Ninth Circle: The Center of Hell

The souls that we walked over were now covered completely with ice. Their frozen expressions could only helplessly take in the image of the bottoms of my feet. Their positions altered. Some sinners were twisted, some upright, and some were curled up so that they couldn't look upward at all. 

My guide pointed toward the center of the ice and asked if I could now see the source of the wind. The wind was so strong at this point that even guarding myself behind my guide didn't make a difference. The image of a create came out of the darkness. It's wings flapping wildly and in all directions like a windmill. I hadn't seen such a gargantuan creature during my entire journey.

This was the Devil himself, this was Dis. This is the place that would threaten my soul most of all. I cannot begin to explain how my body seized up as I took in the sight. I felt that my heart stopped beating, my blood stopped flowing, and my eyes no longer blinked. All of my energy went into seeing this massive creature that had been simply an imagined visual before now.

I poised myself in case I had to flee, then realized that Satan was also stuck in the ice. From his waist down, his body was encased. I was in awe so see that this creature had three faces. One was a rusty color, the other a sickening white, and the final face was very dark. His wings were not made of feathers like the angels, his were bat-like instead. These wings created the storm. These wings freeze this entire area.

Satan wept, like many that I saw before in Hell. His tears mixed with blood and froth from his mouths. In each mouth was a sinner who was destined to be chewed forever. The one that suffered the most, explained Virgil, was Judas. His head is not visible. His head is forever in the Devil's mouth. In the other two mouths were Cassius and Brutus. Each sinner writhed and squirmed. Some were even incapable of screaming anymore.

Virgil halted with his descriptions.. The night was coming on and we had seen everything. I was pleased to hear this. I had seen the great beast of Hell himself as he tried to escape his icy tomb by beating his wings and I hadn't run away.

I began to wonder how we would exit Hell. It seemed impossible to go back out the way we came. The very thought of it caused me exhaustion. I followed Virgil's next instructions carefully and surprisingly without fear. I grasped Virgil's neck and held on tight as he mounted the monster. It seemed as though he was moving us closer to the ground which didn't make sense to me. He somehow climbed out an opening through the rock and set me down on the rim.

I looked upward, expecting to see Lucifer, but instead was welcomed by the night sky. Virgil explained to me that the Devil made the hole through to Hell when he was cast down from Heaven.We had traveled through the center of the Earth. I was amazed and astounded and best of all: alive.

Our journey through blackness was over, our journey through the beauty of the dark night sky was just beginning. We had made it. I felt my new found strength well up inside me once more. Cowardice might not be a problem in the future. This is where my story ends for now: beneath the stars.

Circle Nine: Round Two (Continued) and Round Three

I asked the sinner what made him gnaw on his neighbor.

The sinner on top raised his head from its downward position and wiped his bloody jaw off on the other sinner's matted hair and fleshy scalp. The nape of the victim was worn away completely. It was mush just sliding down onto the ice. It had not been consumed.

The man spoke with grief in his voice. He explained that, in life, he was Count Ugolino. The one he chewed on was the Archbishop Ruggieri. He wanted my judgement on their situation. Which caused me to wonder if he was a religious man or not. If he was it confused me as to why he wasn't respecting God's judgement. But was it easy to respect someone who put you somewhere so miserable? But then again, he put himself here.

Ugolino was imprisoned by the Archbishop for many years along with his sons. He told me this story:

"We usually were given our dinner at a certain hour. Instead of being greeted by the clatter of dishes, we heard hammers. Someone was nailing up the gate at the base of our tower. I couldn't weep. I couldn't let my sons see my fear. Whatever hope they might have would be imperative to keep them going.

I began to absentmindedly nibble on my hands and fingertips. My skin started to peel around my disappearing nails. They were slowly transforming into bloody stumps. This nervous habit was interpreted by my boys as hunger.

They told me that I should consume them.

Sparing them was my only thought though. Then a day passed-- still without food. My eldest boy begged with me, telling me to eat him so that he didn't have to see me suffer and so that his suffering would also end. He died on the floor in front of me that night. Overcome with hunger, each son passed away while I was forced to listen to them cry with hunger.

At this point, I was blind. I began to crawl from body to body. I tried to shake them and scream to them in order to wake them. They never rose. I called out to them for two days. Eventually, hunger was the only thing I could feel. Grief had disappeared..."

The sinner lunged at his meal once again. The story had renewed his anger at his captor. I was full of disgust. The poor sons should never have faced such tortures.

I felt a wind blow as we continued toward the center of the ice and asked my master about its origins. He told me that I would soon be able to see the source for myself. I wondered if another whirlwind of sorts awaited me.

Circle Nine: Round One and Round Two

Virgil and I stood together in the dark pit at the bottom of the well. We were even father down that the giant's feet could touch. From the darkness itself, I heard someone warn me not to step on any heads. I turned from my view of the wall and looked at my new surroundings. A lake, frozen in ice was under my feet and stretched farther than my vision allowed me to see. I felt that the lake had never known a liquid state. The ice was so thick that, for once, I wasn't fearful of falling. 

The dead are cemented into place in this ice. I briefly considered the process by which they were inserted in. Each sinner perfectly exemplified one plagued with cold. Tears clogged their eyes as they froze. So numerous were the sinners here that I noticed two whose hair grew together into a nest. Different parts of sinners faces were blackened with frost bite. One man had even lost his ear to the cold. 

I will never feel the chill of snow again without the images of this place coming to mind. I was distracted my the cold as we moved toward the center and mistakenly kicked one of the sinners below my feet. He cursed me so that I was compelled to yank at his hair. In this same section of the ice, I saw two souls together in a single hole. One of them seemed to be a helmet for the other. The head on top clasped his jaw onto the skull and neck of his meal. His gnawing wasn't out of hunger though, it was out of spite. 

