Gherdah

[Hell, The Fifth Circle of Greed, Gherdah]

'Dinner is not over', a voice echoed throughout the hall of heads, as those who once sought to taste their own sweat now only knew the taste of their souls.

As the souls tasted the souls of those in front of them, they only began to wish for more.

More flesh, more sweat, more breathing, more of anything they could possibly feel for.

It was almost self-perpetuating, a vicious cycle, and the Souls of the World were starting to wish for anything, even mere dust in their own dirt.

It was all they could take anymore in here. These souls of ours, these half-beasts, who only go through life only knowing how to want.

And that was what led the half-beasts to this place. It's a nature within us, all we can feel is need, but in some, it manages to manifest, overtaking all sense and reason, and they can't help themselves, they just want.

The hall of heads, filled with their greed and hunger, wouldn't let one of these sinners go through. Their eyes, bloodshot, as if they'd just been basted in salt, dead-set on a single prize.

With one impossibility, and a single mind.

The other's hands, covered in the stains of these sinful souls, began to rise out of their mouths. 

They have no name. They have no soul. They have no colour. They have nothing but greed, hate, envy, envy, envy.

A footstep resounded within the hall of heads, stopping all of their hunger in their tracks. 

It was a sinner, he was middle aged in look, he was full of rage.

Bald, naked, covered in filth, stench coming from the foul smell of rotten flesh.

His eyes, one dim, cloudy and rotten. The other, one of bright blue.

Those eyes opened and stared at the heads and their hands, which, in turn, quickly closed back into their mouths. As they retreated, fear mixed into his eyes, creating a feeling of what could only be described as something almost approaching disgust, or maybe even doom.

A thick shriek broke the silence, so high and shrill, the air was filled with it, the heads all began to wince as their hunger for flesh, only ever so slight, was finally to be sated. Their eyes turned back into their black voids and they sunk back into their own inner darkness. Their mouths opening, filled with fresh air. Their bellies open, with a hundred starved souls ready to be devoured.

'THE TRUTH!'

That was the man's only reply. Had he lost his mind? Or had he just found it?

His eyes turned back into a darkness of nothingness, his mouth, similar to that of the others, was now wide open.

His body fell as the heads of Greed destroyed him, the other sinners watching only for the sight of this, and their hunger, having been deepened. 

Some couldn't resist the temptation, they could no longer wait. Their souls were starving, and without even blinking, without a single breath to spare, ran into the arms of the heads of Greed, trembling with excitement as the pungent smell of their sweat, their blood, their doom filled them with hope.

One by one, each and every sin, every individual soul, would collapse onto the skin of the Heads of Greed, shrieking as they'd never shriek before.

Those who's soul's remained intact were taken from their pedestals, their bodies torn to shreds of flesh and bone, their blood shaping the faces of those who still managed to refuse, their faces and flesh filling the eyes of those who sacrificed their own.

The hall of heads. A hall of stench, a hall of screams, a hall of horror. A singularity of death, death, that will ensure that no greed will continue to exist, as long as there is even a seed of greed, even a scintilla of it, or a single defiant thought in the minds of anyone.

A singularity that would dare to exist, beyond anything, that would realise itself as one, at that point.

Never before had a single thought caused this chaos. No living soul, no sin, no world, nothing, had ever done such a thing before.

For the first time in as long as can be described in any way, anyone could be separated from their mortal bodies and find themselves inside the heads, even from this new state of nothingness. For the first time, it would be their first thought, they would find themselves in a state of desperation, a state of chaos, and when they close their eyes, their desperation of something, a hint of existence, a feeling of belonging, would be answered by their thirst and the death brung upon by the heads of Greed.

The field of ribs, riddled with wounds. Bone sticking out of the broken gaps. Lungs, seeping with blood.

Each sin, even those that survive, the severed tendons, the crushed skulls, the charred skin, they eventually succumb to the despair that lies inside this field, an incarnation of misery, a breeding ground for despair.

The field of ribs; found deep within the bodies of the Heads of Greed.

In the darkest part of their souls, there lies a seed of pain and despair.

Their only hope, to find and extinguish this seed of suffering, this seed of hopelessness, of despair.

But they know it's all for nothing. They are powerless, as their souls seek redemption. But in the end, only the blackness, the nothingness, the echo of their pain, can be heard and seen in the field.

Within the smoke and the dust, the crimson eyes of heads of Greed turned inward. The crimson flesh; giving way to the white of the skull. What can be called the sky, in truth, is merely a white sheet. It falls upon a man, whose uniform is replaced by his own skin, and whose thoughts are just as the blood of the sin he committed:

"I wish I could feel anything again."

