The wooden floor croaked under the weighted strain of the still living soul, even the inanimate note my living presence Berivoj thought to himself. Thus far the journey had been rather tame, for such a place of “unspeakable horrors” it was all rather boring. That was until the screams could be heard, the infinite calling cries of the eternally damned. Cries of all languages, all species, all bloodcurdling and horrific. It’s a tempt on you. You must ignore, this being is used to manipulating all sorts of people into admitting their sins, ignore his temptations. Get to the gates.
Empty winds fluted around the Ferryman’s skull, tickling the shadow’s cowl. Time-stained teeth chattered through the wind, slowly it reached its thin arms to the the long draping cape it wore, and away from the still paddling oar . “Mighty cold is she, Mistress Styyx, tonight she is lonesome.”
“Mistress?” Berivoj asked hesitantly.
“Aye, Mistress, she be. As all things in the 13 Hells- it, and she, have a common backstory, and as tragic as they come,”
He smiled and pulled from seemingly nothingness, and old fiddle. Scrawny, bare-bone hands reached for it and began playing quietly amongst madness. Or perhaps it was playing madly amongst quietness.
“Well Styyx like all beings of Hell was once a mortal, like yourself, Princess of a far off lands, lady of the seas, maiden of beauty, contested only by the Gods themselves. And as you or I may know, you don’t tempt a God. However Mistress Styyx knew of no evils against the Gods… she simply pushed her gambit too far. She repelled the Gods, she had no favors amongst them anyway, her peoples didn’t pray in temples, but rather her own palace. Sacrilege be damned, she had a popular following. Her actions angered the Gods who then decided to cast her away to the lowest realms of reality- the Hells. Cast far far away, falling from Valsora and down down down. Her mortal form struck rock bottom, and her blood filled the crevice of ground she broke- filling deep and forging the river Styyx. This be the fall of Mistress Styyx… but the rise of our great protector, the River Styyx.”
Berivoj couldn’t help but feel a sneaking yawn which he ripped from his throat. Why am I so tired? It’s not night here or at least I hadn’t felt this way earlier. The same clicking chatter of Teeth on Teeth echoed past the sleepy prince. The paddling seemed to calm and a now quiet aura filled the River between Hells.
“Rest sweet prince… it is almost done.” The Ferryman said, hushing the resistance of the ever more sleepy Berivoj.
“S-l-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-p.” It trailed.
A glowing blue glow flowed from the empty sockets of the Ferryman. Emotion?
“Wha- what is your n-name s-i-i-i-r?”
“I think…” It paused, “They called me Charon… but I never liked that name.”
“Ch-a-er-“ and Sleep became him, and his only goal was to dream peacefully.
“Chare.” He thought, his blank eyes starring into blank nothing. “I like that.”
I’d like to think the peaceful dreams I had were a nice glimpse at what happened to me in another timeline… another reality… another whatever. The fields of Stylvania happy, and full of peace. Mother. Father. Grandfather. They were still with me. I felt them. I hugged them. I felt their radiance beam on me. But they were of that other timeline or that other reality, but the truth remained, they weren’t mine.
The water was metallic, and it surrounded him. “krghhh mmmh nhnnn!” He squirmed as his head slowly sank deeper and deeper underwater. The pressure of a seemingly unmovable grip dredged him deeper and deeper.
“I’m deeply sorry sweet prince, but you must see.”
He rammed his legs up like a mad horse, flailing rapidly. Images passed by him, faces, rallies, voices. Smellings of colors and visions of sounds. All blasting deep into his flesh covered skull.
“You may not remember all of this but some will remain-“
C-r-u-n-c-h. With a sound fist bone on bone is heard once more as the half-drowned prince slams a punch into the Ferryman’s skull. Fracturing crystalline bone scatter across the river surface, before slowly waving their goodbyes. And again a small glow of blue.
AWAKEN.Berivoj forces his eyes to open and a sight of people and creatures of all sights appear before him.
“We’ll take Number 120,851,739,088 now please.”
A line of sinners. Erpir Christus is Hell a Bureaucracy?
“Please keep your position in line. We will not remind you of the dangers which line the outside of a line. And thank you for coming to Hell.”
Aivintis
Restoration of Eastern Kaiserreich
Brethren