I wanted to know their story.

The Central Pit of Malebolge: The Giants

Finally, Virgil and I were able to face a new direction and all the valley could see of us was our backs. We had to climb to the top of an incline made of stone to make it to our new destination. Once at the top, my eyes couldn't make out much at all. My ears were more than capable though. I had heard the high piercing note of a trumpet. I tried to trace it through the blackness but didn't have any luck. Finally, as my eyes adjusted, I was able to make out a gathering of tall towers. I assumed this to be another city and wondered if Heavenly intervention would once again be needed to enter it.

I questioned Virgil but his reply was vague. He said that my assumption was incorrect. I would understand more once I got closer. However, he wasn't surprised that I misinterpreted my surroundings. This just made me more curious. He seemed to rethink his explanation. Virgil, hoping to alleviate some of my shock, began to share his wisdom.

These massive towers were not structures at all, they were giants. They were the finals guards to the last pit in Hell. The closer I came to the bodies, the more I was able to make out. Their flesh was bulbous and swollen. Coarse hair that made a forest all its own covered the chests of the beasts. Their stomachs jutted out a great distance and their mouths moved slowly when they spoke a mysterious language. Virgil said that it was gibberish. This giant was bound five times with chains. No amount of strength on his part would be enough to free him.

Much like we had used monsters to our advantage before, it was time to use the giants for transportation. Once giant reached out his massive hands, covered in blistering skin, and my guide stepped into them. He invited me to join him. Reluctantly, I followed his instructions. The giant, like a tumbling wall after a pillar is removed, began to bend toward the floor of Hell. I wished desperately that there was some other way for us to travel. Flying was at least quicker than this method. I closed my eyes and stood close to my guide.

Circle Eight: The Falsifiers

Virgil and I made our way to the final pit in this section of Hell. The screams that escaped from those in this pit shot through my body like barbed wire. I clamped my hands to my ears as Virgil had done with my eyes when we encountered Medusa. The smell of rotting flesh wormed its way through the screams up to our ledge. We walked until we were able to finally make out the bottom of the pit.

Each man was piled on top of other men. They were all grasping at each other for comfort and buried in filth. I noticed that this was one of the only sections of Hell where I found men still relying on one another for comfort and companionship. Many of these sinners were covered in scabs. I saw that these came from incessant scratching of the skin with dirty nails that seemed inhumanly sharp. They were like lepers. I had to stop myself from shying away from them. Thankfully, they couldn't plague me with their diseases.

I may have spoken too soon about these men wanting to be a comfort to one another. Out of nowhere, two sinners came racing toward one that was near us. One of the sinners sunk his tusks into the man's shoulder. He was then dragged over to the bottom of the ditch and his stomach was torn open.

I was left trembling at the sight of all these sinners. Some left to run endlessly and be attacked by Furies, some were punished with lack of movement, and others suffered diseases. One specific man suffered from a thirst that couldn't be quenched. Whenever he leaned down for a drink, the water below him would dry up. Whenever he reached toward lush fruit trees above him, they rose up higher. His lips were cracked and dry and his tongue hung lifelessly.

Looking around, I became fixated on two arguing sinners. I was transfixed until I was scolded by my guide once more. Shame caused my eyes to swell with tears as happens sometimes out of embarrassment. I was so ashamed that I wished to disappear. I had hoped by now that I would be able to prove myself to Virgil as a worthy companion.

Circle Eight: The Sowers of Discord

In the next pit, Virgil and I came across a great mass of horrifyingly mutilated souls. Men were split haphazardly in all ways; from their mouths to their bottoms. Their skin curled outward at the edges of the wounds. Intestines made their way out of abdomens, tangling with other organs. Most sinners had given up on trying to gather slippery insides up for safe keeping. My instincts told me to help them, but they were already dead. One could suffer, but one couldn't die.

These were the sowers of scandal and schism. They are torn apart in death just as they tore others apart in life.

A devil stands near those who march in this ditch. He is their butcher. His sword, as long as and heavy as I, stays forever sharp as it slashes flesh. His arms never tire. After slashing the bodies, they walk in a circle until they're back to the demon. While walking, their wounds heal painfully; as if a knife were zipping them up. They are whole again by the time they reach the devil.

I began to scan the bodies of the souls in order to see their wounds. One had a gash across his face, another was missing a limb entirely, a third had a slash completely down his back. One man, who had spoken with such hate during life had his tongue cut off.

The worst though, I couldn't even believe. He had his head completely taken off. He continued to walk, his chest rose and fell, his arm was raised and his fingers could clearly grip. The monster seemed to be holding a lantern of some sort. But this lantern...it had hair, it had features. This lantern was his own severed head. It still spat blood as he walked. I wanted to be sick, but I was past fainting. I gathered my strength. If he could bear such a burden and continue on, I could as well.

Still, I felt tears welling up. My guide hurried me on with scolding words.

Circle Eight: The Evil Counselors

I took a moment to convey my disappointment at how prominently Florence was represented in Hell by its citizens. In the area of the thieves alone, I encountered five individuals from Florence. As my guide and I traveled on, I began to feel lonely. It seemed as though no one was on our side here. I didn't expect them to be friendly but I also didn't expect such malice.

When I looked into the next area of Hell we were approaching, I could only compare it in my head to a field of fireflies trying to light my way. This came as a welcome and friendly comparison and I almost felt safer. However, these lights weren't the yellow hue of a firefly, they were actual flames. The towers of flame began to completely take over my vision as Virgil and I got closer. I could just barely make out bodies that danced, suspended, in these flames.

