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.