Norgah

[Hell, The Eighth circle of Wrath, Norgah]

Screams of angry men, screams of agony, screams of anger, voices of evil.

Those are the screams of chaos, destruction, violence. They rattle the windows of the frozen hell, sounding like terror. And yet, the cries are still filled with rage, the anguish of those who suffered, still suffering.

Just like the others before me, I woke here too, body in pain, but a pain that induces me to try and move.

My skin is blackened, the flesh has been charred black, a scalding ember of the night. My skin is putrid, yet the smell isn't that bad. The smell is more of ash, the mere memory of what lies within.

Despite my blackened skin, it almost doesn't make sense. The landscape around me is nothing more than ash, from both the fires of hate and the destruction. But, that's not it, it's cold, no, not cold, it's frozen. 

So why is my skin burnt, almost as if I'm from a fire? That's one of the least of my questions. The other one, why am I blackened, and where are the screams coming from?

I climb up the staircase. Even though the stairs are made of ice, I seem to be able to move on it without any issue, but my hands seem to be frozen. 

But through the pain, I can still hear the voices. It's just as loud as before, they don't seem to mind the cold, as if they want to torture me.

I continue climbing, desperately clawing at the fiery walls. My grasp seems to be getting weaker, and I can feel the cold fires around me, like it's trying to eat me, or rather, trying to crush me.

Through the screaming and gnashing of teeth, I continue, trying to escape.

Eventually, I reach the top, but I have no clue where to go from here. I can feel pain in my legs, as if I'm burning inside of my flesh. I'm hungry, I want to eat, but my body doesn't seem to have the ability to swallow anymore, and this all amounts to a greater anger within. 

Now that I'm at the top, the voices are even louder, and it seems they are somewhere behind me.

I slowly walk backwards without thinking, but I fall, unable to control my body.

I hit the ashy, cold and fiery ground, the screams sounding as if they are right next to me.

As I regain my senses, I'm able to stand up, my hands are still cold and raw, but I can move without much of a hassle.

A man pushes on to me, his angry screams piercing my ears.

'God, can you not shut up? I want to be calm, why do you have to be so loud? you could at least understand, because you're pissing me off.' I almost blurt out, but I keep the thought to myself.

Your pain is consuming me, I can feel it, I want to cry, I want to cry in spite of the pain, to relieve my anguish. But I can't, I need to rid of this inconvenience, I want to kill it, make it pay for what it has done.

The man in front of me, who is of a fairly average appearance, begins to speak.

"You want me to shut up? I can see that on your face, your torn up body, and what the hell is that scar on your chest? What the fuck are you?"

"Shut up!" I screamed, losing control of my body.

"You want me to shut up? Like you shut up? I'm you, you son of a bitch, you want me to shut up? FUCK YOU! YOU WANT ME TO SHUT UP? I CAN'T!"

I throw my fist straight into his gut, my fist hard enough to break ribs.

"I'm telling you to shut up! I'm telling you to SHUT UP!" My voice continues to get louder and louder, almost blending in with the screams of the other men. 

I wrap my hands around his neck, crushing his neck. I can hear the cracking of his neck as I press tighter.

His screams subside, as he falls to the ground. I grab his shoulders, slamming him into the concrete. I raise my body into the air, pressing my feet into his stomach. I slam into his head, cracking his skull and snapping his neck again.

Blood is seeping out, I let go of his shoulders, my breath is coming in gasps, my blood pumping more than ever before, rushing with adrenaline.

The landscape around me, which now I can fully observe, is about what I'd expect of hell, or at least, the circle of violence. 

A red, burning landscape, with an ashy atmosphere, yet, despite all the fires, it's far too cold. Nothing can be charred in this temperature, but perhaps the fire can take it's effect despite that.

I was hit on the head by another man. I closed my eyes, but instead of focusing on anything, I felt the blood seeping down my face. He battered my body, my legs as weak as paper, only able to sustain the pain if I push through it, using my arms to push my body forward, so blood can flow.

I feel his forearm smash into my chest, sending a wave of greater pain through my body. I was unable to fight back, I had already expended my energy. But as I manage to open my eyes, the man violating me... was the same?

He had the same appearance as the man that I had just killed. Not to mention, the scar I have was on his chest.

I felt my right shoulder break, I felt the crack echo through my body, trying to shake my mind, to free it, but I couldn't free myself. I was in the inferno of Hell.

I felt another guy's hand pull my head, trying to rip it off. I began to thrash around, but was not able to move at all, my body was frozen.

My body broke, I tried to lift my head, to try and see what was happening to me, but my whole body gave out on me. I was going to be murdered, and despite my attempts to escape, I was going to be killed.

I felt a sharp pain in my chest, I let out a scream, tears running down my face. But these weren't tears of sorrow, they were tears of anger, burning with rage.

...

Somewhere within my body, there was once life.

The life of a soul, once immortal.

The life that I once was, once knew.

Yet, I am beyond the feeling of pain. For I feel nothing but rage.

All the former creatures around me are dead. Their bodies covered in blood and ash.

They are all dead, I'm no longer in control of my body, consumed by all the hate I feel.

These men, with all the exact same faces, the exact body and voice. How could I only realize now?

I am fighting myself. 

I, too, was the demon.

I had been fighting them all along, for them, for all of them.

I am a murderer, and my words now... are poison.

I am an embodiment of evil.

If I hadn't killed myself, these men would've killed everyone I knew. Their actions would've spread, and the deaths would've been everywhere.

But alas, I am in hell, left with nothing but anger, and a path of pain and murder .

I, too, am a mass murderer.

I have to die, in order to pay for the sins I have committed.

But here, I am unable to die, forced to fight back .

I will have to pay with my soul, for eternity.

I started to fight the people around me, slaughtering them.

This'll be the fate of mine, with no mind to speak of, but a soul, a body, and a body of evil to haunt myself in my wake.