Virgil explained that notable men such as Ulysses, the man responsible for the Trojan Horse,  resided here for their crimes. Virgil seemed to have pull with these men because they had read his works. He asked Ulysses what brought him to this place. When Ulysses spoke, his flame quivered. Ulysses discussed, in Greek, which Virgil later translated to me, the love he had for his wife and how it couldn't compare to his drive to explore. Even though he had been away from his family for about ten years, he just couldn't make his lust for wandering subside. He went out again on the sea and the last thing he remembered seeing was Hercules' Pillars and then a large mountain. His ship sunk. Drowning in the water led to his current position; floating in flame.

Nothing in my heart could imagine choosing to wander the world instead of staying with my love.

Circle Eight: The Thieves

While trying to get to the next area of Hell, Virgil and I encountered treacherous terrain. I head him say some fearful and uneasy words: "Climb here, but first test it to see if it will hold your weight". I didn't want to consider what would happen if I were to fall again. I gently tested each patch of rock before I adventured too bravely. If I didn't have the knowledge that this bank wasn't too steep, I would have turned back. I would have turned back immediately. I thought my heart would beat through my flesh as my lungs heaved. Virgil's words, asking me how I expected to climb a more virtuous height later if I couldn't get up this one, encouraged me as well. I lied a bit and told him that I was strong and felt steady here. I attempted to slow my breath. This caused more heat in my chest but I tried for the sake of my guide.

Finally my body was poised to look into the next ditch. My eyes took in coils upon coils of serpents. Their masses terrified me. I didn't want to think about them climbing all over me, traveling into my cloak, running over my skin with their rough scales. My horror could never match that of the men running from these snakes down in the ditch. They were nude and didn't have a hope of escape. Snakes coiled around their arms and ankles. This bound them and made their bodies vulnerable to whatever other serpents wanted to do to their immobile, struggling bodies.Each sinner seemed to be covered in knots.

One sinner ran up a large boulder. A snake slid after him and flew up, its fangs landing in the man's shoulder. The second the teeth entered the man's shoulder, he transformed into a pile of ash. I expected to see the serpent making his way through the ash, but instead, the dust rose and resumed the shape of the sinner. The entire process reminded me of the death and rebirth of the Phoenix. This poor man has the look of his face of someone who had just been slapped into sobriety.

Not only were these creatures regenerating from ash, they were also undergoing another metamorphosis. When you read this, I urge you to understand that it is true. I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. As I looked to the ground, I watched a lizard come toward me, scuttling around bodies and serpents, and attach itself to a sinner's front.

The lizard's teeth sunk into the face of the sinner, its claws sunk their way into his forehead and shoulder, hind feet met thighs, and the tail coiled between the legs of the sinner. It couldn't have held on any tighter. They became one as if they were gradients of a sunset converging with one another. The final product was neither man nor beast. Endless and painful transformation was the end result for all of these thieves. No feature was safe from transformation of flesh to scales.

Circle Eight: The Hypocrites

The only footsteps I heard now where Virgil's soft ones and my harsh ones on Hell's earth. No more did I hear demon claws scraping behind us. In silence, my mind wandered. These demons didn't seem capable of practical reason. They didn't want to help us to begin with, therefore, why should they let us go so easily? My head was filled with imagined sounds of their pursuit of us. I began to wonder whether our procession of two would increase in number again. My fear led to instinct; the instinct to hide. I consulted Virgil who admitted to having the same fears that I did. He suggested trying to slip into the next pit.

Just as he made this suggestion, I saw their wings. Without time for thought, Virgil grabbed me and we slid down the wall. I felt that he cared more for me than himself. I imagined that he had a lot to answer to if anything were to happen to me under his care. I looked up into the faces of the demons and realized that they couldn't follow us; they were tethered to their ditch.

Once I felt safe, I looked upon the new punishment before my eyes. Each figure in this new ditch proceeded around in a circle. They were hooded in cloaks. Each cloak was black in color and made of lead. I listened to them moan and considered what strength such a task would take. These were the hypocrites. They moaned as they carried the weight of the cloak.

I began to talk to some of those who walked perpetually but was distracted by the sight of a crucified body on the ground. I even saw Virgil marvel at this sight. This shocked me, for Virgil wasn't one to do this. He was always encouraging me not to stare too long and move on quickly. Coming out of his trance, he asked one of the sinners for directions to our next destination. We quickly learned that the demons were leading us the wrong way. We had been lied to. I felt justified in my feelings about them now. The sinner set us back on the right path and we continued. This blow weighed down my shoulders as a lead cloak may have.

Circle Eight: The Grafters

In this section of Hell, I found a sea of pitch. What is usually used for fixing holes in ships which sit on water is now the liquid itself. The liquid was the consistency of glue and could be mistaken for tar. It boiled and bubbled up as it shifted and breathed. I tried to look closer but I didn't see any forms in the pitch, just bubbles rising, popping, then dissolving.

Suddenly, a figure was spotted quickly making his way toward us. He was a huge black demon, much like the ones we saw cracking whips earlier. His face was full of rage and twisted with hate at the sight of us. He was holding a sinner over each shoulder. He dropped one of the sinners after consulting with another demon and I watched as the man fell toward the pitch. I didn't want to be next on that quick journey. My guide told me to stay low while he consulted with the beasts.

He used the argument that Divine Will brought him this far, so they must let us pass. If we had gotten through everything so far they should let us pass as well. I felt that my guide had argued his point well. However, I again doubted my situation for a moment. Though Divine Will conquered in the end, what could happen before we were brought to safety? One wrong step, one vicious demon, and I was in the pitch trying to breathe just like the sea as it bubbled.

