Hell, no parole

Here we wake to the sounds of a bloody battle in one of the lower circles of hell A short crawl out of bed, the floor is soaked in stomach acid

Hell, no parole

Here we awake to a riot of dolls and stuffed animals. A battle for domination of the lower hells A short crawl out of bed, the carpet is soaked in stomach acid. This driving hunger makes us mad. Eating soul things that pulse and quiver in our mouths. Even here in hell the pecking order is established. The small and week have all eternity to know the torment of the bully's.

Just yesterday I saw three skinheads holding a black man's head under hot steaming urine that boils from deep pits in the floor. This level of hell is a big house with endless rooms. The saved souls move around outside watching merrily through the windows. Enjoying our suffering. I glare back with the rage of the seven years dead. Seven years here so far, all eternity to go. Everyone try's to break out the house's glass windows, but it can't be done. The best thing about hell is that you can die anytime and be comatose till the next day till you suffer and reform again. I shake a bitter fist at the christian God, Doomed here forever while his faithful gloat outside. I schemed rebellion, over throw , revenge. It was all I had. In my head I could see myself shattering the windows and pulling the saved screaming into hell. My rivalry was interrupted by some gangsters, all Hispanic.They started peeing on me while I dreamt my red dreams. I was still on the floor from a previous morning injury that left my lower body useless. Some asshole whacked me with a crow bar right after I reformed.

Back to the gangsters. All I could do was to try and drag myself up the nearest one's leg biting along the way. Out came the blades , several slashing at once. I fell back onto the floor and I was then stomped to death. The rest of the day was a haze , a distant throbbing pain but better than the day by day afterlife here.

-REFORM-

Again I rise reformed and whole, in bed with me is an old man. The age you died at is the age you stay at forever here. He is curled up in the fetal position and taking up too much of the bed. There is a blood encrusted lead pipe at the foot of the bed. I pick it up and swing into his head, shattering his skull, he died instantly. I did him a favor why suffer like that when you can go out quick? Reforming is strange, always we start out in beds. Sometimes alone, sometimes with others. I know the room I'm in pretty well. It has rusty barb wire thorns lining the walls and ceiling. Flys that smell of shit and semen buzz about the room and land on your lips. I keep hold of the lead pipe and I get out of bed, ever watchful of possible threats that might hurt me. I wave the pipe around trying to bat away the flys as they circle me. I dash out of the room swinging, the way the rooms are on the map are different each day. I'm in the kerosene room now, The stale smelling kero is up to my ankles, above is a series of ladders up and burning censors all over for anyone to throw in and burn those below, it's sixty feet to the door on the other side and it's closed, maybe even locked, I run for it , splashing through the kerosene. I hear the hiss of thrown down censors, but I'm threw the doorway before the whoosh of igniting kerosene lights up the room behind me. Another narrow escape, but my luck can only hold out so long. It's strange how one's will to survive never exhausts, even when in a spiritual form designed to die painfully. As I enter this new run in a run I come face to face with a six pack of skinheads, all of them armed with three foot long insect stingers, and fresh shanks carved from human bones.

"Well lookie here, It's a little faggot!" , Declared one pit bull like skinhead.

"Who's butthole did you crawl out of, you piece of shit?', Asked another one.

