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An Ode to The Inferno
By Hell's_Devil_Warrior, the most infamous member in this joint.
Ode based by Dante Alighieri's Divine Comedy's first part, the Inferno
By Hell's_Devil_Warrior, the most infamous member in this joint.
Ode based by Dante Alighieri's Divine Comedy's first part, the Inferno
Darkness awaits those who sinned for all eternity, to travel through a dark forest, the clear path lost, and those nine who’ve confused in life, chased by the indulgent wolf, the violent lion and the malicious leopard. Guided by a man long since passed, he is like a sage, wisdom beyond my years, and yours as well, as he leads on through the dark forest, the confused and lost following him like a flock of sheep to a shepherd.
Nine butterflies flock behind the guide and the lost, eagerly were their bodies afloat in the air. The forest grows darker as the man walked in deeper, ignoring the darkness as he was used to it. A cave yawned open, with dark and terrible words plaqued atop the entrance, with the last words the most horrifying: “Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here”. All light lost, the butterflies and the lost edge closer to their guide as to not astray from him and shivered when screams started to start, scaring the stray stiff.
On the shores of the River Acheron, on the borders of the first Realm of the Underworld, the souls here argue about everything and anything. Charon, ferryman of this wretched plain of woe, barks at the souls tainted enough to be punished in the eight inner circles of the Underworld. He strikes with his oar, the sound of wood striking tender flesh echoing in the dank air, those who show reluctance to be boarded on. The boatman leads the man and the lost onto his boat, but not before hitting a butterfly who fluttered too closely to him and sending the unfortunate insect over into the River, it trying to breathe, stay afloat and reach shore, yet its comrades left it behind, the eight remaining resting on the nine lost.
It is here, the first realm of the Underworld, called Limbo, where the virtuous pagans and those good born before Christ reside, who lived just lives, but were never baptized, where the wise reside. Here, the famous Greeks and Roman poets reside, like Homer and Virgil. The souls here live in relative comfort, and their punishment is the denial of them entering Paradise.
Along the borders of Limbo and the second plain of woe, Lust, King Minos resides, once was man, now his lower body’s a snake’s, his eyes glassed over, but he is not dead, just blind. He uses his snake body to judge the souls by how much he coils his foul tail around the condemn’s middle, as if he was to crush the soul in his tail. Winged demons escort souls that have been judged into the seven deeper circles, while Minos himself throws the lustful into Lust, a realm where Queen Cleopatra reigns. Beyond Minos, Lust is bombarded by a perpetual galestorm with souls either riding the fierce winds or are embedded into the stone floor, them separated far enough where they cannot touch each other unless something rips them out.
Here in Lust, those whose lives are filled with wild abandon, to have been succumbed to the flesh, ride the wild wind, the metaphysical symbol of their choices in life, while those who were in love with earthly goods are embedded into the very earth they love. Another butterfly lost, sucked into the mighty gale that encircles this plain. A tower juts out of the ground surrounded by the gale’s fiercest winds, the top topped with a throne that marked where Cleopatra resides, a harem of men at her beck and call, with Helen of Troy as her commanding officer. Ignoring the booming gusts and the loud shrieks and moans, the nine lost and seven butterflies, hunkered down in the lost’s clothing, continued, shepherd by their guide.
The guide ushers them to the entrance of the third plain of woe, Gluttony, where the gluttons reside. At the entrance, guarding this dank realm is the fabled and equally feared three-headed hellhound Cerberus, watchdog of this wretched plain. The matted coat of the cur, once an shiny obsidian, now a host of colors, ruined by blood and the dank liquids this circle for the gluttons does secrets, bulging muscles and skin where fur is bare, wicked talons and fangs, glistening in the madness of hunger. An unfortunate butterfly strayed too close and the vicious fangs of that foul beast tore into the frail thing, the three heads devouring it. The guide raised and struck the fell beast with his staff of hickory wood, the beast backing off from the lost.
Gluttony is the home of the gluttons and the hoarders of the meal. Clouds of liquid excrement rain on the populous and a river of excrement moves through this foul realm. Here, the souls who stole food from others are robbed of their limbs that grow back, while those who ate to alleviate stress or depression are picked at by winged imps that also rob the feast robbers of their limbs, while those who fell in love with food try to eat food, but all the food quickly rots away to sludge. All punishment in this and other punishments in the previous and beyond circles will continue until Helio’s realm reaches Gaia’s and our own. Forging on, the guide, the nine lost and now six butterflies went, leaving the gluttons to wallow in the filth they created, leaving this cold, wet realm behind.
