Christopher Moore Home Page

The bulletin board is currently closed to new posts. Instead, why not check out Chris' Twitter and Facebook pages? Forum Index -> Fan Fiction Here

I'm not only depressed, I'm a carrier.

  Author    Thread This forum is locked: you cannot post, reply to, or edit topics. This topic is locked: you cannot edit posts or make replies.

Joined: 16 Feb 2005
Posts: 61
Location: I'd tell you if I knew
I'm not only depressed, I'm a carrier.  Reply with quote  

Just to warn you, this is a very dark story. my versoin of hell.


Ever have a feeling in the worst moments of your life you were in hell?  For many people this feeling passes, but for many others it never will. For you see hell is not fire, brimstone, and a guy in a red jumpsuit brandishing a pitchfork. The bitch of it is, no one can be a better judge of your life than you and if you find your self guilty their is no one better suited to determine what the appropriate punishment is than you. Someone said that there is nothing harder about life then having to live it, I'm sorry to say that person was dead wrong, the worst apart of living is having to live the worst part of your life over and over again for the rest of eternity. Hell is also unending repetition. And that's not all: you don't know you are in hell, if you knew you were damned for all eternity the hope would eventually fade and you would get use to the pain; a person can get use to almost anything if you give them enough time and in hell all you have is time.

I know this because I am one of the damned, forced to live the most horrific moments imaginable over and over beyond time itself. But unlike most, I have been given a strange gift. Two, in fact. The first was given to me on my arrival, the other over the countless repetitions of my personal hell. It was simply dropped into my lap. The first gift was and still is retention, I get to remember every loop of my own personal hell and thru the many repetitions I figured out where I was. (I personally think that Satan or who ever runs this place just watched Groundhog's Day one too many times!) The only problem is the
part of my life that I am forced to go thru over and over I do not die in it, but I do not remember anything after that to this very day, so I don't know how I died or what I deserved to get sent to hell.

The second gift is the ability to travel, after many many many... reruns of the worst moments in my life I stumbled somehow into someone else's hell, at first as you can imagine I was more then a little confused at what had happened. I was all of a sudden plunged into someone else's hell, I had no idea how I had gotten there or how to get out of it or even who's hell it was. I stumbled thru an unknown hell with horrors never witnessed by my eyes before, who ever said that
variety is the spice of life can go to hell, no pun intended. This hell was something out of a history book, the best I can figure it was some time during the Roman Empire. Their were bodies every where, the horrible cries of men screaming from unknown anguish and terror, flesh tarring, blood splattering and bones breaking, these abhorrent sounds were all around me, I was in the middle of a long forgotten war! I have seen old war movies as a teenager all the time, but this was in 3D smell-o-vision. The stench of rotting, burned flesh was so strong it made my eyes water, my shoes slid along the blood soaked grass.

I frantically spun around and around looking on at a battlefield of unspeakable horrors bewildered as to how I had gotten there, my mind refused to understand the abominations I was forced to behold, all the while screaming at the top of my longs "where am I?"  But I guess spinning like a top screaming as loud as I possibly could on a bloody battlefield wasn't a good idea if you don't want to attract unwanted attention. Because like an unholy specter rising from un-haloed ground, a dark figure riding an even darker horse dawned on the horizon of that cursed battlefield and charged directly for me at full gallop.

At first the horse's gallops were nothing more then distant, faint thumps but as the daemonic creature came closer the ground began to shake, every time one of its hooves planted itself onto the muddy ground, it was like a bomb was going off (it was like something out of Jurassic Park.) Every so often one of the daemonic horse's hooves came into contact with a stricken body laying lifeless on the ground, it was like a volcano went off when that horse trampled a body, an erupting cloud of crimson and gore gushed from the bodies, limbs flew free, heads rolled and crushed like ripe melons.

At that moment there was no doubt I was truly in hell! Fear had taken me; there was no rationality, no thought: just blinding, all encompassing fear. I tried to run but the blood soaked grass was so thick and slippery all I did was come crashing down to the bloody earth, my face planted firmly into a ripped open chest of a fallen warrior, I tried to scream but when I opened my mouth I gulped down stagnant clotted blood, I ripped my head from the unimaginable monstrosity I had just tasted. My face covered in blood and gobs of it coming from my mouth and down my chin, I gagged, I bent over and puked what seemed like gallons of viol blood. I then noticed the loud gallops had gotten much closer, I looked up to see a blood soaked spear mere feet from my head speeding towards me, the sun reflected off the spears shinny but bloody hilt, I closed my eyes from the glare and the next thing I knew... I felt a sharp pain pierce my throat fallowed by the sound of steel tearing through flesh and cartilage, the sound of my own neck breaking filled my ears. The force and weight of the spear picked me off my feet and threw me backward onto a pile of rotting corpses. I opened my eyes to see the spear embedded deep into my neck. I tried to gasp for air but nothing happened; all I could do was lay on a pile of encompassing flesh holding the handle of that damn spear, to weak to move, tears running down my cheeks, not even able to cry out, not so much as a whimper. Hearing my heartbeat becoming slower with every attempt to breath. Even though the sun was burning bright, it was getting darker and darker every second. I tried to keep my eyes open but knew it was no use: it finally went all black.

