Hellbound

[Wayne]

Here's a little short story I wrote for a competition. It had rules but I can't remember them, it's a horror story. cheers everyone.


Hellbound


Welcome to Hell, my life. I am not joking, I am currently being punished in the depths of Hell. Some call me the daughter of Satan, Satan calls me the blur of his rotting existence.

I have only been down here for fifty years. My name is Tanya Burns, and how true is my last name now? Because I can tell you, Tanya burns. You may remember me; I was the thirteen-year-old girl who slaughtered her entire family before killing herself back in 1959. Oh, what a great memory that is.

It was back when I could feel the grass underneath my toes and the wind in my hair. It was back when I could kill people. My thirst for a kill is so strong right now, but I can't kill anyone here; they are already dead.

My mother was the first to die. I drowned her in a bath full of mud while chanting in my very own private language. I cut her body up into tiny pieces and stuffed her into my bucket. I threw the contents of that bucket all over my father when he returned from having sex with the lady next door. That was the funniest moment of my mortal life. You should have heard his pathetic scream!

I shot my father in the head before bending down and licking the blood from his face. I tried to bury him in the same hole as my dead dog, but I got tired half way through digging it bigger, so I left him half in the hole and his other half sticking out.

Next I walked back into the house and headed for the basement. I wanted to kill myself three times; first I overdosed on my mothers medication; I then hung a rope over a sturdy beam and tied it into a noose. As I kicked the table out from underneath my feet, I grabbed my fathers illegal gun and shot myself in the head before the noose strangled me to death.

Those are my greatest memories. They took place before I had got used to the constant heat and torture of this evil wonderland. My fathers down here with me, but I don't see that bastard much.

I will tell you, if you're lucky enough to come to Hell, the only way your soul can rest in peace is by completing a task. Everyone has the same task, and so far nobody has completed it.

When you first enter the gates of Hell you are asingned a massive block of wood; about seven metres in length and four metres in width. That is your block of wood, it will have your name engraved on it. Now to escape Hell, you need to rub this piece of wood with your finger until there is nothing left of it. You have to fully disintegrate that entire piece of wood by rubbing it with your finger alone. Oh yeah, you're only aloud to rub it once a year; on your birthday. And you're only aloud to rub it for five minutes sometime during that day. You will not escape Hell until you make that block of wood dissapear.

My block has a tiny scratch on the top of it. And I've been going at it for fifty years. I am still thirteen, I haven't grown at all since the day I died.

Because of that, I have one of the worst punishments in Hell. I get sent into a room full of dead pedophiles. They get little enjoyment out of it - it only happens once a year - but to me, it makes me regret killing myself at such an early stage. The greatest joy I have here is when those pedophiles get molested by massive demons who don't hold back. And they have to go through that every single day.

I am lucky to be writing this; paper is a hard thing to come by in Hell. So is free time, the demons gave me an hour off my hard labour today; which is moving massive blocks of stone from one place to another; which is seperated by a thousand metres of broken glass. I have a friend down here named Gore, he is a servant of the Devil. He gave me this paper and pencil.

I'll put this in my special locker over in our chain room - we all get a locker for our special possessions. It might make its way up to Earth one day; during Armageddon maybe?

So if someone does read this, you now know what Hell is truly like. It's wonderful yet derpressing and very, very hot. You do get to sleep, but you have to do it on a bed of hot ash. I'm used to it now, even if I do only get to sleep for half an hour a day.

Let all the murderers, pedophiles, dictators and those who commit adultery are all Hellbound! More come every day and that's not going to stop anytime soon, so will you do the honour of joining me and link arms in my home, the one and the only, HELL!

I better go, I don't want to waste all my free time here. I won't get more free time for months, and I have some stuff to do. So this is goodbye, and I have to say, I hate you and everything that exists. Welcome to Hell, my life....... My eternal spirit-life. Hate you all, so get lost.

[Charles Jones]

Wow. Graphic. Not to suggest this is a bad thing, though. Really serves to paint a vivid image and, personally, I'm all about descriptives and vivid imagery, so good on you, there.

The loose diction seemed weird, at first, but after thinking about it, I assume it was written in Tanya's manner of speaking?

I've a story in the vault which I've been tinkering with for... well, far too long now, but it covers similar material, and I found it extremely interesting to read through another writer's take on the concept of hell and such. I particularly liked the part about the block of wood. Sometimes false hope is the worst kind of torture!

Your vision is very unique, and the character of Tanya is one I'd like to study. Have you considered revision of or expansion upon this story, at all?

Thank you for sharing!

[Wayne]

Thanks Charles, it has to be graphic, it is Hell after all. Yep, it was written in Tanya's way of speaking, I tried to make it feel like it really was written by a thirteen-year-old girl.

You should write your story and put it up here, I'll read it. I'm very interested in other writers take on Hell as well. People have asked me to expand and I'm thinking about it, I may do it one day. Thanks for reading mate! I appreciate it a lot.

[Anne Westlund]

Hi Wayne

This is wonderfully descriptive, but still leaves some to the imagination. Like what's the punishment for dictators and adulterers? I've been reading a book about C.S. Lewis and Narnia. The author goes into great detail about what C.S. Lewis thinks Hell is like, pretty tame in comparison. He thinks Hell is total self-centerdness and obsession with the self. No burning tortures in his Hell. A thought: I think we would all like to think that everyone gets their "just desserts", but what if that isn't the case? Great story, consider expanding on it.

Thanks for sharing!

Anne

[Wayne]

True, what if that isn't the case? It's an interesting subject which everyone will have different views on. What is the book you have been reading? It sounds very interesting. He has a very interesting take on Hell, it's different, which I like.

Thank you for the kind words and yes! I will consider expanding on it! Cheers mate :P

[Anne Westlund]

"C.S.Lewis and Narnia for Dummies"