"Hey, give us a blowjob and maybe we won't torture you!", Said a third. These skinheads are a blow job lovin crowd. They don't even care if it's male or female that mouths their fat ugly cocks, as long as someone does it, even smaller members of their own group. I know these scum. They seem to be enjoying hell. Surely they belong on a lower ring. Rumors has it that there are secret trap doors that plunge the unlucky down to the next level down, how I want to find these traps and use them. Three skinheads approach me at a bull like run, I pivot and twist to avoid two of them , but the third rams me to the ground, with the big stinkin bastard's crushing wait on top of me. I struggle wildly, knowing what comes next. The pack is closeng in on me and all seems hopeless. I hear the familiar should of a zipper going down, fucking god dammit. "Open your mouth little girly", Orders the erect and approacheng skinfag. They're was the sound of a speargun dart jetting across the room and the skinfag screamed in pain, an dart was sunk deep into his back.As the skinheads let me go to face this new enemy the way was clear so I could see who it was, the old avenger! I knew the blessed in a damned world old avenger from many incarnations. He was feeble, looked about eighty, but he was a good man, probably the best man in hell and he would not put up with sodomy rape while he had any say. They knew him do, and hated him. With a mass bellow of rage the unwounded skins charged the man. I got up and fast as I could, I could use this moment to escape, but I can't leave that crazy old man alone to their aggressive evil, we stand and die together I decided. By the time I was on my feet the quickest skin had sprung onto the man, knocking him to the ground with a rotten wet sound of snapping ribs. "You fucking cocksucking niggers!" , I screamed at them. They turn to face me as I charge them with a primal scream. My heart sank, as they closed in on me, from behind I saw the old man laying there convulsing, blood coming out his mouth, nose, and ears. I try to close in on the leader and stick a finger with a sharpened fingernail into his eye, but he blocks my eyepoke and throws me to the ground. The wind is knocked out of me, I struggle to breath, choking and gasping as they close in with vicious kicks. So much pain, I can barely even move and the first skinhead begins forcing his half erect cock into my face, rubbing it all over my chin, mouth and cheeks while him and his vile friends laugh. I want so much to be dead right now, dead dead dead. Now they pry my fingers back, squeeze my nutsack harder and harder, demanding I open my mouth for the superior cock of pure white man. I still resist and a hail of punches removes my front row of teeth, one of the skinheads has to pick my incisor out of his bleeding fist. Now one had his doctor Martin's boot on my chest, choking the wind from my lungs, while another one is forcing my bleeding mouth open with a crowbar, I'm past fighting now, too weak to even stand up on my own, my ragged mouth opens and a skinhead penis stuffs itself inside it. It stiffens in my mouth, what a foul taste! Over my choking and vomiting around dude's unwashed member I hear his buddy's saying things like "Suck it bitch!". So I sick up around bastard's stiffy, and it puddles around it's base and drips down.

"Oh you dirty faggot!", forced blow job recipient screams as he begins punching me in the head over and over while the others laugh that dude 'came puke'. the kicks and punches continue till I black out into the vegitive state between the daily re-births, I hover there for hours, mostly unknowing.

____REFORM-----------

I wake up again, the sickening smell of human shit soaking in rotting entrails wakes me up, I gasp and choke. Fearfully I open my eyes and I wish I hadn't. This is a horrible place I have not seen before. I am in a tin bed with tiny brass barbs all over it, many are sticking into my skin. I am facing a artist with his back turned to me as he goes about his work, painting a massive canvas with blood, shit, and torn pieces of skin. This artist appears to be some sort of demon, a lumpy misshapen body, dressed in oily brown robes. The artist was now smearing minced liver and bladder onto the canvas, using jagged pins to hold the twitching pieces to the painting. It doesn't matter how many times I die, I never want to die again, ever, not some way like this, not like this. I am afraid to move. You don't see too many demons in this level of hell, but when you do, it's vary bad. So I stare for what seems like hours at the gory art session, the demon seems to be constructing a living being with parts of the damned. Still I lie in bed sweating profusely, every muscle tensed to make a run for the door as soon as it turns around and sees me there. And it turns around and sees me there, when I see that pulsing maggot face with the barbed tentacles surrounding it I scream. It's tentacles twirl with pleasure as it reaches out at with with it's thousand barbed arms. "Just the color of flesh and bowels I was looking for!", Says the demon cheerfully as I am caught helpless in it's grasp, many barbs stick into my skin and ooze blood. "Ahh! , an excellent nose!", He demons says peacefully as he grips my nose in his claw and he begins pulling and ripping violently. I howl and thrash, getting endless toxic barbs in my inflamed skin, I can feel the blood pooling down my face while the demon pulls on my nose, whipping my head back and forth. I can feel my nose ripping surely away, the horrible grind of shattered cartilage. My eye becomes a dull red, the last strands of flesh rip away and the artist holds my nose in his hand, admiring it happily. I fall back to the already bloody ground holding my bleeding nose socket, cutting one of my fingers on my own jagged cartilage. Blood is running out like from a broken faucet, I feel myself about ready to black out, but I hardly think things could be that easy for me. I writhe on the floor in such unbearable pain. I just can't stop screaming, and I can't stand on my own two feet. Freezing cold and iron hard hands grip me and more poisoned stinging barbs sink into my skin. I couldn't scream any louder, but still I did scream louder. Not the claw is gripping the base of my penis, the sharp fingernails cutting into flesh as the demon pulls with insane strength. The claws work like a jagged sawblade and the pulling pressure keeps the skin tight, so it rips cleaning away, it holds my withering member in it's claw and it smiles happily. I am going into shock and bleeding out. my whole body feels like it's vibrating extremely and then darkness..........