But then a flash of light blasted its way through my eyelids and I awoke with a jerk to find myself back in my own hell. (What were you expecting, that I was gonna die? I'm already dead!) I do not know if that dark warrior was apart of that other person’s hell or a soldier of hell itself putting me back where I belonged. But after my little visit into someone else's hell, mine didn't seem so bad; it was almost like coming home. Almost. After that experience my hell wasn't even scary, I found myself laughing at it, I saw how completely small my fears truly were.

Well... who ever runs this place must of heard my laughter, I bet it really pissed him off, because I again found myself in someone else's hell!  But this one was nothing like the other, there were no broken bodies lying bloody on the ground; this was much worse!

I don't know what it is with hell and disgusting odors, because this hell smelled even worse then the other I visited. The stench of piss soaked walls and shit stained carpets was overpowering, I choked with my first breath. Every where there were stray cats trying to find places to die and other maggot covered ones that had, flies so thick it was like a living buzzing fog, old rancid food that had turned colors I had never even seen before. Sunlight peered thru cracks in the walls and reflected off the shit-hole somebody called home. I fumbled through the darkened hovel trying desperately to find a door, or window or what ever I could find to get some fresh cool air and out of the junk heap so I could finally start breathing threw my nose again. But there was nothing, not so much as a hole big enough to stick my head or even just my nose through! I constantly had to brush off cockroaches, spiders and even rats off of me, they kept crawling up my legs and one spider managed to crawl straight up my leg and into my underwear, it sank its fangs straight into my sack, the pain sent me crashing to the floor onto a pile of slimy old food that had been there for far too long. I lay writhing in agony holding my crotch, screaming in pain, as nauseating goo covered every inch of me. As the pain started to fade, another filled my veins. As a futile act of revenge, I smashed the fleeing spider into the foul floor and I noticed amongst the scattered, twitching remains was a red hourglass shaped mark on its underside. I laid there on a disgusting oozing pile of god knows what, as all matter of insect life crawled all around and on me. I thought to myself what were the odds of a Black widow finding its way up my pants and biting me right on the nuts! But then I realized this was hell and that it was something I was going to have to get use to. Up to this point whenever I "traveled" I was always alone, but that was about to change...

Because while I was laying on the floor squirming in pain as the venom seared its way threw my veins, I heard distant foot steppes, fallowed by muffled screams and the sounds of many fragile things shattering. I sprang to my feet, but the goo would not let me go that easily, I slipped and fell on my ass several times before I finally managed to get my footing. With my arms out stretched trying to keep my balance, my feet slipping and sliding on the slick wooden floor. My head twisted in all directions trying to figure out where the commotion was coming from, my eyes darted to every small movement that I noticed, but most of it was just bugs, rats or dying cats. The commotion found me, then I found the word commotion was nowhere near big enough of a description to describe that I observed erupt into the room I was in.

At first it was just some loud screams getting closer and the noise of toppling furniture. But I soon saw who or what was making those thunderous irritating screams, a scene right out of a bad domestic-abuse commercial burst its way into the room, a screeching figure with long dark hair burst into the room, when it first came in all I could see was the fluttering hair of a screaming banshee frantically running for its life. But as it got closer and passed threw many rays of light peering threw the numerous cracks and holes in the walls, I found it not to be an it but rather a very scared little girl, face smeared with dirt and blood, tears flew from her face and sprayed backward into her wake along with a cloud of dust and anything else that got in her way as she heaved her tiny muscles as hard as she could running from some unknown nightmare, but the nightmare did not stay unknown for long.

Only a sliver of a second later a dark enormous silhouette ripped its way into the room, it was so fast I couldn't see it in detail, all I saw when it swiftly passed threw a ray of light was a glint of skin or a blurred hand. I couldn't see the monster well but I certainly saw its actions, as it tore its way threw the room any thing it touched instantly disintegrate and flew across the room in broken shards that made even more holes in the walls, like tiny spotlights more sunlight shined threw. A few seconds of that monster in the room and it was like a low rent disco; all that was missing was a disco ball and music.

