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.