And a new Revelation! I had a dream! In that bardo state I dreamed, as far as I know for the first time in seven years! I don't remember too much of it, but it seemed like heavon. A couple of flashes I remember, being in a grandmotherish house, there is a piano there and that fills me with joy.

-REFORM-

I come to again with the dream disintegrating in my head, I only hang on to a couple of details, but this is the most encouraging thing that has happened in the seven years that I have been here. If I dream, than afterlife isn't all bad. If I can have lucid dreams, where will this take me? I reluctantly open my eyes. I am in a sticky room, I am stuck to the bed and the walls, floor and ceiling of this room all have this ultra-stick cheese like mass covering them. I try to work my way free. Making any real progress in this room takes hours, because every surface has the same stickyness and you kinda sink into the stuff. There is a dead body of an old man lying face down a few feet from me. Really old this one is, he probably dies within forty minutes of each day's regeneration, lucky bastard! I fucking hate this room, I died here once, about three and a half years ago. A skinhead pushed my face down deep into the stickyness and I couldn't get no air. The stuff is like flypaper, but it kills people who are already dead. I keep working my way towards to the open door that leads out of this room. Two and a half hours later and I'm sore and very tired, and I still have three and a half feet to go to be free of that sticky room, although the residues will cling to my skin till I reform. So now my barefoot walk is a burden. I have the same outfit on that I was wearing when I died, it seems like an eternity now, and it's only been seven years. How long will it seem to have been fifty years from now, or three thousand years from now? How about four hundred and sixty seven million years from now, and still the same painful routine. I step outside of the room into a long dim hallway with a couple of working electric lights flickering, basically one of the neutral hell spots, where the only harm that can come to you is from other members of the damned. I literally stick myself upright against the wall, and relax, resting. I reflect on how I ended up here, the final destination, or is it? That dream makes me wander, I'm really starting to think about it constantly, it's all I have after all, maybe there will be more, and likely, the more I concentrate on it the more they're will be. I crave dreams like an addict craves crack. In seven years without hope, what seemed more like twelve and a half years, you will cling on to the first hope lifeboat that comes by. My mind had formed a vice grip around the idea of dreaming, I had a knew hope, perhaps I could take this chink in the system's armor and rip open a wide escape hole, maybe I'll storm heaven or earth in a commando raid with like minded damned backing me the fuck up. I pull myself painfully away from the wall. I have lost a bit of skin from all this sticky lining stuff. I sting all over. The hallway is of cold stone, it's about fifty three degrees in this area, the stone floor descends at a fifteen degree angle downwards, I have never seen this hall before and I decide to follow it, just out of morbid curiosity. As I walk forwards, I can hear approaching soft footfalls, sounds like a woman. You don't see too many still living women here, they tend to get violently raped and killed pretty early after re-form. I stopped in my tracks, my sticky feet allowed me to stop on a dime. I waited, they're was no where to go but back down the hall to the dead end sticky room, no point in trying to run, I waited to see what would face me. I recognized that face as soon as it rounded the corner, I used to fuck her in the living world, so long ago, its seems like forever has passed. She stopped in her tracks and obviously she recognized me. I could tell she was fumbling for my name. "Hey there Monica, long time no see".

