Gaigah

[Hell, The Twelfth Circle of Heresy, Gaigah]

At the very center of the net above me are the severed hands of those who attempted to climb into Targah.

I found it weird how loosely these two circles were connected, but when I fell here, I phased through the net as if it were air.

The net looked as if it were caught in a dense fog, it is possible this was the reason for the intense heat I felt.

That, and the lack of blood in the area. 

It hadn't been long since I was here, but I've already seen a plethora of almost rotten men, women and even children attempting to climb up towards Norgah. I don't see why they want to rise. It doesn't seem as if being anywhere in hell is better than another, at least, not better than here, as through passing Norgah, I've caught wind of its punishment.

It's sad to see children in Hell, I mean, they're still just kids, how are they meant to know about sin that they commit in life?

And how could they know that they'd be one of the ones to pay for it?

As for parents, it's depressing to know that your children would go to Hell for such an insignificant sin.

There's a reason why hell has been opened up so wide and this 'Sea of Sorrows' being the apotheosis of that!

The Sea of Sorrows. I'm not sure exactly how it spread, but it did so quickly that I was aware of it. However, this has been the designated name for this particular area of Gaigah, at least given by the others. 

As I gaze at it, I can see where it starts and where it ends. It stretches for far out into the empty desert, there is nothing in between.

At this point, I'd like to venture into the desert, maybe there is something in there.

Albeit it's called a Sea, it's more of a pool of gore at this point.

And it does seem as if there is an abyss separating the pool from the ocean, but I can't see how this would be, from what I can see, the ocean is the opposite of this.

The more I study Gaigah's structure, the more dreamlike it becomes.

It begins with the pit that I am in, with that net of rotting arms.

It's as if it is held up by only these bones, the skeletal remains of those it has consumed.

But even above that first net, there seem to be two others. 

The second net is almost the exact same as the first, although this time, there seem to be more bodies, full, skeletal bodies from millennia ago, most likely. There're no chunks of flesh or anything, but rather, it appears as if these bodies have mostly rotted away.

It's hard to say how the Third net is , the only way I can describe it is it's as if these bodies have been frozen in time, as if time has stopped here.

And then I start to notice the structure of Gaigah's ground and the walls.

The ground is coloured like a rainbow, almost blood red, but in very fine grained stone.

In fact, it appears as if some of the rocks here may be alive.

I can never catch it, but sometimes, I could hear a really low, almost resonant hum coming from somewhere near, but I can never see where it is coming from. The noise always disappears when I look towards it.

Sometimes, the rocks seem to shake when I look at them.

Or rather, I could see something inside the rocks.

However, I never see any limbs or skulls.

It's as if they're just out of view and I never fully see what it is that I'm seeing.

The walls are very grey, like the walls of a decrepit roman ruin, but they're made of pure, black, polished stones that appear as if they were carved out of a giant fossil.

What makes it even more interesting is that they seem to be branching off in many different directions.

They remind me of me.

Everywhere I turn, I end up in the same place.

It's like I'm stuck in a giant maze, and I don't know how to get out.

Ahead of me, there's only a solid wall of black, of rocky and coarse stones.

It feels as if I've been staring into an upside deep pit, upside down, as I stare at the accumulating gore.

At the corners of the pit however, are entrances to the sea of sorrows, or so I think is what it is. some of the entrances act as mere windows; or rather, balconies, just lacking the rails.

Some of them lead down to an endless catacomb which I can see from some of the other entrances. It seems that, once I have ventured inside, there is no way to get out.

There's also a wall of skulls, and chunks of flesh to go with them.

Some of them are horribly mutilated and clearly the work of serpents and other vile creatures.

But for the most part, they are fairly intact, so I guess some of them were eaten by the giant and almost scaly humanoid that I have seen swimming around the sea of sorrows. 

From some of these entrances, I can see the desert, far away. I want to swim to it, and the itch is growing stronger as time passes. But it's subdued by my fear of the sea of sorrows.

One entrance, however, I have seen others come out of. I've managed to catch a glimpse of it's insides; it's a well.

It's blue, almost the colour of the sky, but it's like water.

I don't know what it was doing there.

It's not moving, and when I approach it, it turns its head towards me.

Or more so, the head inside the well turns, and the position of the eyes seems to become magnified, but the position of the head itself is fixed.

However, the eyes that I see in the well don't look like eyes at all; they look like eels, but with very large pupils, as if they were made of diamond.

They're surrounded by a black sclerotic ring around the irises.

The eyes lock with mine, and I don't have time to blink.

I felt enamored by their beauty.