The demon dropped his pitchfork and offered us safety and assistance. For all that I hear these demons and men scorn God, they fear him a great deal. I walked out from my hiding place and once again worried that the demons would break their agreement. They chattered behind me as they walked. Asking one another if they should poke and prod at me with claws. Those claws would easily rip through me. They would make me suffer. I didn't take my eyes off of the demons. I wanted to go on alone. I knew that we needed a guide because the footing was treacherous but these certainly weren't creatures to be trusted. Virgil assured me that I wouldn't be harmed. Though I trusted him, I knew that these demons would leap at me if Virgil strayed too far away. I clung next to him and tried not to convey fear.

As we traveled I kept my eyes on the pitch. I saw sinners breaking to the surface for just a moment of solace. Then would quickly be submerged again. One chose to stay up for just a second too long. Unfortunately, I watched as one of the demons ran a hook through the sinner's hair and threw him back in. I was allowed to ask the sinner a few questions as he sank near the shore. I wanted to know if any Italians boiled with him. The demons grew slowly impatient. They were more interested in this man than in me getting my answers. Right before my eyes they took a chunk out of his arm with a pitchfork. While they were distracted with their new plaything, and as they argued after he jumped back into the pitch, Virgil and I slipped away.

Circle Eight: The Fortune Tellers and Diviners

From where I was standing, I had a clear view of what was below Virgil and I. It was as if they were all moving in a funeral procession. Sobs could be heard as they moved at their slow pace. Upon closer inspection, I could see that their faces were distorted. Not only that, but their heads were attached to their necks backward.

These were the fortune tellers. Because they had looked forward in life, they must now always look behind them. I don't believe that anyone has ever been seen who looked so disfigured. Seeing human beings so distorted and miserable made me upset. They didn't even have the comfort of crying down their fronts. I began to weep at the sight of their monstrous bodies.

My guide again reprimanded me for my emotion and reminded me not to question God's judgement. He didn't seem to be as struck by visuals as I did. This was all new to me. He had time to grow accustomed to Hell. I didn't think that he was being fair, yet I knew he was right. We had to press on and I had to gain more confidence with dealing with my surroundings. Though Hell was terrifying, what I might see in the future, in Heaven, even if it is grand, could cause me just as much shock.

Circle Eight: Bolgia Three, The Simoniacs

Virgil and I approached the next dip in Hell's earth and saw long rows of holes made out of stone. They looked just like the ones that are used for Baptisms. I remember, not too long ago, I saved a child from drowning in one of these pieces. The young boy had escaped his mother's watchful eye and was intrigued by the water. When no one was looking, he climbed inside. He was a bit too big for the hole and became wedged inside at an odd angle, head first, and sputtered and flailed. I was able to break the baptismal encasing so that the boy could breathe again. The boys life was more important than preserving the religious piece.

Much like the little boy whose chubby legs were waving for my help, these stone pieces also held sinners whose legs were sprawled above them. Flames licked up, caressing their calves. Each sinner was stuck and didn't have the slightest hope of being saved.

Virgil and I came upon the head sinner in that area, the one who squirmed his legs most and burnt brightest: Pope Nicholas III. Seeing him in Hell pleased me for I detested those who corrupt church office. I went as far as to tell him that silver and gold are the only gods that he worships. I wanted to say much more but I knew that our time was limited. My guide once again was praising me for denouncing a sinner. God was right in his judgements. Who was I to question him by feeling pity?

Virgil lifted me up and carried me up the rocky wall up to the bridge so that we could look into the next ditch.

Circle Eight (The Evil Ditches)

The next area we entered was a great circle of stone that slopes downward slowly. Each slope is divided into ten concentric ditches and in each ditch is a different group of sinners receiving punishment. Virgil and I approached the first ditch which held the panderers and seducers. Each sinner that we saw was nude and walking at a very fast pace. I wondered if they were trying to get away from someone or something. Then I wondered why they weren't running instead of walking. After looking closer, I saw their pursuers. Blackened demons chased these men with whips the size of myself. If the sinner did not walk at the right pace, they would be struck with the whip.

Farther off, in the next ditch, we were met with the smell of excrement. Steam from the filth rose to our nostrils and I considered turning back once more. Not only were my eyes and ears suffering, but my nostrils were now as well. I realized how deeply enthralled with this whole process I was. There was no way that I could turn back. I couldn't call upon any great beasts myself. Getting through Hell could help me toward being more powerful, more brave, more dedicated. Once again, I realized I must press on. I looked further into the ditch. People were flowing through this river of excrement. I saw someone that I thought I knew, but I could barely tell for he was covered in the muck from the river. I was disgusted with him; with those who were here.

Circle Seven: Round Three, The Violent Against Art

The beast that was before my eyes impressed me more than anything I had seen in Hell up to this point. His tail was sharp and Virgil described him as the creature that makes the whole world stink. My guide was able to summon the beast to the ground, right near him and I. The wind from his wings pushed against my chest but Virgil didn't falter. He landed much like a resting dog would. His chest and head hit the edge of the cliff and he was calm. His face was even innocent. He did not seem like someone or something capable of being underhanded. The body of the beast was mostly reptilian, but his arms were spiked with fur. My guide led me toward the monster, then changed his mind. He suggested that I look down toward the edge of a small cliff and take in my surroundings.

The people on the ledge were burning. Their very skin was smoking. Like those being showered with fire, these men were jerking around madly. I didn't observe anyone I knew in the group, but I did notice that each man had a purse hanging from his neck. On the purse was their family crest. None of them looked at me, them stared at their possessions instead as if the strings that held them on might break any minute.

I went back to my guide, as he had told me not to stay long with these men, who had already mounted the great beast. He wanted me to get on the beast. Needless to say, I was terrified, especially after discovering that the tail was poisonous. I trembled at Virgil's every word. However, Virgil had reprimanded me before for being a coward in the past. I needed to trust him. I needed to mount the beast and continue my journey. I remembered the mountain and how much I wanted to make my way to the top. That moment seemed like ages ago. I wanted to be brave.