Coldness was a feeling that didn’t last, as it soon was replace with heat, and a lot of it.
Up ahead was the fourth plain of woe, Greed, where the avaricious or hoarders and the
profligates or wasters are sent after their judging. Compared to its predecessor Gluttony, Greed is
mechanical, soulless gears and platforms clatter on. Yet another butterfly lost, its wing caught
aflame from the sheer heat the molten river of gold that flows through here exudes. Some of the
worst of the hoarders and the wasters have been crudely sewn together at the hip, an act that even
the man who had played God could considers the act horrifying and immoral. Some of the more
daring sinners gather at the river of molten gold, trying to get the molten gold, only for it to flow
through their fingers and scald their hands. In the river further in, the upmost worst sinners of the
hoarders and wasters are placed, boiled alive in the very riches they stashed or spend. The
hoarders and wasters here not in the scalding river also joust, carrying great stone weights then
slam it into their foe’s own, and the screams echo, “Why do you hoard?! Why do you waste?!”
throughout this foul realm.
They trudged on, until they beheld the embodiment of this heinous plain: Plutus, the
fallen pagan Roman god of wealth. Once, this being was a handsome god, but now his skin and
his entire self are metallic gold, himself as still as a statue, a golden wheel fused into his back,
studded with jewels as big as a human’s torso, and a crown atop his head, also studded with
jewels, sticking out in wild directions from atop his brow. Beyond him lies a huge wheel with
pictures of torturing methods embedded into it, spinning oh so slowly to the crowd standing in
front of the dark contraption. This be the Wheel of Fortune, a vile device that does the job of
delivering the punishments to the sinners of this circle. The lost, herded by their guide, left in a
hurry, but not fast enough, as a sudden chorus of terrible shrieking came from behind them, such
shrieks that can make even the bravest cower and illicit terrible dreams imagined from Hypnos’
mind.
The heat continues to make the lost weak as they left Greed behind. The answer to the
continuing heat lies ahead in Anger, the fifth plain of woe. A lava plain lies in front of them, the
first part of the vile circle. This is where the worst of the those who were angry at everything, or
the wrathful, reside, where those that are always bitter and short-tempered. Their punishment is
to stack a pile of rocks that always falls apart and crush their feet. One hate-filled soul grabbed a
butterfly that flew beside a lost, crushing it in his hands to channel his rage elsewhere. The guide
struck the soul with his staff, barking at him to leave them..
The guide, nine lost and now four butterflies continued on, covering their ears from all
the spoken hate in the form of vile words, until finally, the heat started to go away, but a foul
stench unlike that of Gluttony’s own started to replace it. Another river awaited them, waiting for
to be crossed, yet “swamp” better defines this place. This is the famous Underworld river, the
River Styx, where the rest of the wrathful can be found, as well those who were angry at
themselves or overcome by laziness, the slothful. Like the River Acheron and Charon, the River
Styx has a ferryman in the form of Phlegyas, a bitter crone that ferry the heretics, the violent, the
Fraudulent, and the betrayers to the city beyond Anger’s borders and on the far shore of the Styx.
For the angry, he takes them across the river and kicks them in. Knowing the guide is a denizen
of Limbo and the lost still draw breath, he will not cause incident as he takes them across the
putrid swamp of the River Styx.
Along the River Styx, even the dim could tell which soul is a wrathful and who is a
slothful in this realm. The wrathful wage war amongst each other and struggled to keep afloat, as
the water here is heavier than earthly water, while the slothful stay underwater, sulking and
wallowing in their self-pity and self-hate. Phlegyas struck with his oar those wrathful who got
too close to the boat or tried to climb up it. Finally, for what felt like hours that creped on, they
finally arrived at the far shore of the River Styx, the lost all too glad to leave the boat and the
cursed river behind them. Giving Phlegyas two pieces a person, the guide caught up with the lost
and beyond them was a crooked bridge, embedded in it inverted crosses and below a bottomless
chasm. And standing in front of them is what is believed to be such a fortress, but this is known
as the treacherous and feared City of Dis, where the heretics, the violent, the fraudulent, and the
betrayers are sent for punishment, as it houses the sixth through ninth plains of woe.