It seems like there's a whole world going on inside those creatures, with its own internal narrative, and it seemed almost like its main characters, and we're merely the audience.

But that was, however long ago it was. I knew that whoever returned from the well, returned into a completely different form. Many, many men returned with nothing but stories to tell, but they weren't of sound mind; they weren't always conscious when they came back.

One of the last ones that I recall in detail, left his body behind.

It was lying on the floor, outside the well.

Its skin was almost liquid, and from the final few threads of tendon, I could see the black writhing intestines and viscera which connected to it's organs and formed the 'outer' shell.

The head was completely detached from the body itself, only loosely connected by a pair of tentacle like tendons.

I guess it's obvious, how this could have happened, but it really showed how fragile and frail the human body is. It was a young man, I could tell.

Looking at yet another entrance, this one might be an entrance to what I could only describe as, 'Hell within Hell', at least from my observations.

It's an infinite pit of death and despair, and the raw screams and moans that came out from the entrance made me want to vomit. The face of this man made me want to weep.

I couldn't tell his age.

He seemed like a young man, but with a round face and a shock of black hair.

His eyes were open, wide and staring outwards with fear.

He appeared, even from a distance, like he was filled with some unspeakable pain.

His right arm ended in a talon, and I think it was the talon that scared me the most.

He was standing, and was looking me as if I was some sort of hideous beast.

His mouth was open in a silent scream, and a thick black slimy substance slowly oozed out of the sides of his mouth. He kept staring at me, and then the talon extended, it stretched almost a foot wide, as if his skin had caught fire, and was melting away, in slow motion.

I think it was turning to stone.

All of a sudden, the fluid seemed to break and slid onto his face, dripping down onto his skull, melting his eyes in place of their sockets.

The liquid formed into a dry, leathery skin, and in place of the skull, the Talon transformed into a fleshy tusk.

I can see the indescribable colours of the sea of sorrows from all around seeping onto him, but the water appears as a black, viscous substance, like tar.

His mouth remained open, but the strange fluid, which turned to stone, now makes it look like he has a hundred mouths, like a beholder. He stood still, unmoving. I think he was unable to move during my entire watch, but his expression, even at the distance, remained unchanged.

Perhaps I wasn't really looking at him.

Maybe I only saw a statue, one of hundreds, a living statue, sculpted to show the power of Hell.

His expression alone however, struck me as very odd.

He did not look sad, angry, or anything.

I can't even describe his expression, but I can clearly see that his eyes are glassy, and that it's as if he sees right into your soul. Had this been what he had become due to his torture? Or was this what he had always been? I had no idea, but at that point, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't afraid.

An array of men and women, clawing at the walls, while a dark mist, thicker than blood slowly poured out into the room.

A few of the women were sleeping in between them, seemingly as they always did, but others were scratching and clawing, their screams and pleads no longer made a noise. Their fingernails had been practically torn off by the clawing and scratching. I lost count how many had been swallowed by that mist. The mist itself; as far as I had known, had no name. 

The mist however, called itself Death. But why would death, the very concept that we've been taught that was the ultimate annihilation of all living things, be such a shapeless lump? I wasn't really sure, I mean, it's not like I'd seen it before. 

Perhaps death could come in different shapes and forms?

Perhaps it would have the form of a beast, or a dark creature that loped upon four powerful legs.

Perhaps it would be big enough to swallow anything, just by using its teeth. 

The end of death was clear, it was where the death of those who clawed began. The ones who slept were spared, however they didn't seem rested. I didn't see what became of them by the end of each cycle; nor did I care to study them as much as those who clawed.

The room itself was depressing; dim grey bricks on the walls and floor, rusty metallic beds with no mattress on them and a single dim lamp inside the walls. I wasn't even sure of what entrance lead to that room, but it only intensified my fear of having to move eventually. 

I only know of the inevitability of having to move, entering into one of the many rooms, which lay before me, each a solid grey stone wall with no window, doors or floor.

I didn't want to enter these rooms. 

Looking elsewhere, most of these rooms hold a view of the desert, which I hadn't decide to observe till now.

Studying it however came difficult; the brown sand appears to look like gray rock.

Then again, there was a lack of any discernible features on it, no plants or animals in the arid desert. 

A majority of the desert was shrouded by the sea of sorrows, and occasionally completely obstructed by the giant humanoid that swims within. I'm not sure what it's called; but I believe it's called Legion.

Sometimes I see men swim across, desperately attempting to reach land, sometimes I see shadows of people wading through the waters. The only colors I've seen are a dark red and a very dark blue; not the color of water at all.