I climbed onto the beast and before I could ask to be tethered, Virgil held onto me. He told this monster, the Geryon, that we were ready or flight. I don't think that anyone has ever been as terrified as I was when the Geryon slipped its feet from the cliff and we began our descent. I wondered if its wings would be able to catch the air. If I fell, I didn't know where I would fall to. All I could see around me was blackness. We were flying downward in a spiral and the lower we descended into Hell the more cries I heard and the more fire I began to see.

I was entirely surprised when we made it to the bottom of the abyss. I had assumed the worst and now it was time to prepare myself for the rest of the journey.

The Edge of the Cliff

Finally, my guide and I had made it to the waterfall. This is the path that would lead us to the lower levels of Hell. It plunged from a cliff down so far that I couldn't see or hear where it met rock or more water. Virgil asked me for the belt around my waist. I didn't ask why, but simply removed the belt. Virgil took it in his hand and threw it downward, as if signaling something or someone. I waited patiently and could barely breathe. Soon, a large shape came, swimming through the dense air. I braced myself looked to Virgil for reassurance. His eyes were fixed on the abyss. My trust had been cemented in this man since the wood of suicides. Therefore, I waited by his side and attempted to take on a confident stance.Could I intimidate whatever this shadow was?

Circle Seven: Round Three, The Violent Against God, Nature, and Art

I do hope that everyone who reads my words considers their lives and fate before making sinful decisions. I wouldn't wish this fate upon most.

Virgil and I somehow found our way to the edge of the forest and entered a desert. The burning sand was a harsh contrast to the cool hard soil we had just become acquainted with. There were groups of nude sinners gathered like cattle. They would be crying with pain if the atmosphere hadn't already dried out their eyes. Some of these men were sprawled out over the sand, some were squatting in it holding themselves for comfort, and other roamed perpetually.

From the sky rained small flakes of flame, as if a far off volcano had erupted and never stopped spewing ash into the air. Each flake landed on the sand making it heat up so that it burned the bodies and feet of the sinners further. Their skin ripped in small holes that soon opened into larger gashes. In reply to the heat, the bodies of the sinners twitched and squirmed in very inhuman ways. It was as if some other force was yanking at them. They would try to brush off the fire but once one flake was removed, another always took its place.

My guide warned me to stay close to the edge of the wood rather than stepping onto the sand. That was the way we traveled farther into Hell until I felt someone tug on my robe. It took me a minute to pull his image from my memory, especially considering the way that his skin had burnt. It was Brunetto Latino. He influenced me during my time on Earth and I admired him a great deal. Possibly more than anyone I had met in Hell thus far. I told him that, if I had my wish, he wouldn't be in Hell.

Circle Seven: Round Two, The Violent Against Themselves

Virgil and I, with Nessus as our guide, made our way into a wooded area. There was no path to guide us, only branches pointing in all directions as if wanting to direct us, but not knowing the right answer themselves. The path moved upward and I desperately wanted to rise with it. Never did I think I could be in a more unwelcoming forest than I began this journey in. This forest, instead of being green and full of life, was filled with blackened trees. Instead of fruit, they bore thorns that were purple or red in color denoting poison. If the branches weren't pointing out, they were wrapped around the trunk of the tree as if they were trying to hold themselves together.

More Harpies nested here. They seemed to weigh on the trees more than my live body did on the ground. Each wing was at least double my arm span and each claw as long as my hand. These claws tore at the trees they were perched in. Their swollen stomachs were covered in coarse feathers that would slice human skin on contact. Most unnerving though, was the fact that they had human faces that portrayed only animal emotions. Reason was not one of those emotions.

My anxiety began to build wondering what tortures I was about to see or that I might have to avoid. I heard cries of anguish, but saw nothing. My guide further added to my worry by telling me that, if I looked carefully, I would be able to understand the secrets of this forest. He went on to say that if he told me what awaited my eyes I wouldn't trust him anymore. He didn't think that I would believe him.

Maybe the sinners were buried under the earth? Virgil interrupted my thoughts by telling me to break off a branch from one of the trees. I was puzzled, but without questioning him, I reached up and broke off a small branch at my eye level. It didn't break as stiffly as I expected a dead tree branch to do. Instead, I had to tear it off in a way that felt like I was ripping a flower stem or something with fruit-like flesh.

From the trunk of the tree came the words, "Why do you break me?". Blood began to seep out of where I had wounded the sentient tree. It pooled at my feet but didn't sink into the dry ground of Hell. The tree told me that he used to be a man but is now a solid tree that can think, feel pain, and worst of all, bleed. The tree began to blame me for what I had done, asking why I hadn't had more mercy. I felt guilt well up inside my stomach and rise to my chest.

My guide chimed in, explaining that I wouldn't have believed his words if I hadn't seen the situation for myself. While I understood his motives, I still felt guilt. However, Virgil asked the tree to tell me his story so that I could bring it back to Earth and tell others about him. This would make up for me injuring him. Though the being had killed himself while alive to escape scorn, his faithfulness to the lord never faltered. This is the message that he wanted me to spread.

Circle Seven: Round One, The Violent Against Neighbors

After descending into lower Hell, Virgil and I encountered another creature. It was the Minotaur. I wasn't sure how we would get past it but I had faith in my guide, and I knew that my guide had faith in Heaven. Virgil began to mock the creature. It began to beat its hooves and trample the ground as it danced, blinded by its anger. My guide instructed me to run now while it was distracted. Everything I touched and everything I ran on seemed to shift under my weight. I wondered if Virgil had planned for this. I felt that one wrong step could send me falling. I would end up half broken upon some rocks while the furies came to feast on me.

