here because he wore one of those irritating fedora hats all the time.”
Rowen was taken aback. “A fedora hat?”
“Yeah, you know fedora hats, right? The ones with soft brims and indented crowns that are pinched on both sides near the front?”
“Oh yeah, I saw some pictures of those.”
“They were repulsive eyesores when they were first invented and grew even more repugnant with time. By the early 21st century, not only were they painful to look at, but only the douchiest of douchebags wore them.”
Rowen nodded. “Makes sense.”
“Yeah,” Aphrodite continued. “Now you’ll find many of those fashion/personality offenders living out eternity here in the 4th Circle.”
Further still along the Pyramos Culus was a gangly teenager with a curly red afro. He was lounging on a couch in front of a TV.
“It doesn’t seem like this guy’s got it too bad,” Rowen observed.
“Just watch.”
The rangy redhead was watching a professional basketball game and out of nowhere he went ballistic, standing up and screaming at the television.
“You’re suc
h a loudmouth, pompous, self-absorbed douche!”
“Whoa,” Rowen gasped. “Where’d that come from?”
Aphrodite smiled. “He’s being forced to watch games nonstop with the most irritating commenter ever.”
“Nobody gives a shit how you did things in your day!” the lanky ginger shouted, spittle flying everywhere. “You weren’t a God. You were just really fuckin’ tall!”
Rowen couldn’t help but snicker at the boy’s over-the-top indignation.
The kid stood up and kicked the TV. “A nice cross-over move is NOT one of the true marvels in the history of Western Civilization, you half-witted bigfoot!”
Aphrodite smiled again. “The poor bastard doesn’t even see the irony. As punishment for a lifetime of atrocities, Bill Walton the brash, young teenager is being forced to watch his future self, Bill Walton the abominable color commentator, and he’s so blind to his own ugliness that he can’t tell that he’s watching his future self.”
“No, asswipe!” the boy screamed, bashing his head against the TV, blood trickling down his face. “You’re the sad human being! You’re the embarrassment to basketball!! YOU’RE THE DISGRACE!!!”
“Rowen!” Delemor boomed. “Quit wanking it to the deplorables. They’re not there for your enjoyment. They’re there because they were human excrement. Now get back in here so we can discuss your next life.”
Rowen flashed Aphrodite a that-dude’s-gonna-beat-my-ass-with-a-switch-if-I-don’t-get-back-there-asap look. “I’d better get going,” he said, scrambling out of the lounge chair, down the beach, and into the water.
As he drifted toward Delemor’s chamber, he contemplated his most recent life as well as what he had seen in the 4th Circle of Hell.
It was clear to him that he had lived a morally questionable life. Yet at the time, he had not felt in the least like a sinner. If anything, he had felt that he was honest while almost everyone else was a hypocrite. Further, neither he nor the ladies from his harem had wound up in Hell.
Sure, he had only seen examples of three people suffering in that wretched place, but none of them seemed to be there for debauchery. But of course it was a very small glimpse of the 4th Circle, and there were at least three more most likely for other types of sinners.
It was too little information to draw any conclusions, but at least he had done something right to avoid Hell this time and to have another crack at life and therefore another crack at Empyrean.
Finally back in the chamber and sitting reverentially on his heels across from Delemor, Rowen squinted at the luminous God trying to make sense of his physical and mental makeup.
With each trip to Verixion, Rowen was able to acclimate to his surroundings a little better as he became familiar with the environment, creatures, and Gods.
Yet Delemor was an enigma.
Through the radiant light beaming from behind him, Rowen was now able to make out rough scales on Delemor’s snout as well as fearsome, jagged teeth jutting out in seemingly random directions. And perhaps it was the randomness of those razor-sharp chiclets that made them so fearsome.
But on the other hand, the look in Delemor’s eye seemed to be one of compassion. And it seemed that every time they met, Delemor was overcome with emotion and wept a diamond tear.
“Quit staring at me, clown!” Delemor roared.
Rowen averted his eyes to the floor underneath the table, praying that he would not be faced with the serpent coming out to punish him.
Fortunately, all was calm .
But one thing seemed certain about Delemor’s disposition. No way was he in Rowen’s corner.
“So what is it that I can do for you this time, buddy? What would you like to get out of your next life?”
“I have to be honest, I’m again a little perplexed. I wanted to be an adult and do fun things that adults do, but apparently I went overboard.”
“Did you now?”
“To be honest, I’m not sure how I ended up that way. I can’t identify with the person that I just was in the slightest.”
“I’m sure he’d say the same thing about you.”
“Who would?”
“You would, you brain fart. The former you. The Rasputin you. I’m sure he’d shake his head at you like you’re shaking your head at him.”
