Dante’s Inferno
by
Nick Torres
As
I guided my faithful pupil Dante down into Malebolge, before us lay the black
lakes of bubbling tar. I could
sense the fear building within him, the doubt, and only my word and his faith to
protect him. I must keep a watchful
eye on Dante at all times, for I know what lays ahead, the demons of Malebolge.
“Take care!” I snatched
Dante almost before he sealed his fate in the lakes of black death.
The putrid bubbles of pus oozed from the lake, with the most unbearable
smell welcoming Dante. As we
pressed onward a blasphemous man-beast, with leathery wings and razor claws
darted towards us. The demons of
Malebolge knew they could not harm Dante, but they would still try to terrify
him. The look of terror, amazement,
and awe filled Dante’s eyes as the demons approached us. The demon looked as if it was coming for us, but instead
howled to his brethren “Blacktalons of our bridge, I bring you one of Santa
Zita’s Elders! Scrub him down
while I go back for more.” As the
demons used their grappling hooks to rake up and tear the flesh of the tortured
soul, I knew they would try to attack Dante.
“You had best not be seen by these Fiends till I am ready.
Crouch down here. One of these rocks will serve you as a screen.
And whatever violence you see done to me you have no cause to fear, I
know these matters: I have been through this once and come back safely.”
I walked to the end of the bridge, and as I approached the sixth ridge
the demons grabbed their pitchforks and darted towards me.
The satanic beasts voted Malacoda to approach me; I had to use their fear
in God to let us be. “Do you
think Malacoda, you would see me here having arrived this far already, safe from
you and every dread, without Divine Will and propitious Fare? Let me pass on, for it is willed in Heaven that I must show
another this dread state.” I
called to Dante to come forth, and one of the beasts led us farther down
Malebolge.
I
looked at Dante as he stared at the hordes of demons fishing for souls.
The souls darted and flipped like dolphins as the demons reeled them in.
Dante asked me if he could speak to one of the souls; I gazed onto the
lake until I spotted one, then calling my traveler over to speak to him.
While speaking to Dante the demons could not pass up the opportunity to
attack the soul. The demon
Curlybeard locked the soul in its clutches and asked me if I wanted to speak to
it. “I should like to know if
among the other souls beneath the pitch are there any other Italians?
As the soul told to Dante what information he had, the demons attacked
the soul, and I waited until they were satisfied to ask another question.
“Who was the sinner from whom you say you were made your evil-starred
departure to come ashore among these fiends?”
The soul spoke to Dante, but quickly tired to strike a deal with the
demons. They instead started a
brawl with him. So Dante and I
pressed onward, further down into Hell.
The
gargantuan titan lowered us onto the frozen lake of treason and betrayal,
Cocytus. The cold hearts of the
committers of treason and flapping of Satan’s wings chills the lake eternally.
Dante had to be careful here, the sheer cold would kill him, if he
stopped and lingered too long. Dante
noticed two sinners locked together and zealously kicked one of them.
Trying to ask the sinner for his name with no avail, Dante ruthlessly
ripped a chunk of the sinners’ hair out of its head. Another sinner delighting in the pain of his fellow condemned
man blurted out “Bocca, what is it that ails you? What the Hell’s wrong?
Isn’t it bad enough to hear you bang your jaws? Must you bark too?”
Dante zealously dealt with the traitors, his original compassion for
those condemned in Hell had vanished. We
pressed onwards toward the source of all sin.
“On
march the banners of the King of Hell, toward us.
Look straight ahead; can you make out at the core of the frozen shell?”
The source of all sin lay ahead of us, the first of the sinners, Satan.
Dante gazed at his blasphemous from, and we walked towards him.
The sinners of Cocytus, the ones closest to the Great Devourer were
completely entrapped within the ice, twisted into horrific shapes feeling sheer
cold and the pain of their mutilation. I
led Dante towards She Who Thirsts, the foul creature who once had worn the grace
of paradise. “Now see the face of
Dis! This is the place where you must arm your soul against all dread.”
Down here in the Judecca circle of frozen lake of Cocytus, in the bottom
of the dark pit known as Hell, lays Satan.
In front of us was the Emperor of the Universe of Pain jutted its upper
chest above the ice. Dante glared
at the 3 faces of Satan, the size comparing us to a mountain.
This behemoth had 3 faces for the races of men, red, bile, and black.
Under each head two wings rose terribly, and their span proportioned to
so gross a bird, though they were not feathers, their textures were that of a
bats’ wing. He eternally wept
from all six eyes a combination of bloody froth and pus, a mauled one sinner in
each of its’ mouths. I pointed out to Dante, “that soul suffers most, it is
Judas Iscariot, he who kicks his legs on the fiery chin and has his head inside.
Of the other two, who have their heads thrust forward, the one who
dangles down from the black face is Brutus: note how he writhes without a word.
And there with the huge and sinewy arms, is the soul of Cassius.
But the night is coming on and we must go, for we have seen the whole.”
I grabbed the shaggy coat of the king demon and led Dante down to its
thigh. “Hold fast!” I flipped backwards while holding Dante, and climbed down
Lucifer. Dante looking confused on
how we are now traveling with Lucifer’s legs extruding upwards from the ice.
I explained to Dante that we are now on the other side of the world, and
now it is day. We climbed through a
cavern and I led Dante out of the abyss past the lazy flow of the river of sin.
We walked out of the cavern until we were walking under the stars.