"Yeah", She stammered, obvisously having been here in hell long enough not to trust anyone and to see all as a threat. A big cyclone of thoughts went through my head right then , a flood of memory's from the other side. From a world that still probably exists out there somewhere. Memorys of her mouth working his erect penis with slobbering mirth, memorys of her constant verbal snipeing, of her flirting with other guys right in front of him, of catching her in bed with his than friend Reeves. Of the ugly fist fight and then his finding his tires slashed later, the payphone death threats, all kinds of memorys there. "How are you?" , Monica asked, really a stupid question to ask a fellow damned, she seemed really scared, like she was thinking that I was thinking about the past in a negative way, I was to.

"You fucking bitch!", I screamed as I hit her with a surprise left hook to the cheek that twisted her body around as she fell hard to the floor. I threw myself down onto her before she had a chance to recover, oh yes, this was going to be fine! All that time these last years I have spent suffering at the hands of others, it's time for me to unleash some fury. I ripped her shirt open savagely, she whimpered and begged, but fuck the bitch, I've been raped plenty of times since I've been here, and she's one of the one's who led me to the wretched path down here to begin with, punishment time. She tryed to get up, so I choked her, and banged her head against the floor roughly. I must have stunned her, for she resisted nothing at this point, but her eyes were open. I forced her shirt over her head roughly. She begin to stir a little, so I backhanded her, bringing a flow of blood to her nose. I begin working her sweat pants down , revealing nicely shaped tan legs, I remembered sucking on those legs outside of this place, in another world that seemed like paradise by now. She had leopard skin style thong bikini on, but a hard wrenching pull and the strap holding them together at the hip came off and there was her cutely shaven pussy. Now I was having my first erection in about a year. I ticked up till it was nice and firm, ready to rape. Oh yes, I was really letting loose now. Let this evil woman be the ark of my vengeance, let the pain I have endured be felt by another who wronged me in that dim lost past. I grabbed her fine breasts with both hands, squeezing them hard, makeng her cry out in pain. Those breasts I used to tenderly kiss throughout the night, I am was abusing them. It felt so right, like I was striking back at the very god who put me here to suffer forever and longer. I spit on my cock, and again, getting phlemmy gooing lube on it, I then rubbed the shaft to distribute the lube evenly. I rubbed the stiffness of my member all around her hole, then I plunged it in. She jerked spasmodically, and I began hammering it, in and out roughly at high speed. As the spit goes dry I continue to thrust away with my throbbing pelvic weapon. The pleasure was a liquid heat inside my brain, a volcano of desire that erupted with the flow of my semen into her violated twat. I screamed with release and pleasure, I bucked a few more goes into her and pulled my wilting stick back outside, wiping it on her shirt. She curled into a ball as I walked off with a short lived feeling of contentment and even a bit of joy. The only joy I have seen here has come from others who abuse their fellow damned, now I see why their faces light up with such naked happiness, those sick bastards!

I was ready to die now, even though it would be painful. I have died over a thousand times so far, and when I do die, maybe I will have a dream! One thing odd about hell, is that although anyone you encounter can, and probably will kill you, you just plain cannot kill yourself, only fuck yourself up really bad, making it simpler for someone else to finish the job at their leisure. I know, I've tryed the twenty four hour suicide, didn't happen, just unending pain and torment, until some fucker came along to bash me to death with a ceder block. I was strange how people here never tire of brutality and cruelty. I know one damned soul who has been here for three hundred and fifty years, still he kills, tortures, abuses all he can with a simple joy. I would think that after several hundred torture murders it would begin to loose it's charm, but then again, many who dwell here seem ideal for the locale, like it's where they always should have been. Both because they enjoy making others suffer, and because they deserve every bit of pain the receive. I very thought of it made me wish that I had a fucking AK 47 to blast them on sight, I wouldn't even torture the fucks, just kills clean and quick and move on to the next, I have never survived a night here, I wonder if it's possible to go from one day to the next without reforming. This thought was interrupted by a surprise crowbar strike to the back of my head, I fell convulsing to the ground. I could barely open my eyes, I was so stunned, I saw it was her, the bitch I had raped not so long ago, she swung again, shattering my nose and twisting my head at a impossible angle, and I was gone again.