The doors of the damned city tower above them, with the sentries consisting of the fallen
angels, fell from God’s grace and favor, and almost immediately barred the guide and the nine
lost entry into Dis. The guide tryst to reason with the fallen angels, but from the pitted walls of
Dis, slithering out from the many crevices this broken city has, comes the Furies, demons with a
gorgon-like body, landing along with the fallen angels. They shriek at the lost, threatening their
lives with the gorgon’s severed head, and them saying that not even the strong demigod will
come to save them, like he did to the slayer of the Minotaur who failed to bring back the harvest
goddess’ daughter from Hades. All of a sudden, a burst of heavenly light flares at the entrance of
Dis, scaring away the Furies and the fallen angels. The source of the light revealed itself to be an
angel, a pristine creature of purity and divine fury, who only scowled at the guide, who revealed
to the lost that he is the man who helped a previous lost ascend into Paradise. The angel then
opens the doors to the city Dis, and in front of them, awaiting them is the sixth plain of woe,
Heresy.
Unlike the indulgent sins, where it is four circles strong, from Lust to Anger, Dis is home
to Lower and Nether-Hell, where the darker sins the human soul can commit are sent. Lower
Hell houses the violent circles of Heresy and Violence, while Nether-Hell houses the malicious
circles of Fraud and Treachery. Here in Heresy, the sixth circle, the true heretics, those who have
been violent against their religion, are sent. Not even the mighty papacy can protect the followers
from Minos’ judging, as his word is absolute, and their punishment is to be trapped in a stone
box embedded into the wall of Dis’ interior strapped to a inverted symbol of the religion that
they were violent to, and set aflame for all eternity, healing and burning at the same time.
Another butterfly lost, its wing caught aflame from the heat, similar to its comrade’s death in
Greed.
Trudging on, the guide, the nine lost and now three butterflies spiral downward walking
down the plain, passing the screaming of the heretics, wailing for forgiveness in a dimension that
offers none to its inhabitants, their pleas falling on deaf ears of their demonic neighbors.. As they
exit Heresy by passing the fiery tombs of the popes and Abraham, they smell an iron-like scent,
and have come to a sight of the Minotaur blocking their path. With some choice word from the
guide, the bovine beast flew into a fury, allowing the lost and the guide to enter the next circle,
and the lost were shocked at the scene that laid in front of them. A huge river made of not water,
but boiling blood yawned in front of them with people wailing in pain. Along the shores were
centaurs aiming with a bow and arrow to send those who’ve try to escape from the putrid river.
This is the seventh plain of woe, Violence, and ahead is the River Phlegethon, where those
who’ve done violence to others are submerged into the blood of their victims in measurement of
the sins they have done to their victims. Alexander the Great, for starters, is submerged up to his
eyebrows in his war victim’s blood, with Adolf Hitler completely submerged in the blood of his
victims he slaughtered for his crimes.
Chiron, the leader of the centaurs here, orders fellow centaur Nessus to help the guide
and the lost across the blood-filled river. Nessus knew better than to betray Chiron, and helped
the company across the river’s small inlets where centaur sentries snipe any soul trying to leave
the river all inhabit. After some careful shuffling and positioning, Nessus got the nine lost and
their guide across the river of pitch-like blood, and beyond the river resides the second section of
Violence, the Wood of Suicides, where those who were violent against themselves. Here, those
who’ve killed themselves are turned into gnarled, thorny trees and bushes, having given up their
bodies due to them rejecting their own body, their corpses hanging from their branches. While
those who were violent against others had arching centaurs, here in the Wood of Suicides, the
suicides have harpies tearing into them. Also, people who wasted everything they own are sent
here instead of Greed, because they weren’t done as so they gain something new or as a reward.
Their punishment for committing a sin like this is to be chased through the gnarly undergrowth,
with ravenous dogs behind them ready to tear into their bodies should they slip.
