The earth reaches up to me.
And I push it down.
I take my bare hands and I slam into the dirt. I claw, and I punch, and I pack it down. Soft gets matted down into tough turf. Loose soil loses it’s gentle touch as I pound it into something coarse, unforgiving.
There are legions under the dirt.
There are whole worlds buried beneath this earth.
Monsters and milestones and madness.
Things that time has forgotten. That humanity has forgotten. Things that are no longer important, because people have stopped knowing they existed.
This will be no different. Continue reading “Grave Secrets”
Looking down into the black and green swirl of fire and smoke, I understood.
This is why they call this place Death Valley, and why they call this hole The Mouth of Hades.
Behind that thick smoke was moaning, and wailing. I wasn’t sure if it was the wind or not–scientists were still trying to determine what the hell was going on with this hole–but it certainly added to the eerie atmosphere. This hole certainly didn’t seem like a good resting place for anyone, dead or alive, that was for sure.
Definitely not the mouth of heaven. And definitely not a place I’d like to end up.
I took a teeny step back.
“Guess this is why they call this place Dead Valley,” my comrade said.
“You mean Death Valley,” but as I corrected him, I felt a pressure on my ass. A sharp push.
I think it was that moment that I finally understood.
As I tumbled toward the green fire, the moaning growing louder by the millisecond, I couldn’t believe it. But it was true.
I had been tricked. Continue reading “A Quick Harnessing of Hell”
I’m not an angel.
Not a demon.
I’m just a man.
Just a man.
And because of that, I know.
One day, I’ll see that other side. I’ll make it across the gap. I’ll walk that bridge on the borderlands. Say goodbye to the things I know, to this life of deceptions and storms. I’ll walk into that other place, find myself On The Other Side.
And what will I find, On The Other Side, I wonder?
Will it be hell that greets me?
Will it be heaven?
A man such as myself could never hope to reach so high from such a dark depth. I could never reach heaven. Not from this fathom.
No, hell is much closer. Right on my heels, really.
So, what to do?
Hell isn’t a very pleasant place, you know.
So, what to do?
If I can’t reach heaven, then I’ll raise hell.
I’ll raise it up, and up, and up, until the very tips of both touch. Until the guiding light of heaven reaches down into the pits of hell.
And I’ll cross.
Because if you think that I’ll stop myself. Become something I’m not to appease the rules.
You’re mistaken. Continue reading “The Monster Machine”
I don’t remember it well. Sure, it was the experience of a lifetime, but when you’re in that much pain, it’s hard to focus. Hard to remember. All I can remember is the pain.
And then the screaming.
And then the thirst.
When I woke, it was like that was all there was. All that there ever had been. That throbbing ache. The animalistic need to stop the burning in my throat. I remember trying so hard to get rid of it. At the time, I thought I’d drink anything. Literally anything, in order to rid myself of that burn.
I wasn’t really wrong.
But that was it. All there was to waking up again. All there was for me, anyhow. Like I said, I don’t remember it very well.
I guess that’s why I do what I do. By waking others, I guess I hope someone will remember. Someone will be able to eventually tell me:
What it was like to die. Where they went. Because I’ve always been dying to know:
Where did I go? Continue reading “Waking Dead”
It’s too hard to describe it exactly. All I can do is try.
It’s like floating through fire. As if water weren’t good enough for a swim. Only, you don’t burn, you tingle. So, maybe it’s like swimming through lightning? You can feel it’s different there. Hollow. Like everything has been scooped out, and you’re traveling right through that niche where everything once was. And the stuff that was ejected? Rejected? Gutted out? That stuff is still there.
You can feel it even if you close your eyes.
It’s above you. Below you. Around you. Personally, I think it’s the reason you tingle when you travel through. The feeling of thousands of years of waiting, focused on you as you pass by. Thousands of greedy eyes locked onto you. Thousands of hungry hands reach for you, trying to pull you in, ask you the secret to moving through, to being unstationary. The key to being alive.
Don’t get stuck in the Between though.
You’ll never come back. Continue reading “The Between”