Canto III

(The entry way was very close to our area, and resembled a great staircase in red satin. Father Laguardia motioned for me to descend it and so we did. However, the further down into the abyss we got, the more the satin rotted away into rags, and the stairway slowly turned into a deep pit the bottom of which I could not find. Finally, we had made it to Hell itself. The first realm of Hell we entered was one of absolute nothingness- well, not entirely absolute nothingness, but it was mainly grey everywhere- grey sky, grey clouds, with only a few scatterings of dark green trees and some souls wandering and sighing to themselves to break the desolate grayness. I carried my laptop in a sack behind me, my voice recorder clicked on, whirring spasmodically. Laguardia said that, while most possessions are left behind, those possessions that are allowed shall never break. He says it was because of a demon that feasts off of technology, but I'm not so certain of that until I see it.)

*Moaning, sighing, far off sounds of a distant river*

What is this place, Father?

"This, young man, is the Vestibule. All souls who were apathetic to the ways of the afterlife were placed here. All angels who refused to take sides, all who neither feared God nor revered God."

*Louder moaning* (Passing us was a strange looking creature in a yellow robe. It had a mask of white bone and its cloak seemed to twist and contort into tentacles near the ends.)

Father?

"Yes?"

What is that abomination?

"That is a being that created a third side. You may see some more in this realm, but this is a relatively small circle, and we have not yet even crossed the river Acheron."

*Footsteps, the rushing river increasing in volume*

(Far off, a bearded man is yelling at souls, and forcing them onto a small ferry. Something seems off about the bearded man's face. Lagaurdia seems to have already known him.)

"Ah, Riccardo. Look. It's Charon, the Ferryman of the Acheron."

(At this point, I have to distinguish between The Ferryman and Laguardia. They will be represented as F and L, respectively. I hope this is not confusing to you.)

(As we neared him, I immediately noticed what had been troubling me initially. Charon had no eyes. Instead, he had rough patches of skin covering his eyes.)

L: "Ah, Charon! I thought I would never glance upon you."

F: "I suppose you hoped you would never glance upon me again."

L: "I assure you-"

F: "Do not lie in the realm of the liars, or I may be tempted to haul you back myself. Nobody wishes to enter this world. But the question that comes to my mind is this - why are you back here at all?"

L: "I have come here to escort this man, Father Riccardo Abandonato of the Catholic Church, through the circles of Hell."
F: "Hmm... I suppose that is a decent enough excuse for an unsightly return. Here; I shall open a gateway to my private quarters."

(Suddenly a door opened slightly away from the ship. The naked, shadowy souls clambered on top of each other in a mad attempt to enter. Charon kept hitting them with a stick, brutally beating some for not much more than sheer pleasure, and then he let us pass through the doorway into a grand study with bookshelves upon bookshelves adorning the walls of all bindings, languages, and sizes. It was a sight that pleased the eyes and looked humbling in this lavish den.)

Father Laguardia, this does not seem to be like Hell at all.

"Do not let your eyes blind you with foolishness. Look closer, and you shall see that there is terror even in this seemingly lavish room."

(I walked over to one of the books on the shelf. I look closely at the leather bound novels that stack the shelves. I remember being hesitant about pulling one out, as if an unseen trap would spring or perhaps I would be subjected to horrors I could not comprehend. But something else was etching at the back of my mind. What if Laguardia was wrong? As I looked closer and examined the inside cover, I knew immediately that he wasn't. The paper had a rich tan to it, and seemed to be textured after human skin. Upon closer examination, I realized it was human skin. The ink, a dull faded red, also smelled of the iron stench of blood. Another thing happened. Whispers entered my head. It sounded like at least a dozen voices saying different things at a time. I found that I remembered things that I didn't know before. I remembered being born in 1958. No... 1972. No. I was declared female... and then male... female... female... male... male... male... female... I was receiving the memories of multiple people at once. I firmly shut the book and put it back. Most of the information faded away, but the birth dates are still stuck with me. Then I saw a timid leatherbound book on a lower shelf. It said Laguardia. It couldn't be. I slowly began to open the book when the Ferryman rushed past Lagaurdia and firmly took my book.)

F: No! No! No! Those books are not for you! I understand. You want something to read. But! But... you may read any number of selected fiction novels. A long trip. A long boat trip. Torture the souls on deck. Writhing. Screaming. Same old, same old. Always the same.

L: Relax, good man. He did not know, nor could he have known.

F: You! You could have told him!

L: No. I could not. The first time I was here was with the unhallowed souls of the damned in the ferry

F: Ah. Good point. Good point. Rest up! The journey may be long. May be short. Sometimes it's 8 mortal hours. Other times it's 2 mortal weeks! Rest up!