The monster could not hide any longer amongst the shadows because there were none left. Its form was finally revealed.

It was nothing but a bald fat pathetic man; he stood hunched, his gut bursting from his sweat stained shirt, shoulders broadened, staring at me with a glare of burning rage in his eyes, breathing like a wild animal, teeth bared, growling with every exhale. I saw a monster, but not my monster; this one was tailored for a child. With one flick from his stubby fattened fingers he threw a glass of scotch he had been tightly clutching in his hand straight at the fleeing little girl and in a glimmer of glass and splattering liquid it struck the girl in her thin bony legs. The sounds of glass shattering, blood spilling and the high pitch cry of pain blended together into a symphony of horror as that poor little girl collapsed to the floor, she slid along the ground on her own blood and with a loud thud she smashed into a wall.

The girl soaking in her own blood lying in pain, her body shivered as she sobbed, pathetic whimpers floated from her lips. One of the better off cats saw all the blood and eagerly rushed over to her and with his sandpaper tongue lapped up the liquid meal flowing from that battered little girl. That fat son of a bitch took his sweet time as he strolled over to her, she saw him slowly coming towards her, she screamed in terror her arms crossed over her face trying desperately to shield her self from the monster that was coming closer with every fear filled breath. In that moment I forgot about that slick floor beneath my feet and leapt to her defense or that was what meant to do. But instead like so many times before I came crashing to the floor again! My head took the brunt of my fall, every thing blurred, her screams distorted and every horrible footstep from that fat ass echoed. I struggle to get my feet but the combination of a concussion and a slick floor made it very difficult, my eyelids felt like they were made of led every blink was longer then the one before. My limbs relaxed, my body went limp and I was well on my way to unconsciousness.

But a particularly high pitched scream broke the black fog from my eyes, my eyelids flew upward. I tilted my head towards the girl to see that man with one hand grabbing her by the back of the neck, her eyes wide with fear knowing what would come next. Because that bastard's other hand was on his zipper, with every tick of his zipper as he pulled at it marked another second closer to what that poor little girl would have to endure. But not if I had any thing to do with it, I lifted myself up off the ground with all the strength I had, my foot dug itself into the hard slippery floor, my calves bulged and with a grunt I heaved myself at that fat fucker. He turned, our eyes connected and I got to see the satisfying look of surprise and even a little fear overrun his face as my shoulder connected with his ribs. When I heard those ribs snap like bubble-rap I heaved even harder, his mouth gaped open, he gave wails of agony, he spayed clouds of crimson and blue, then I heaved even more. My muscles burned, my face was beat red, I growled as we collided with a near by wall, his back dug into the brittle plaster, he was firmly implanted, unable to move he desperately tried to wiggle out of it but he was stuck. I pulled back to see this fool stuck in a wall, I gave a little chuckle at the ridiculous situation that fat little man was in.

In the corner of my eye I saw a wooden shard lying on the floor resting at my feet, with an evil thought in my heart I bent over and grasped it firmly in my hand. I stared into the black eyes of that pitiful man wedge half way into a wall. I yelled at the top of my longs and charged at him while clutching that wooden stake. I plunged it with all my strength directly into his beating heart as if he were a vampire, because he was a vampire he just sucked fear an innocence instead of blood. The stake ripped threw the man's dirty white shirt and pierced his flabby flesh, blood spayed every where, my hands where soaked in it, my hand slipped along the bloodied stake until my hand was in the man's gushing wound, his cries of pain were near deafening. With my other hand I thrust the stake deeper in hopes of killing him quicker so he would shut up and stop squirming. But all it did was make him scream louder, I covered my ears and yelled at him to just die already. I could not believe I had just said that, I was taken back by it, I looked on in horror at what I had just done. A man berried in a wall, clutching a wooden stake plunged into his chest, gushing blood like a sprinkler screaming in pain. With all his writhing he managed to get himself free from the wall and with a floppy pathetic thud he fell to the