The smell of flesh continued to permeate my nose as Virgil and I came upon a river of boiling blood. In this river, explained my guide, were those who struck down their fellow men. Along the banks of the river were centaurs. They were armed with arrows. Their sharp eyes darted between rocks, tufts of hair or flesh, and small ripples in the river. Father off, one could make out men's heads and some chests even. Any man submerged in the river who would try to free himself from the pain would be shot with an arrow. Three of the centaurs began moving toward us. I didn't want to feel one of those arrows in me. I didn't want to fall into the river and have my blood run and mix with hateful men. I settled uneasily on my other foot. Rocks shifted. They knew I was living.

Virgil, instead of being fearful of these creatures, ordered them to give us a guide. One named Nessus was given to us. We walked along the river until we only saw sinners submerged up to the ankle. I recognized many along the way.

A Map of Upper and Lower Hell

Before continuing to the seventh circle of Hell, Virgil and I took a moment to rest. The air down there is so putrid that Virgil and I sat behind a tomb to become accustomed to it. Virgil used this moment to explain to me the divisions of lower Hell. I will provide these visuals to explain the divisions that we have already passed through as well as those that we will encounter:

Circle Six: The Heretics

I could tell that Virgil was trying to hide his worry and disappointment. He didn't want to let me down. He didn't want our journey to end. He was struck by the situation. He knew what had been promised to him and me and expected to get through this wasteland. While he stood in worry, considering that not many from his level of Hell have ever made it down here, I saw something that caught my eye.

Three winged creatures, covered in matted and dirty fur appeared. Blood, being released from their breasts by their own claws, added to their filth and gave them a rusty appearance. Their limbs were athletic and strong, but not bulging like a man's might. In addition, their mannerisms also implied that they were female. Snakes and serpents adorned their waists and heads.

Upon seeing me, they cried to each other that they should get Medusa to turn me to stone. My guide grabbed me, and with urgency told me not to open my eyes. Either he didn't trust my curious nature, which might have been for the best, or he cared a great deal about the success of this trip, for he covered my eyes himself as well.

Suddenly, a noise quite different cracked the constant soundtrack of Hell. Every creature, every animal, and every human ran for shelter. I wondered what they could be scared of considering what they encountered daily. Then I realized, it must be a Heavenly presence. Virgil made a sign to me that I should bow, which I did. He approached the gate of Dis and with a wave of a wand, he opened it. Without a look at us he left through the water, the way he had entered.

My guide and I entered the city, unopposed. Though, I wasn't ready for such sights. There were tombs spread out in every direction. Instead of their purpose being for rest, their purpose was for pain. Fire burned in a ring around each tomb. This caused the tombs to glow red with head, eternally baking their residents to blackened crisps.Virgil explained that there were men piled into each tomb, all suffering together. Just as they had worshiped falsely together, they burn together. The temperature of each tomb is based on the degree of their sin. Their screams caused me to clutch my heart, but I moved on.

Circle Five: Styx: The Wrathful, Phlegyas Circle Six: Dis: The Fallen Angels

Virgil and I came to the foot of a great tower. As we were walking toward it, I noticed that two huge flames came from the very top of the mountain. Then, as if in answer, another flame sprouted through the mist. My answer came once I saw a boat traveling toward my guide and I. The one steering the boat was called Phlegyas. As I boarded the boat I once again considered that it had never carried so much weight before.

As I sat in my state of anxiety, I saw a form slowly make its way out of the slime we were sailing on. He cried at me asking who I was and why I, a man with life still in my body, was present in Hell. It seemed as though everyone who I encountered here didn't want me to be preset. God willed me to be here. I didn't want to listen to their patronizing words any longer. I answered the cry with my own question, asking who this foul voice belonged to. It was Filippo Argenti. Someone I had known and disliked greatly when he was with the living. I told this creature that I hoped that he was miserable forever. As I did so, he reached out toward me. My guide was able to shove him back into the muck.

Virgil them embraced me. He praised me for my actions. I was finally able to tell a sinner that he was worthless. Virgil's praise led me to think further. I told Virgil that I wanted to see that man suffer more before we finished crossing the body of water.

I cherish the image in my head of the man being mangled by his watery companions. I even thank God for it.

Just ahead, Virgil and I took in the sight of the city of Dis. I was able to make out the glow coming from its mosques. It was as if they had just been forged with molten metals and come fresh from their molds. Anyone entering them would surely burn and their skin would bubble.

Upon reaching the gate to Dis, I was taunted once more by many creatures and souls who crowded around it. They told me that a living man would never be allowed into their city or through their gates. They explained that I must turn back. At this moment, I felt completely lost and helpless. If I couldn't pass through the gates there was no way I would be able to escape Hell. Would I be able to stay with Virgil and have a perpetual pit in my stomach reminding me of what could have been? Would I have to ask the great creature, Minos, which level I belonged in? I started considering my sins. Would being alive in Hell be considered a sin against nature? Would I simply be sent to the deepest, most blackened, vermin-infested corner?

Virgil, seeing my terror, offered his reassurance. He told me that since such a higher power wanted me here, it would see us through. He promised that he wouldn't leave me here to wander alone.

Circle Four: The Hoarders and Wasters, Circle Five: The Wrathful and the Sullen

Plutus, another dog-like beast from the underworld plagued me and my guide as we traveled into the fourth circle of Hell. Virgil impressed me once again with his ability to calm the evils of Hell with his words. Since we were here based on the will of Heaven, it seemed that nothing could touch us.