I uttered this. And I am still alive. In the last moments of my existence, I still lived, yet I felt something.

The screams of horror, of agony, of despair all continue to make the air thicker. 

The ribs crack, the skin splitting, but they are still silent, they are not seen by the masses in this state, they are lone, isolated figures, clinging to a spark of light that they believe is their salvation.

For the final stage of this kind of demon, the heads of Greed, that stare at me, and every other sinner within, is nothing more than a fevered delusion of a desperate hope.

Sooner or later, something began to shift. Was it the flesh of their bodies? Or was it the bone of their minds? No, the first could not be explained by mere meat, the second was unknown. The only answer, as we stare at them, is: Nothing.

But still, the beast existed in them, the one that desires to give birth to a new form. A new incarnation. A new monster. It was in a state of change, in a state of confusion.

It was an impossibility, yet the sinners, refused to accept it, to accept the world as they knew it. Yet, that only led them deeper down the hole that had them. And they had no way to help themselves.

No more could they hide, from that echoing voice that had no form, that had no sound. The voice, had no source. It was as if it was invisible, yet had a source, yet did not know its source. It just existed, bearing its imprint, its vile mark, upon every sinner.

And so it began to utter words that cracked my soul and destroyed my sanity; words that tore out the innocence of my soul. Words that shredded my existence as it was.

The words that gave birth to disease. That turned everything in that world into a pile of ash.

The words that became the torture of god's flame, feeding on the beast of the man that would not have the strength to kill himself.

The words that created a monster that made the sinners' devils into the body that knows no pleasure, and no suffering.

And thus, it uttered the final thing i'd ever heard, and it was the last thing i'd ever see. I was unable to comprehend the sound, let alone if there was a sound to begin with.

I saw a red horizon.

I was about to meet the enthroned sun, my savior. My death would mean nothing, because I already knew my answer. I knew I would have answered it all, and so, I ran, as fast as I could, as I felt my feet start to slip on the droplets of blood that covered the streets. I fell to the ground. The sky was filled with nothing but Heads of Greed, sizes that were more than just small. Each and every one had its own skull. Some had wicked smiles, and other, others, had distorted, monstrous ones.

Some had the same eyes as my creator, but others had eyes that showed me what humanity was truly like.

I was not there. It had already begun. My mind was already strained. I was seeing all but my eyes could not. In a state of panic, I climbed a tall hill and dared to look down. 

I wish I hadn't. I wish I had never looked down, but I did.

I saw a mass of bodies lying, lying all around me. They were… dragged, and staked to the ground. I felt my chest constrict, and I lost the rest of my breath.

Not a single part of their existence registered to me. It was not until I looked down, and saw a clear, red sunset in the distance, that was rushing to meet me. I was unable to move. I tried to get up, and run away, but my body could not take it anymore. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I tried to shift my gaze, and when I did, I saw an image.

A figure was standing above my body, a brutal and malformed figure that could only be described as something out of my nightmares. I saw teeth that appeared to be made of shards of glass, only held together by the blood in them, not to mention the bile they contained. I saw a mess of muscles bulge from it's malformed skeleton. The worst part, the part that left me dumbfounded, was that it had eyes, eyes that held no light, but a vicious gaze that made my fear flare with hatred. It was the only thing I saw, before the world began to fade around me.

A light, a light of a the color that I had never seen before, that only existed in nightmares, began to surround me. It swirled around me, and gave me the last thing my senses would ever come to contact with.

Was it doom? Was it Death? Was it God? Was it Hope? Was it Hell? Was it… something completely new?

I don't know. I had already lost my mind. I couldn't bear to think any longer. I just silently wished for everything to end. 

And as soon as I was prepared, I was not prepared.

Suddenly, a flash of light.

And as suddenly as the flash of light faded, I saw my body, not one, not two. It was uncountable. It was a number I could not, and would not, describe. It appeared to be a million people, but, they were all me. Each and every one of my life-forms, my bodies, were arranged in the form of a spiral. They circled me, around me, and I was surrounded by them.

The greed in their eyes, that desire for destruction and death, had been mine, my creation, even though I had no memory of having made it.

How is this possible?

It was a dream. A nightmare. I was no more. I wasn't existing anymore. I was within myself, separated from all that I had known. Null of all emotion.

I was the figure, the man that I saw in my nightmares.

And so, I destroyed myself with all that I was.

All that I was... was a darkness that consumed. Like a sun that burned down all the shadows, until it had nothing to burn but itself.