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.