As if the monster wasn't bad enough, the agony of those in the fourth circle met my eyes. Each man was pushing around enormous boulders and rolled them at one another. They seemed to be in some kind of eternal war. Each side asking the other why they hoard or waste. Each believing that his side is right. The hoarders seemed pleased to have their boulders and the wasters seemed happy to see them set free. It was interesting to see these opposite sins being punished in the same place.

Most terrifying was that I couldn't make out any of the faces of the souls. Virgil explained that this was because, in life, they worked to be blind. Their hoarded gold and wasted money won't save them now.

Crossing over to the edge of the chasm, we came upon a small body of water that bubbled and flowed through a huge crack in the ledge. This water wasn't a welcome source though. Instead of being clear and a source of cooling its surroundings, it was black in color and smelled much like the muck and snow we had encountered earlier.

Following the water led to a marsh called Styx which was more like a swampland. It wasn't something that I wanted to trudge through. Making an attempt to climb through the water were masses of angry souls. Each was naked and covered in muck from the swamp. They bit at each other and tried to tear one another apart with whatever they could. They were trying to escape the water. Virgil explained that it was boiling. He went on to say that there were even souls who were sunken into the water. In life they were sullen and in death they are as well. They gargled this idea by song through the water. Eerie choking noises were the result.

Virgil and I walked on until we came to a great tower with no name.

Circle Three: The Gluttons

Once again, I wake after fainting from pity. Being in Hell, as one would imagine, is incredibly overwhelming. Each way I turn I see man dealing with some new kind of torture that my mind isn't brave enough to imagine or retell at times. Whenever I try to turn away from one terrible sight I turn to see another.

In this circle, a torrential downpour hits Virgil and I. Hail, slush, black snow, and icy rain all hit us and form one mess all over the ground. Among this filth, Cerberus, a dog-like beast with three heads is waiting to rip apart the men in this circle. His stomach is already ready to burst from those he has already consumed, but still, he tears off more limbs.

The men howl just like the beast in pain, not pleasure. As we walked across the mush, our feet sinking in some places and hitting bodies in others, I heard my name. I had come across a man from my native town, Ciacco, The Hog. As his nickname implies, his sin was gluttony. Seeing him half buried in filth took a toll on my already pained heart. He begged me to speak about him when I got back to the surface. I promised that I would. Though I wanted to honor his memory, I am not quite sure why someone who had sinned would want others to know that they were in Hell. I wouldn't want my family to know that I was suffering, nor my enemies.

Circle Two: The Carnal

Minos is a terrible creature. His smile contorts to his face in a way that perfectly exemplifies the pleasure he receives from sending sinners to their fate. I watched him wrap his tail around himself three times when faced with a male sinner. He even warned me with his fanged smile. Virgil said that I should take no note of him though.

After passing Minos, I was in Hell completely. Here, I met those who committed sins of the flesh. These people chose physicality over reason while they were on Earth. They spun in and endless whirlwind. Once again, my curiosity took over and I asked my guide if I could speak with them. He complied.

These souls were Paolo and Francesca. While reading the story of Lancelot together, they paused over a very romantic moment and kissed. Paolo's older brother wasn't pleased with this at all because of ties he had to Francesca.

This struck me. Love seemed to be ultimately good. Beatrice and I had shared love and we hadn't ended up in such a place. These two had merely stolen a kiss over a passionate scene. This worry and confusion overtook me, and once again, onto Hell's floor I fainted.

Circle One: Limbo, The Virtuous Pagans

Thunder is what woke me form my fainting spell. I jumped up quickly, as if feeling the need to defend myself from whatever could have found me. Not only was I in bad shape, but even Virgil looked pale at the thought of going forward. How was I supposed to go on, a mere human, if Virgil was terrified?

Virgil claimed that his face grew pale for those that we were about to encounter. Virgil didn't, however, seem like one to pity anyone. In addition, looking back on the journey, Virgil was the one who told me that feeling pity for others in Hell wasn't right. If one felt pity, it was like saying that God's ultimate judgement was wrong.

In this new area I was met with sounds of sighing rather than pain, which I was thankful for. Virgil explained that these people were the sinless. They weren't able to be Baptized because they were born before Christ. Virgil was from this area of Hell. Their punishment was that they had no hope.

Now, I too, was feeling my face grow pale out of pity. Why should someone suffer in Hell, even without physical pain, simply because they weren't able to be Baptized? They could be just as close to Christ and God or even more so than someone who was Baptized.

Virgil's friends soon came to greet him. I must admit that I almost swooned again when I saw who they were. Homer came first, then Horace, followed by Ovid, and then Lucan. After speaking together for a bit, these men welcomed me graciously. I saw Virgil give me an approving smile. Dare I say, Hell was enjoyable at this moment. I felt included as their sixth member. I was accepted into an elite group and felt inspired once again. I can't even write all of the names of the numerous noble men I saw after this. Philosophers and scientists alike met me with welcome handshakes.

As Virgil and I left these men, I thought about how this would be the last piece of light I would see in Hell. The rest would only get darker.

The Vestibule of Hell: The Opportunists

Virgil and I reached the gates of Hell. The inscription explained that Hell was here before anyone else existed and will remain long after as well. I'd like to think that the part of the inscription that told guests to "abandon all hope" wasn't meant for me. In fact, I was more restored with hope than I had been in quite some time.

With Virgil's hand in mine for reassurance, we entered Hell. 

I was met with the most painful cries of anguish that had ever attacked my ears. It was the scream of someone whose very being was being painfully removed from them. What made them human was being slowly bitten at and chewed off. This was the cry of someone who knew that this misery wouldn't be ending. Ever. These noises seemed to make my soul cry in sympathy. I felt as if I were in their place, and I wanted to end their suffering somehow. It was a gut reaction. 