Then like bolt of lightning in the dark of night I heard a cry of anguish and a word that will haunt me for the rest of my afterlife "DADDY!"  The bleeding, battered little girl rushed over to the man lying lifeless on the floor, her feet slipped and squeaked along the ever growing pool of blood around the listless man. She rapped her arms around him, rocking back and forth, sobbing, screaming for him to wake, hoping he was all right. She turned to me, tears running down her cheeks, eyes wide with sorrow, lips trembling. She screamed at me, anguish dripped from her mouth, every hate filled word she uttered flew
across the room, like a thunderous blow the grief stricken words struck me harder then any tangible object ever could. I tried to say something to calm her, I racked my brain trying to find a phrase, a sentence or a simple word to try take some of the anguish I had caused. But there was nothing, I in an act of rage and sheer stupidity had taken this little girls father from her, he was a monster but he was still her father, I could have stopped him without killing him, if you stay in hell long enough hell becomes apart of you if you want it to or not. I had caused more harm to this little girl then hell ever could. I had
savagely killed her father in front of the innocent eyes of a child. All I did was stand there, my hands drenched in the blood of her father, looking at her, sobbing, her face berried in her father's chest, rocking back and forth, screaming as to why this would happen. In her eyes I saw the reflection of a soulless monster, but she wasn't looking at her father, she was looking at me.

I wish I could tell you that I some how redeemed myself, made everything all better, I wish I could. But this is hell, nothing is ever resolved, the only constant here is pain, unending pain. I slowly out stretched my hand to the girl, with soft calming words, I tried to comfort her, but when she saw me coming closer she recoiled, trembling in fear, she muttered words of terror and prayers for me not to harm her. I tried to reassure her, I tried to make it clear what I had done to her father was a horrible mistake. But fear was her master now, she had surrendered to it long ago. My attempts to comfort her were in vain, all she did was roll up into a little ball, mumbling to her self and praying to god to take her away from all of this. After many hours of trying, I finally gave up, exhausted from my bout with her father I collapsed to the floor, I rested my back against a wall, I just stared at her, this poor little girl huddled in a corner, in the fetal position, terrified, weeping and praying to god to take her away from all her pain.

In those endless hours I stared at her, I wondered how this poor little girl could have gotten here. I'm not a religious man, but I do know that hell is suppose to be off limits to children or that's what those many years I wasted in Sunday school had told me. I was hit by an epiphany, in my personal hell I had to live the worst moments of my life over and over, maybe so did she, her spiritual "crime" was probably made as an adult, but in many
cases the worst points of a persons life is in their childhood, I knew my childhood was pretty rough, hers was obviously rougher. All I could think of was no "crime" could of been as appalling as her punishment, to endure her father beating and raping her over and over for an eternity. I could not imagine a hell such as this, my body was engulfed in rage at the injustice of it all. I gazed at the injustice huddled in a corner, slowly rocking, weeping, her dead father lying at her feet. That image burned and festered in my mind for many hours. But it did not last forever, because what happened next gave me the revelation that I was unique, special and for some reason it still comforts me. The room began to bend and distort, the floor rumbled and shook violently, the light from all the cracks burned brighter, the light grew so brilliant it seared my eyes shut. I had seen this many times before... it meant the loop was about to start over again. I was going to have to see this poor little girl run for her life and inevitably beaten and raped—again.

I opened my eyes to see I was still sitting on the sticky floor, but the girl was gone and so was the gushing body of her father. I wasn't surprised by this. The room was darker like when I first arrived, the room hung in silence, their were only the eerie sounds of buzzing and scurrying insects to fill the room. All I could do is wait, wait for her to arrive, to see her try desperately to escape the monster nipping at her heels. I sluggishly walked over to the doorway that she would soon dart threw in her futile exodus from him. I leaned up against the wall next to the doorway and laid in wait. I waited and waited, time blurred and seemed to linger forever, who knows, this is hell, maybe it did (I guess the old saying "a watched pot never boils" certainly applied here). My back slid down the filthy wall and I sat on the sticky floor. The reeking stench pit scorched my throat with every inhale, I choked on the foul air. But in the midst of my cough I heard a distant and familiar sound, I held my breath, I strained to hear it again, hoping it wasn't my imagination. I tried to hear it again, but their was nothing, I finally gave up, I exhaled, but as I exhaled I heard it again, it was louder then before, more distinct, clearer, closer and very familiar. It was the sound of toppling furniture and the faint cries of that little girl. I sprang to my feet in anticipation, my muscles tensed, I stood in position, ready to save her and this time I would get it right! I cautiously stuck my head out from behind the doorframe looking for any signs she would soon emerge, but the next room was as black as pitch, it was as if nothing existed beyond that doorway.

