Clay

...continued...

Something was turning him around without his control.

Then it appeared with all of its emptiness. From beyond the edge of the white light, it approached. As dark as it was all around, it was still darker. Light seems to enter an eternal vacuum. As it approached the light vanished. He stood there in the company of anxiety and fear all around, whispering their taunts. It approached slowly without jester until just about arms reach its stopped.

It was massive.

Larger than life.

It dominated his vision. He could not move. It was not fear. The frigid air wracked his nerves. He could not decipher if it was benevolent or even its purpose. What is it? The cowardly whispers became distant. It approached closer to him. The cold emanated from it like he had never felt before. Though he moved, it was in a state of perpetual stillness, black, more like the lack of anything. Like a black hole's innermost void.

It spoke without sound. The words dictated to follow it toward the wall where before there was space filled with grayish whispers. It wanted to show him something for a purpose later in time. He followed the coldness in front of him. He did not know what to make of it.

What did he want?

What significance was he to it?

What did the whisper just say just beyond ear shot?

It told him to extend his arm and reach for the handle and pull to the right. The handle felt bitterly cold. His flesh stuck to the metal like handle. This was the first thing with texture, almost comforting had it not stuck to his hands and fingers. He felt around more and found the handle attached to a wall or door of the same icy cold texture. Not smooth, but subtle indentations like an iron panel rusted over the years. With an authoritative command its said to pull now.

The iron handle was heavy, he leaned and pulled until the iron panel gave way slowly. The sound of rusted iron grinding over more iron filled the area. From the slit now visible, out shot out extreme heat. The light was blinding and difficult to focus on. He pulled until it said to stop and stand before the opening. The heat flushed out into the black void where he stood. His body felt the extreme opposite now. He was virtually backing with just the moments he was there. While shielding his eyes from the extreme light and melting heat, something sent chills down his spine.

Then again, it waddled frantically across.

He approached the opening closer for a better look. The heat was intense. It appeared to be a tunnel made of molten lava. Lava dripped from the top of the cave onto the lava flow below. The tunnel was too narrow for a man to stand in or stretch out his arms. He stepped back again, the heat was unbearable. He could smell his burning eyebrows and hair. His arms that shielded him form the heat were in pain. But he had to see. Something was there he wanted to see. There was more he wanted.

He stepped closer this time and looked at the flowing lava the only covered the floor of the tunnel. The tunnel stared lower on the left and rose as it went to his right. The lava flowed up the tunnel as another thing streaked by. It shrilled pain. He could not make sense of what he saw. It looked like a person for moments. The sounds it made and its shape did not make sense.

Again he stepped back surrounded by the smell of his smoldering hair and clothes. He wanted to see more. With the intense cold still behind him, he faced the extreme heat in front of him. This time he stepped as close as he could get. From down the tunnel on his left he saw it again. It was a person, burning then melting repeatedly is the only way to describe it. As each bit of flesh burned into the lava walls it would regenerate only to burn again. Everything regenerated and just as quickly would burn again.

The face.

The look he saw through the flames. The expression of endless panic and fear.

The cries would melt away into gargle sounds as the throat would burn away repeated away.

Like a prayer never getting a chance to finish.

Then another waddled frantically past. In attempts to avoid the molten walls the limbs would burn and melt into stumps. The waddling things would stumble, trip, roll while toiling to find an escape. Pursuing an infinite urge to escape and cry out.

The another. One after another, they thrashed up the tunnel.

His burning hands drew his attention back to his own self. That was enough. That was all he could bare to witness. Just the site was confusing enough. How did he fit in this scene?

It commanded the iron door be closed. The ice cold bit into his hand and stopped the blisters form getting bigger. The extreme temperatures alone tortured his flesh. He pulled the gritty metal door back to the left. While he leaned left and pulled for leverage, the heat emblazon his face with memories of the trashing faces. The pain was excruciating, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He must do what he was told. Finally the door shut and nothing could be felt from the other side. Just as he started before, everything was in reverse. He followed it back to the circle of light, with the cowardly whispers following close by. It turned him around and with out loud, fearless booming heartfelt voice, it commanded him to remember it.

It was not comforting. It was not benign. It was not benevolent. It wanted him in the most destructive way possible.

He turned around and followed the moving circle of while light as before. The grayish whispers meant nothing now, they were more of a nuisance. He fumbled his way back through the metal bleachers and found the textureless wall. He slide his hands as he walked for what seem like eternity until he found the crease. He pushed on it and found himself outside the hanger like building.

He tried walking but had no strength left. Each step felt like his legs would crumble, but the faces, the faces still left their mark. In the deep gray, textureless surroundings, all he could see and feel are the burning faces.

Entering hell. The walls are sweaty with small vents oozing out super heated slow moving orange-yellow burning air. The caverns are narrow and winding. Satan is hovered over his book of souls making comments to somone else. His grotesque face sits on hunched shoulders. He's clothed in formal attire. His hands are old and ragedy, but never letting you forget his is the evil of all evil. A new soul enters hell.

The oozing burning air turns lime green in color for a few moments in welcoming the damnned soul. The woman falls into a cell. One side of the cell is the sweaty rock wall of hell. The other three walls are metal bars heated to melt to the touch. The rock wall is covered in burning acid, but that doesn't seem to bother her as much as the fact that this is her place for all of eternity.

No end.

Forever.

Even more burning air oozes out, and turns back to the orange-yellow color. The heat is suffocating. The screams and yells in the background torment her consciouness.

This is her. Forever.

This is reality, not a dream. Her flesh begins to melt. Her body is in excruciating pain. Her mind is an spiraling state of utter fright and confusion...all tainted with the thoughts of eternal pain. Without ceasing. Little by little she hears clobbering footsteps approaching. Somehow more frieght manages to fit into her eyes. The air thickens to the point of sewage sludge. Neighboring moans and shrieks fill the winding caverns. Soon a brain like creature stands within the confinds of her cell. The creature is in the process of development. It grows tantecles from the base of its head. It's a creature of specific pain. With a head resembling a brain with a short stubly tongue at its base and tentecles acting like legs and arms it awaits for the arrival of the others.

More clobbering footsteps arrive from all around. They are creatures of different types of pains. Each with their own grotesque physical forms. One manages to grow an extending form of dendrites and throws it at her feet. In trynig to move away she accidently touches it and is shocked beyond belief with electric psychopathic tormenting shockwaves. She cries out in agonizing unrelenting torment. With multiple different creature of pain moving in on her...she panics...this will be her destiny forever. Each of the creatures take their turn delivering their exausting hellish torture. At times they take turns and randomly attack all at once. No rythm nor pattern, they just attack constanly. With no room to run, with no escape she begins her suffering for all eternity. Satan continues to write in his book of souls who's next.

Sometimes I think too much. To the point of confusion. Do you think to much that you annoy yourself sometimes?

I just want to - Stop - shut up - go to the beach - have a cool beverage - and chill.

Too bad blogs don't have "smell-o-vision" to bring across the salty air and warm sandy ocean to you.

Then again some of you probably are sensing that in reality.

Right now I am sitting at my table staring at a bowl of cereal. What a contrast...the tropical beach with palm trees and inviting ocean waves versus a work day morning staring at a cereal bowl.

I rambling right now without a real conversational direction. I had one of those nights where I keep thinking of work and trying to solve the issues from there.

I presume around lunch time I will be staring at my computer monitor just like I am now staring at my ceral bowl. At least my ceral tastes better.

I sure do miss the beach.