The air was filthy with the voices of monsters, sinners, and timeless years of accumulating filth. 

The first sinners I saw in this place were running after a banner. They were blind due to the filth in the air. Wasps chased them and maggots wriggled under their feet consuming their sweat, blood, and pus. Virgil explained that they were the nearly soulless. They are the angels who didn't take a side during the war between Heaven and Hell. Hell won't take them completely and Heaven rejected them. 

Virgil instructed me to continue on and not look at them, but I couldn't help it. I wanted to see if I recognized any of them. I wanted to know who was feeling the most pain, who had been there longest, and why they were in this situation. I did know some among them. A Pope for instance. This came as a shock and made this world more real to me. I wanted to know more about Hell and the people in it. I wanted to learn all I could while I was here. I asked Virgil who some of the souls waiting by the river were. He reprimanded me, as if insisting I focus on the task at hand. 

Soon, an old, white haired man with a booming voice traveled toward us in a boat that didn't look fit for travel on such a river. He would be the one to get us across the river. Upon seeing me, he recognized me as a living being. The man, Charon, said that something lighter than his boat would have to give me passage. I realized that I had weight to my body, while these shades did not. However, Virgil got us onto the boat. 

Soon, I observed that all the souls seem to have a need to gather here and get across the river. They all draw together onto the shores and push and shove and blame God and their families and those back home, but they always gather. Virgil explained to me that these men begin to want what they had feared before.

Suddenly, everything around us began to shake violently. I was terrified. I didn't know if Hell was caving in or if something was attacking out boat. What if I was too heavy to be transported? What if my presence here was upsetting Hell itself? It was all too much to consider. This all didn't feel real. The last thing I remember was darkness.

The Descent

As Virgil and I continued our journey, a thought came to me: I am simply a man. I needed help if I wanted to document everything that I was about to encounter. Therefore, I called to my muses. Specifically, I asked them to help me recall everything I would see on the journey. However, they couldn't quell one of my worries. I didn't think myself to be worthy of such a journey. Considering other men like the founder of Rome were able to make such a journey, I didn't think I could compare with their greatness. I began to wonder whether I was making the right choice. Whether it was better to simply turn back. I could go back into the woods and try to find the right path or maybe find a way around the terrible monsters and still get up the mountain. Something inside of me though knew that this might be the only chance I had left.

But was I really feeling unworthy? Or was I just being a coward? In truth, with what beasts I had seen that had come from Hell, such as the she-wolf, terrified me. There was no way that I could defeat something like that. Virgil didn't even prove to me that he would be able to do so. He simply avoided them. Would he really be able to protect me? But once again, who am I to doubt such a great man who has come to Earth from Hell?

According to Virgil, my love was on my side. Beatrice was the one who came to him asking him to help me. She confessed that she did not fear Hell. Because she is made by God's all seeing mercy, the pain and suffering of Hell can't touch her.

For me, the decree had been broken. Beatrice was let into Hell and back out to give Virgil this message and Virgil was let out to help me. It did seem like God himself was on my side. He wanted me to learn something through this journey. With this thought, I felt protected. God and his angels were looking out for me and would be there if events went, well, to Hell.

I felt born again, on this the eve of rebirth and ready to face the fiery inferno.

The Dark Wood of Error

I will admit to you that I knew I had been straying for some time throughout my thirty-five years from the road that I wanted to be on; the straight road. Though I never expected to suddenly find myself in a dark wood alone without any direction. What scared me, possibly most of all, was that I had no idea how I came to be in this wilderness. After walking cautiously through the wood, I came upon a little hill. At that moment, I saw the sun rise behind this mass of earth and almost give it a halo. This instilled in my a new sense of safety and security. It strengthened my mind to the situation I was in. Seeing the sun rise in such a way behind The Mount of Joy encouraged me to climb directly up the mountain in hopes of escaping this dreadful place. However, the forest had other plans for me.

Immediately after I started my trek, my path became blocked by a large spotted leopard. Soon, an enormous lion joined the leopard. Finally, a she-wolf joined them both. All three animals seemed like they were faced with empty stomachs that only my body could satisfy. In my terror, I couldn't move. For an instant, I thought about what other souls had come to my same fate on this mountain. The sight of the she-wolf had completely killed my spirit. I accepted death and knew that my goal of getting to the top of the mountain was unattainable.

The wolf continued to pursue me until I was pushed back into the wood; all sight of the mountain was lost from my eyes. While my mind slowly sank back into the feeling of malaise, a figure slowly appeared before me. I figured that nothing in the forest was in favor of being my friend so I begged him to have pity on me.

When he spoke, his voice was hoarse and sounded as if it were passing through a thick liquid before it came into my ears. He explained to me that he was once a man but he isn't anymore. He was a poet, much like myself. He asked me why I returned to the forest instead of climbing the mountain. As if it had been my choice to be chased away by ravenous beasts.

I was able to overlook his comment once I realized who he was. The poet, Virgil, had appeared before me. I had admired him throughout my studies. He was my mentor and teacher, though I'd never actually known him. My main influence in my writings was standing in front of me. Seeing my hero stirred up my creative instincts and inspired me once again. I had a feeling that my encounter with him would lead to a noteworthy adventure.

At that moment though, there were more pressing issues. I pointed out the beast that I was running away from to him and begged him to protect me from her. I figured that if he had come to me as a shade he had other powers of some sort. I just knew that I had to get to the top of that mountain. Virgil however, suggested going another way. No one passes by the she-wolf.

Virgil then offered to be my guide to the mountain. He said that first, he would lead me to an eternal place. I would be able to see ancient spirits and people in pain. This would come first before being able to get up the mountain. I accepted his offer and told him to lead me to Hell. My present condition and situation could only lead to a worse fate.