(I noticed that the Ferryman seemed to be repeating himself, adding things he thought were necessary, and speaking in chopped sentences. It seemed peculiar, but I did not argue. I decided to read some of the selected fiction given to me. He had no books on religious studies, save a couple that had a symbol that looked all too familiar to me. I eventually ended up reading The Count of Monte Cristo for the first time since... I don't remember when. But it made me feel a little more comfortable, even in the sudden change of our host's behavior.)

(It wasn't until I had finished chapter seven of that novel and prepared to rest for the night that everything went wrong.)

*Footsteps*

Laguardia?

*No response*

*Mumblings from other room*

What the-?

F: Nonono... hetookmybooks hetookmybooks... *inelligible* mustn'ttakemysoulsfrommemustn'ttakethem. Ineedsomething. Ineeditbad. Theyoungman! Theyoungmanwhoforsakenedmybooks! Hemustpaymustpaymustpay...

*Footsteps from other room*

Laguardia!?

L: Yes?

The Ferryman. He's coming here.

L: ...I'm afraid I know, my child.

Can't you help me?

L: I'm afraid I cannot.

What!?

L: I'm sorry.

*Ramblings get louder*

L: I cannot help you now. I will try to hold him off as best I can, but I can do little to inhuman creatures in this form. However, I believe you may be able to escape him.

Laguardia?

L: Yes?

What if we can't escape him?

L: There's always one more option...

*Pounding on the door*

F: *Muffled* Openup! Openup! Hahaha!

L: We can swim across the river Acheron if necessary.

*Door bursts open*

F: *Frenzied cries*

(It was as if the cool, educated, if slightly sadistic man I had seen earlier had completely degraded into a caricature of disorder and chaos. His hair was unkempt, and pinholes of flame appeared in the center of the patches of skin that covered his eyes. His mouth was grinning, toothy and discolored as opposed to the refined, almost perfect-looking teeth he had earlier.)

L: Run!

*Footsteps, the Ferryman's cries echoing throughout the halls*

(The warm, inviting library I had seen before still retained its bookshelves, but it had descended into a twisted, gothic maze-like series of catacombs that played tricks on the mind. I ran, feet pumping. Even when I felt blood seep from wounds in my feet I kept running. I kept running until the Ferryman had me cornered. Then I noticed the torch in the brazier at the far end of the corridor.)

*Footsteps*

F: You... you have something... I wantit! IWANTIT!

No. Now stay back or I burn these bucks.

F: NO! NO! You've already taken too many minds, too many pasts! I need someone's to curb the pain. The pain. I need someone's memories. I need yours!!!

*Fire blazing*

F: NO! NO! NOOOO!!!! NOo... no... n-n-ngghh...

(At this point the Ferryman collapsed in the catacombs, a dazed, blankly-staring old man. He looked defeated, and he looked uncomprehending of the outside world. Then everything turned back into the library that it once was, save the books, which were scorched beyond repair.)

L: Congratulations.

Father Laguardia?

L: I'm sorry. I tried setting obstacles to intervene him, but he was too agile. I have failed you.

No... no you haven't, Father. But I must know... why did the Ferryman collapse? What did he mean by memories? Why me?

L: The Ferryman was once a being of great power. The keeper of all knowledge. Then the Dark Lord decided to rule over all other beings, including God, and failed. The Ferryman, however, he was able to take with him. The Ferryman needed to feast off of memories, ideas, and knowledge. When you inherited the knowledge, his brain function slowly began to slow down, and he lost some of his own personal knowledge, finally descending into paranoia and a frenzy to regain the remaining shards of his psyche. And it was like a tidal wave striking an island. Once the main damage is done, the shock waves move out and form even greater threats. When you burned all his memories, he collapsed. Collapsed into the nothingness that spawned him.

So he will no longer harm anyone?

L: No... no my child, not for some time. But the Dark Lord will find ways to return the Ferryman to his full strength, but for now we can simply rest in his place until we arrive on the other shore of the Acheron.

Oh wait!

*Footsteps, book is pulled out and falls to pieces*

Oh no...

L: What is it, my child?

It was a book... it had your name on it and...

L: Yes, child, it was most likely mine. I assumed that he had taken my memories. However, I don't want those memories, nor do I want you to know them. Whatever it was that caused me to be here, I do not ever wish to touch upon again.

...yes, Father.

(I finally had time to type this all. We are almost on the opposite shore of the Acheron. Then, Limbo. The First Circle of Hell...)