The sea of sorrows can never seem to calm, likely due to the force of that horrifying giant, that swallows those who try to swim.

Legion, or whatever the name of the creature is, apparently is always at the surface, or perhaps it can only be seen from above?

It's really hard to tell.

It lets out a high pitched screech, that is as piercing and terrifying as it is loud; while it also alternates between moving around, and diving into the depths of the water.

The screech sometimes seems to resemble a cry; such a horrible one, like sinners in unison, shrieking in unison.

Though there is no end to this nightmare, the sound is rather comical in contrast.

I find myself envying the likes of those that drown in their fear, although I'm not sure why.

Maybe it's because they will never see Legion again, or perhaps it's because they'll never feel fear again.

Then again, if the sea of sorrows exists, then I'm sure that fear, and other senses, would cease to exist.

Legion itself; a swirling mass of blood red, and blotchy blue.

It is not quite different to a mass of smoke and powder, as it does sometime leave that behind when diving into the waters.

Its mouth is agape, yet never seems to close; a horrible vision of a monstrous horse or bird head, with rows of serrated teeth like a shark.

The edges of the mouth are stained brown, as if whatever it takes, it pulls it from a canvas.

I have no idea what it does with the blood, but it must be worth it to it.

I've seen a couple of times where Legion'd vomit, however, which is likely why the sea of sorrows has turned into the pool of gore that it is now.

Legion's eyes are an identical color, and are filled with crimson, and in the iris is a crimson colored slit, almost like a madman's eye, which were on fire.

One moment you would be looking at a terrified face, then in an instant, the face would be stained with blood, the blood smeared across the victim's face.

Somewhere far away, the screech and shriek of Legion echoed enough to cause the sea to jump.

But that's all I've ever seen of Legion, the creature seems... elusive of my observation, or any, at that.

The desert however, that I think Legion protects, appears to be barren of life.

Not a thing grows in it, not a tree, nor a bush, or blade of grass.

Well, of course, it's a desert.

But, it is more depressing than that, somehow.

I've managed to spot an irregularity, however. 

On the first visible dune, at the very peak, a little, perfectly green and red bush grows.

Some plants, being green, are rare, and some plants, being red, are even rarer.

It seems to me that this little plant is special, but I'm not sure why.

It doesn't grow to live as a plant, but it grows to live as an animal.

My Time is up. 

At this moment, I can only think of one thing: how much I want to make it back to the face that once spoke to me from the shadows of the sea of sorrows. 

Or, should I say, the mask?

The things it used to say to me.

They're the reason I lasted so long in here.

The mask; made of stone and sculpted into perfection, I could tell.

It had a male volent look to it, yet, with a hint of authority in it's expressionless. The right side of the mask, a feminine face, contrary to the elitist look of the left side, it was a silent gaze into the distance.

The only sign of movement on the mask, and a trait which other prisoners notice when they gaze upon it, is the slight lifting of the left eye to the right.

Its voice was soft, like the heart of the ocean, but hard, like the look of the face that I speak of. It felt as if it was both of the sides speaking at once; but they shared mouth. They both spoke the same words, but with different meanings.

It would speak one sentence, and then stare at me, perhaps speaking a different thought altogether.

But my memory of its teachings and tomes, is spotty at best.

But as my Time was up, I looked up to the net, the fog that shrouds it , and for the first time in... well, I can't remember how long I've been in here, I feel safe. Alright, I can see it now.

Those lifeless red eyes; staring, coming to take me. 

They don't feel human anymore.

They feel more like the eyes of some being, inhuman, cold, mocking.

But as safe as I felt at that moment; it trickled away as my own blood dripped onto the ground.

I only pray that I die on the spot, if not sooner.

When I do fall over, my hands are slowly removed from the stone that houses me.

It doesn't feel as if it is mine, as I thought it would.

This is another side to the mask.

It wouldn't let me feel a thing but pain and suffering.

Its voice, taunting, quiet.

Heavenly, even.

I've never heard its voice before, and despite the beauty in it; what I felt was overwhelming.

"You will not die..." It taunted me.

"You will be here... for always.

Forever, if you let me."

It paused.

"Do you understand?"

I knew I didn't, but I was afraid that if I understood, then my punishment would be worse than that of the screams of those in the sea of sorrows.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

It taunted.

My jaw was caught locked, my teeth were shattered, yet the mask was silent.

It laughed, hollow and cold.

And then, the last thing I'd ever heard was the clatter of the cart, a wail of pain that wasn't mine; then, nothing.