Leaving behind the suicides and the self-profligates, the lost and the guide exited the
Woods and experienced heat all too soon once more as they approach the Desert of Burning
Sands, where those who were violent against God, nature, and order are sent and fire rains down
on the populous. Down here, the so called “just warriors” of the Crusades are sent, as they killed
others of a similar religion in His name. For the Desert, there are three groups that are punished
here: the blasphemers, who were violent against God, lie in the burning sands; the sodomites,
who were violent against nature, sit upright in the hot grains; and the usurers, who were violent
against order, walk in wandering groups though the incinerating desert. A butterfly flapped
ahead of them, eager to get out of this wretched plain, and was promptly incinerated by the fiery
rain. The guide lead the nine lost, covering the last two butterflies still alive in their clothing,
safely through the Desert with some help from the shades, or the souls sent down into Hell.
Finally, they made it out of Violence, only for the realm beyond them boast total
darkness, with screams of agony emitting from the ditch beyond them. This is the eighth plain of
woe, Fraud, where the liars are sent for their just punishment. Standing on a ledge ready to take
off is Geryon, the guardian of this vile realm. Mutated from his original form as a multi-bodied
and headed giant, Geryon is a combination from various creatures: A honest man’s face, the
wings of a bat, the body of a lion, and the tail of a scorpion. Taking the lost and the guide onto
his back, he glides down, spiraling like an avian scavenger that brings signs of death. After a
rather dizzying descent, they arrive at the first of the foul sections of Fraud’s broad realm. Fraud
is divided into ten sections, each holding a different breed of liar and a unique punishment for a
different kind of liar. Each section is called a bolgie, and are collectively known as the
Malebolge, in the Italian tongue meaning “evil pocket” and each one holds a different fraudulent,
or those who’ve done deliberate and knowing evil to others for gain.
They got off of Geryon and arrived at the first of the bolgie, where the pimps and the
seducers are sent to, but are first put in a dark and dank cave; representing the darkness of the
human soul as the deeper they go. Like what the guide once said: “Here a good soul never
passes”. Below them, in the bolgie, like the way they have mislead people in life, their
punishment is to be lead by whip-wielding demons that led them aimlessly around their bolgie. A
butterfly tried to see what was going on, but one of the demons cracked its whip at it, severing it
in half. Continuing on through a crusty and rickety stone bridge, they came across the second of
the bolgie, is where the flatters reside. Their punishment is to wallow in excrement from
Gluttony, which reflects what the seemingly kind words they have said to others was nothing but
what they now wallow in. Continuing on, the guide and the nine lost crossed the bridge they still
walk on to the next of the vile subsections of Fraud. Here, in the third bolgie, those who’ve
committed thesin of simony, or the crime of paying for holy offices or positions in the hierarchy
of a church, thus named after Simon Magus, are sent. Their punishment in this condemned plain
is to be buried up to their waist in holes in the rock which resemble baptismal fonts with their
feet on fire in an inverted baptism. Some of the more corrupt Popes, such as Pope Nicholas III,
Pope Boniface VIII, and Pope Clement V, can be found here. Beyond the simonists, in the fourth
bolgie, which was the next destination for the guide leading the lost and the last butterfly, is
where the sorcerers and the false prophets are sent. Their punishment is their head placed
backwards and are blinded by their tears. Like all other punishments in Hell, this is poetic justice
done to the sinners and here is no exception. The residents of the fourth bolgie suffer so these
people tried to see into the future by forbidden means and are possible retribution for the
delusions they concocted that probably led their followers to their perils. In the fifth section of
this plain of despair, the barrators, or the corrupt politicians, are sent. Their punishment is to be
submerged in a lake of boiling pitch, similar to the sinners of violence in the Seventh Circle
submerged in the River Phlegathon. They are guarded by a group of devil called the
Malebranche, or “evil claws,” lead by a Malebranche named Malacoda, or “evil tail”.