-Reform-

I wake up in a bed in a room filled with smoke, I choke and cough, I rise and survey my new surroundings. I can hear others gasping and chokeing among the smoke, but I only try to save myself, in hell, only self really matters. The walls are all pouring off a thick oily smoke that makes me feel like I will vomit when I breathe it in, except for the two large windows where the saved peer at the action with those mean looks on their faces. Why are these assholes saved anyway? I mean really, just look at the way they enjoy our suffering, bastards! I ran at a window at full speed, body slamming into it hard. The startled christian on the other side jumped back in shock, but the window held firm as always, still it was fun making the saved shit jump like that! I fall choking in the lung violating smoke, I attempt to crawl out of the door, but I am by now blinded by these toxic fumes. My hands and knees are burning from the hot floor crawl, I hear the crackle of flames as the heat increases and the smoke gets even thicker , now it's like a cobweb and I am stuck in the smoke, the hot scalding smoke. I hate this shit, to re-form only to die within a few painful minutes. I met this Buddhist monk down here a couple or so years ago. He would actually meditate while being murdered, making his mind calm. I don't know if ever I shall have that kinda of discipline, but maybe I'll up with this guru every few years for a lesson. This could lead to illumination within twelve hundred years or so. I had to work hard at it, and it's hard to meditate when at any second you could meet up with today's horrible and violent death.

Now my skin is crackling as it melts and peels away, I am screaming my lungs can't take in the steaming air, death finds me and my bodies falls again.

-Reform-

I wake up in a pastel blue room with photographs of a brown puppy pasted all over it. I remember a bit of the dream that I had been having. Something about a cute girl that was hanging out with me and whom I wanted to see naked so bad in made my testicles quaver. I remember following her around dim light creepy rooms, always worried about her safety. This is vary good! Two dreams I have remembered! I see a movement in the light of the window bordering heaven and I turn around to see a cute blond girl, about eighteenish, looking in, ready to peep in on the hell show a little early it seems. I pull down my pants and I rub my penis vigorously, feeling it harden in my passionate grip, all the while I stare right into the girl's eyes. She looked extremely offended, she got up and walked away quickly, maybe to some more wholesome window, me I was getting into this, I kept on the friction on my swollen affliction. I had not masturbated for about nine months now, never get much of a chance it seems down here. I writhe in bed, twisting and thrusting with pleasure. In my torture distorted brain I was seeing my old girlfriend underneath my rape fest again, it got me so hot, as hot as you would expect to be in hell but in a different way.