The flurry of noise and vibrations approaching most certainly did exist; I could tell she was getting very close. I could hear her tiny footsteps in between the monstrous strides of that fat little man nipping at her heels. I heard her getting closer and closer, any moment she would charge through and I would be ready. A voice in my head told me she was just about to emerge, I sprang out from beside the doorway, my arms outstretched, from the black void she appeared. I caught her in my arms, I gripped tightly onto her squirming petite body. I twirled around and around, my momentum flung us into a pile of shattered furniture, I turned, I gripped her tightly, trying to shield her from the nasty tumble that was just moments away. I fell onto the wooden shards with a loud crash, I gasped as the jagged wooden pieces tore into me back, they plunged ever deeper, the serrated edges sawed my flesh. The look on her face was that of bewilderment, as I laid there, slowly bleeding to death, she kept screaming and asking who I was and what I was doing here. At first I thought she was terrified of me and what I had done to her father in the previous loop. As gobs of my own blood poured from my mouth, I repeatedly said I was sorry that I had killed her father, with every word I sprayed my own blood all over that little girls face. But when I said I was sorry, she had no idea what I was talking about. All she kept saying was "who are you?" and "what are you doing here?" She did not remember me, I did not know why, it's pretty hard to forget some stranger bursting in and viciously slaughtering your father. I asked her why she didn't remember the previous loop. All she said to that was "loop?" as I laid there bleeding to death, wooden stakes poking out of my body, getting colder with every second, shivering in pain. I came to the conclusion that she did not remember; she did not even know that she was in hell. But as I came to that revelation, that fat son of a bitch was quickly coming up behind us. A darkened hand came out from the fog and grabbed her by the throat. The fattened fingers tightly rapped around her neck, her eyes bulged, her face turned a bright red, she frantically gasped for air.

Her tiny hands grappled his meaty fingers, trying desperately to free herself from his iron grip. I looked on, unable to do anything, powerless to stop what was about to happen. I screamed at him to put her down, I called him every name I could think of to turn his attention towards me, but the burning perverted lust in his eyes was unbreakable. In a desperate act the little girl sunk her teeth into his darkened flabby flesh, he flailed around, shaking her like a rag doll, but she would not relinquish her hold on him, he groaned in pain, blood trickled from the his forearm, she was like a Pit-bull refusing to give up a meal. The man let go of her neck only to grab a hold of her flowing dark hair, he began pulling it with great strength, as soon as she open her mouth to scream he flung her frail little body across the room, she collided head first into the far wall and with a loud limp thud she crashed to the floor. That fat little man slowly, calmly strolled over to her, the look in his eyes were as if he was savoring every second of that poor little girls torment, basking in her pain.

All threw this horrible moment I kept screaming at him to stop, I thrashed among the wooden wreckage I was entwined in it, every movement I made sent bolts of pain up my spine and into the deepest recesses of my mind, but I didn't care, my feet slipped along a pool of my own blood. With every last once of strength I had left I heaved in desperation, but it was no use, I was trapped, slowly dying, looking on at a abomination coming closer and closer to a poor little girl, and I couldn't do a damn thing to stop it! I closed my eyes, unable to look on any further at the nightmare that was about to take place, her screams echoed in my ears, my body went limp, I could not fight death any longer, the cold grip of the grave had claimed me. To this day I am haunted by those last screams I heard just before it all went black.

I was a drift in the blackness of death, for an instant I was at peace, but just like before an unholy light blasted its way through my eyelids and I awoke with a jerk. Unlike the first time I returned, I was not happy to be in my own hell once again, I was relieved that I was out of that stench pit, but all I could think of was that poor little girl stuck there, her screams still echoed in my ears. I couldn't get all of the horrible images out of my head, I knew for a fact right at this moment she was being rapped and beaten. Their was nothing I could do to stop it, I could never return, I could never save her, all I could do is revisit those horrible images in my head over and over. True hell is not a place or thing, hell resides between the ears of each and every one of us.

I wish I could keep writing, it seems to calm me, it seems to give me a little peace. But the loop is about to start over again, so I am going to have to stop for now. There is so much more to tell, yet time is not willing to...

For every action, there is an equal and opposite government program.

Post Wed Feb 16, 2005 4:50 pm   View user's profile Send private message
  Display posts from previous:      
This forum is locked: you cannot post, reply to, or edit topics. This topic is locked: you cannot edit posts or make replies.

Jump to:  

Last Thread | Next Thread  >

Forum Rules:
You cannot post new topics in this forum
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
You cannot edit your posts in this forum
You cannot delete your posts in this forum
You cannot vote in polls in this forum

Templates created by Vereor and Ken