The bridge before them has been destroyed, so the Guide led the lost down the rock face
by climbing down to the sixth Section of the eighth plain of woe, into the bolgie where the
hypocrites are sent. The form of punishment they have is quite unusual, as they wander listlessly
like the undead wearing gilded lead capes. The hypocrite known as Caiaphas, the Jewish high
priest that was responsible for Jesus’ death on the cross, is in turn crucified, the cross nailed to
the ground, allowing the hypocrites to walk over him like he’s a human welcome mat.. Beyond
the hypocrites, in bolgia seven, are the thieves, those who stole from others, guarded by a centaur
named Cacus, who is broken by a fire-breathing dragon. The punishment of the thieves is that
they are chased and bitten by snakes and lizards undergo various transformations, with some
resurrected from being turned to ashes, some mutating into new creatures, and others are turned
into reptiles, which then steal the bodies of the other thieves. Careful not to be bitten themselves,
the guide herded the lost to the next bolgie, the eighth bolgie, are where the fraudulent advisors
are sent. Their punishment is to be encased in flames, obscuring their bodies from view, much
like their true thoughts in life. Continuing on, into bolgia nine, the sowers of discord are sent,
being hacked into pieces by a Malebranche wielding a wicked blade, only for them to heal and
get hacked at again, all for eternity. Their screams of agony wail from this bolgie and spill into
the bolgia above them and the tenth and last bolgie, where the falsifiers are sent. The nine lost
carefully shuffled through the sickly crowds, as the punishment for the falsifiers are to be
stricken by disease, a reflection of what they are to society.
Bitter cold winds began to blow as they got out of Fraud and head down a cramp tunnel,
with ice beginning to form as the lost now wish for heat, as the cold was becoming unbearable
already. As they continue down the tunnel, giants with their heads visible from the tunnel
orifices as the cold continued. They found a broken spiral staircase, with frozen shades serving
as décor, twisted in agony. This is the ninth and final plain of woe, Treachery, where the sinners
convicted of treason are sent to be frozen in the frozen-over Underworld River, here known as
Lake Cocytus. The traitors are separated from the fraudulent in that their acts involve betraying
one in a special relationship to the betrayer. As they approach the end of the staircase, still rather
high up and such a fall is fatal, a giant named Antaeus helps lower the lost and their guide down
to the floor of Treachery, with a huge, three-headed, six-winged red giant stuck up to his waist in
the ice, its grand wings stirring the wind that rages through here.
As they left the giants behind, they approach the traitors, who, depending on their
method of betrayal, are submerged to their necks all the way to complete submersion and are
divided into four distinct subsections. The first round, Caïna, named after Cain, Adam’s son, is
the section of Treachery where the traitors to their kin are sent, and are submerged up to their
necks, their faces contorted into looks of shame for their actions. The second round, Antenora,
named after Antenor of Troy, is reserved for those who’ve betrayed political entities, like a party,
a city, or a country, are sent. They are submerged to the point where they’re unable to bend their
necks. The last butterfly gone, dying from the cold winds emitted from Treachery. The third
round, Ptolomaea, named after Ptolemy, the captain of Jericho’s actions, houses those who’ve
betrayed their guests. Here, they are submerged to the bridge of their nose, their eyes frozen shut
from the tears they shed. From a shade imprisoned in this icy wasteland, he tells the lost that if a
living soul is evil enough prior to death, their soul is immediately ripped from their bodies and
their bodies are then possessed are by a demon, continuing the life of that person until that body
expires. Finally, they reached Judecca, the fourth round, named after Judas Iscariot, betrayer of
Christ, are where the betrayers to their lords and benefactors are sent. The shades here are
completely submerged, contorted into all conceivable positions.
The guide ushered the lost to the center of Treachery, where the one denizen is sent here
for betraying God: Lucifer, the devil and the original fallen angel. The three headed giant, skin as
red as the mantle, six bat-like wings beating in a steady rhythm as if trying to escape his icy
prison, his three twisted faces, one red, one black, and one a pale yellow boasts the definition of
ugliness, tears raining down from his six eyes and freezing upon impact on the icy floor to
further trap the beast, wicked claws on his hands and in front of him, waiting for punishment, are
the worst traitors of this realm and of Earth are sent. The lost cringes in sympathy, as their
punishments is to be devoured by him and are instantly healed when he spits them out of any of
his mouths or are expelled from his body. The guide herded the nine lost walk around Lucifer’s
gigantic body all the way to his backside, where a hole exists in this ice for his arrowhead-tipped
tail. As he leads the lost down the hole to reach the next realm, the guide looks back to see a
butterfly, fluttering tiredly to him, exhausted surviving the trails of Hell where its comrades have
failed. It was the same butterfly lost in the storm all the way back in Lust. Cupping his hands
around the tired insect, he joined the nine lost by jumping down the hole, all of them heading to
the place where the souls who seek redemption, Mount Purgatory.
Heed the words the original viewer of Hell spoke of, beware the sins you'll commit, and hope you don't find yourselves in the Inferno.
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