“I just … I just don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Well, when you’re down there, there are a lot of factors influencing your development. You and I can work out a few of the big picture items and even some of the details, but in order to make it interesting, a lot of who you become and what you do depends on your circumstances and your decisions.”
“So then it’s like half destiny, half free will?”
“Nope.”
“No? Then like 75% free will?”
“Look, stinky cheese,” Delemor said, getting frustrated with the conversation. “It all depends. It depends on you, your surroundings, and Us. And it depends on which life you’re living. Sometimes we don’t give a shit and you’re free to do whatever the fuck you want, to the degree that your situation allows. And sometimes there’s a whole lotta celestial interest and almost everything you do and encounter is because of Us.”
“Wow. I don’t know if I’m happy to hear that or sad.”
“No one cares whether you’re happy to hear that or sad. Your emotions are irrelevant. But what I do care about – albeit not that much – is discussing your next life. So what can I do for you?”
Rowen furrowed his brow. “Maybe that’s it. Maybe that’s what I’d like to do.”
As Rowen thought out loud to himself, he heard hissing underneath the table and his eyes widened with fear as he saw Delemor’s serpent tail swaying back and forth, ready to strike.
“I’m sorry! I mean, maybe I could live a life where I care more. Where I put a little more thought into what living a good life really means. In this last life, all I was concerned with was fame and success. I wanted to be popular. I wanted to stick out; at the tavern, at the royal court, everywhere.”
“But in hindsight, you’d rather not stick out because the nail that sticks out gets hammered down, is it?”
“Yes,” Rowen replied without thinking.
“But at least you got to do your fair share of hammering, no?”
“No. I mean, it’s not that I regret being a target if that’s what you mean. It’s that, I didn’t really consider what it means to live a full, just life. All I cared about was women, booze, and power.”
“I thought you cared about salvation.”
“Did I? Looking back, I can’t even tell. Maybe that was just an unconventional, rebellious outlook used solely to attract the attention and affection of women. I think I may have been a sham.”
“I know you were a sham. You’re always a sham.”
“And that’s the point. I think I’d like to live a life where I continuously contemplate what it means to be good. Where I’m not just concerned with my own ambition, but with right and wrong. A fully-examined life where we all work hard to debate and discuss our morality, and where justice is served. ”
The more excited Rowen got, the more disinterested Delemor became. “Hmph,” Delemor groaned, slumping back into his throne. “Some kind of age of philosophy, is it?”
“Yes!” Rowen replied. “That sounds perfect!”
Delemor yawned. “Okay, I’m growing bored of you already so I can make that happen to speed things up. Anything else?”
“Well, last time I was extremely blessed to have the help of Dionysus so often.”
Delemor raised an eyebrow.
“This time,” Rowen continued. “I don’t want to ask too much, but would it be possible to just communicate with a God at some point if needed?”
Delemor sighed. “At some point?”
“You know, like if I’m at a critical crossroad and really need some advice or to know the answer to a question or something.”
“Well, if you’re willing to put the effort in, I know just the
right place for you.”
“Thank you so much!”
“So while I am in a charitable mood, I’m still gonna need some concessions in return for all this generosity.”
Rowen sighed. “Ummm … I’m not really concerned with looks this time so you could give me like a huge nose and a unibrow and stuff like that.”
“I guess,” Delemor agreed reluctantly, as if doing Rowen a favor.
“Or maybe some unforeseen negative consequence or two that comes from living a fully-examined life?”
Delemor seemed amused by this. “Well, you know, when you start questioning everything, you start doubting everything.”
“Yeah, that sounds pretty bad.”
“So in that vein … you will never trust a word that comes out of the love of your life’s mouth. ”
“Not a word?” Rowen replied, meekly.
“Okay,” Delemor said patronizingly, as if granting a major concession. “Since I’m in such a generous mood today, I won’t make it everything she says … just the important stuff. Oh, and you’re gonna have a gummy smile.”
“A gummy smile? What do you mean?”
“You know, excessive gingival display.”
“…”
“When you smile, your pearly whites are gonna be vastly overshadowed by your gums. Basically, all anyone is gonna see when you smile is a mouthful of gums.”
“… Well, I guess if …”
“Also, you’re gonna have a tic.”
“A tic? Like my face will suddenly twitch for no reason?”
“Face, shoulders, legs, arms, back, ass, throat … let’s not limit ourselves here. All options are on the table.”
Rowen grimaced.
“Meng Po!” Delemor called. “Can we get this seeker of light a drink, please?!”
The sweet old lady once again brought in a cup of her special concoction and handed it to Rowen.
She smiled affably as he chugged it down. “Shit happens.”
“I’m sorry?” Rowen asked while being helped to his feet.
“You go ahead and think your ass off, but all the knowledge you need is crammed into those two little words. Shit happens.”
As the adorable old deity cackled, Rowen’s vision went haywire and his entire world went dark.