"Oh look at that tiny little penis the fag has in his hand!", Came a male voice from behind me. I whirled around, covering my erection with both hands, odd how one can still be modest even while in hell. It's Chad Riggs, a former co-worker of mine, a real asshole, and with him is some lumpy pot bellied buddy of his. A great time to be caught with penis in hand, and I was almost ready to cum to, now the moment was lost. Me and Chad hated each other as co-workers, often he would almost get into a fight over some fucked up comment he would make. I still hate the fucker, and I hate his friend who I was seeing for the first time now. My magic wand was rapidly wilting as the blood flowed elsewhere as per fight or flight reflex. I was burning with hateful embarrassment, this is why I don't masturbate in fucking hell. Chad still had those fucking thick black glasses on, just like back then, in fact, he seems to have gone to hell shortly after our last encounter back in the world. Well the fucking piece of shit deserves it. Now I was looking at him and his buddy, both of them a little bigger and stockier than I am, they were walking towards me with confidence. Now I have been down here long enough to know the score, you don't tend to walk towards the enemy with that much confidence unless you have a trick up your sleeve. Behind them appeared two more goons, each with a wood axe. I turned to run, but where there once was a doorway leading into a hall, there was now a brick wall, with a window where a couple Christians leered at the scene. Those fuckers! I hated everyone in eye sight, I knew the plan was to humiliate and kill me, so I made no time for small talk, I ran screaming at the first body. I actually gained a bit of a surprise advantage, they thought by their sheer number that I would cower submissively. I threw a mean left hook into Chad Rigg's face, he went down hard with a startled grunt. "He's fuckin crazy!", Said the dude next to the one with the baseball bat. I kicked the downed Chad in the face so hard that my shoe came off. I roared and growled like a savage animal, the remaining three backed up a few steps as I planted another hard kick to the fucker's bloody face, my left shoe stayed on. I left out a evil sounding gurgling high pitched howl, more animal like than ever I have sounded, and I felt like a rapid wolf. The others turned and ran, I screamed again and I ran after them, I tasted blood and I wanted more. Somewhere along the run I heard them scream ahead, apparently someone got to them first, while they where running head long away from me. They're where more screams, along with slashing sounds that made my little heart happy. I leaned against the wall, down the hall and around the corner from whatever gory action was happening, but never far enough away. My adrenaline rush was calming down down, I moved further away from the ensuing carnage. It would be so nice to have a cigarette right now, or even a fat joint. They say that the lower levels of hell are a lot worse. There you don't ever die and have that red oblivion for the rest of the day. No matter how much suffering you endure, it's always still coming with no end ever in sight for all eternity, the ultimate pain as a eternal frozen moment. It makes my soul writhe just thinking about it. The highest level of hell is said to be a place of minor but permanent bothers, such as sunburn pain, forever itchy crotch, eternal headache, etc. That sounds a far far better place. I have never even heard a rumor of a way up to the higher levels, only of trap doors plummeting someone down to a lower level. I began walking again, one thing about hell, if you find a safe place , don't hide there for too long, no place is going to safe all day, they will get you soon enough if you stay put. I walked towards where I heard the carnage and ripping of flesh earlier, perhaps I would get to see my enemies in pieces before me. Indeed, I saw them, hacked with an axe repeatedly, even after death, a pile of body parts all kicked into the corner. How disturbing. Brutal as hell. Then the body parts spread apart as a hiding man with an axe suddenly stood up from where he had covered himself in the gore. Turns out it wasn't an axe he had done this with, for he had a over sized meat cleaver in each bloody hand, he screamed a roaring primal blast as he ran right at me. I was too shocked to re-act at first and the cleavers whistled down, catching me in the chest and the side of my neck, I was killed instantly, doubtlessly the freak kept on going and hacking me all up like the others.

-Reform-

No dreams during that brief bardo stage. I awake already tied up. Sometimes you reform in ropes, or other forms of bondage. This always sucks, because you never even get a chance. Two others are tied up to the wall. Strangers, I don't recall having seen them before, but they're is probably a population of thirty million or so on this level of hell.

One of the tied up men turns his head to me and says " I just want yo to know that if I was free from these ropes I would poke your fucking eyes out and piss in the empty sockets you faggots".

"Whatever floats your woody, they're big big sailor guy", I winked and said, the roped man begin struggling furious to get free, the ropes held firm. Hell is such a strange place socially, it really doesn't make sense, but then, neither did the world I once knew. Oh to be back there now, maybe on a hammock, just dreaming and rocking gently in the breeze, with a vary minimal chance of being killed horribly.Three or four Christians had gathered by the windows to watch whatever horrible thing was about to happen, I wished pain beyond flesh on them. The lower hells feature pain beyond flesh. Pain within flesh was bad enough." Tell your God he can suck my mortal cock!", I screamed at them through the window, they looked shocked and angry. They would be so much more shocked if they were on my side of the glass. What would they think of they're so called God then? I always knew that Christianity is a rotten shit religion that preys on the sick and the old. Now I'm in hell, a place I never even believed in. That is one of the major beefs I have about my whole situation, why should a non-believer have to suffer the sins of the believers? Something was vary wrong here and I intended to find out more about it, besides mediation attempts and lucid dreaming what else is there to do in hell? Besides rape and kill your hell mates that is.