u/Christus_Regnat_

A few weeks ago, I got a disturbing letter addressed to my family and me. What made the parchment so disturbing it was sent by my wife, who's been missing for years. So when I got a letter from the woman we had grieved over for years, I immediately went to tell my family and friends. At first, they didn't believe me, but once they saw the classic, unique, and well-articulated writing of my wife, Persephone, they were dumbfounded.

My love, I'm sorry for what I have done. I never should've abandoned you and the family. But I want to renew our relationship; I've been living in a city in northern Alaska for the last few years, Gehenna. I know what I did wasn't right, and I know my actions won't be easily forgiven, but I plead with you: come visit. I want to be better, for you and the family.

Love,

Persephone

I know it's unlikely that she's being truthful, or that it's actually her and not a prank by some weirdo who saw my pleas in the news years ago. But it's a chance, and I can't give that up. If I have to go through Hell itself, so be it.

"So, Isaiah, what's the name of the city she's been hiding in?" Claeg probed.

"The letter mentions a place called Gehenna, but from what I can see, there's no city in Alaska named that."

"What? Why didn't you tell us that then? We could've been home and done with this stupid venture hours ago; we wouldn't even have had to be here, but all that matters is you. She's gone; Joshua and you can't change that." Claeg yelled in frustration and pity

The whole van turned towards me; some had their faces set with anger, others with sympathy, and some with pity. They knew nothing of my agony, the things I went through searching for years. I didn't respond to them; there was no use in explaining; they already knew why from one look at me. In the end, they just turned away with pity in their souls, but they continued, obviously expecting nothing from the trip at this point. But I knew there would be something; I could just feel it.

The nature passing by was covered with white, frigid dust; the trees looked dead; everything was devoid of life; the very nature seemed to lose any semblance of soul as we kept going. The very sun seemed to hide from the dreadful aura of the world around us. Even while in the van, I could hear the screaming of the oak and pine trees against the frostbitten wind. I saw no animals; they were either hiding from the deathly cold wind or dared not enter where we are.

I woke up after an hour or so; someone gasped, unnerved: the driver, Jezebel, pointed out a small, prosperous city filled with beautiful Gothic and Renaissance architecture; the world around us seemed to flourish with life and soul as we neared the town, and the snow seemed to run away from the town, like an infection fleeing from the antibodies. A sign sat propped outside the city, carved with the words

Gehenna:

Population one

"Why would a town this large not be on a map, and who makes a mistake of saying any town has one person?" Claeg asked dumbfounded

"This town seems familiar; I could've sworn I learned about this same place years ago in some class." Sophia voiced. She pulled out her phone, trying to find what the town's history was and what the name meant, but as soon as she pressed the search button, the signal disappeared, making her groan loudly. In a moment, we were at the intimidating colossal stone wall and sharp-pointed, Gothic gate. I got ready to get out and yell for someone to open up the gate, but before I could even touch the door handle, the gate creaked open with what sounded like many in agony. Jezebel hesitated before slightly pressing the gas, moving through the opening like a performer through the veil of a stage. The world seemed to brighten as we went into the town, but with the beauty and life came a new feeling: one of dread. We moved up towards the nearby curb parking beside a bakery; I could feel it, something watching us. Something sinister. Something incomprehensible.

"Let's split up and look around; hopefully we can find someone to ask where Persephone is so we can get her and leave." Simon declared, attempting to lead the group.

"If there's anyone actually here," Patrick mumbled under his breath

I heard him; I didn't care enough about his opinion to be angry. Everybody agreed that the best course of action was to slowly move through the main streets and look for someone in the town. She's here; I know she is. I may not know what's here with us, but I'll find her and bring her back, no matter what.

It was 12:53 p.m.; the day was comforting, and the relaxing fall wind brushed through the tall man's hair. He was on his daily run, his one absolute break in his day-to-day life. The air was different today; it was disgustingly thick with pure, unchecked hate and dread. But he doesn't care; why would he? He's already in the belly of the beast, and it's useless to attempt to exist in any other way. He had lived this way for what felt like an insurmountable amount of years, but it's impossible to really tell; people always say you just have to believe in yourself to escape it.

I've tried; I can't. Someone, if anyone can hear me, please, I beg of you, help me from this ever-descending hellhole.

My brother disappeared years ago; he didn't leave any evidence of why or where he went, just a cocoon of suffering and despair. Wherever he has gone, he has no hope, but when the avatar of hell itself and the power of the world have descended upon you, what are you to do? Fight back? Absurd if there is some sort of deity in this abhorrent world of decay and death; they don't care, or they have already died from the disgust begot of their own creation.

"And then the poor fucker squirmed on the ground, as my men kicked him and shattered his ribs!" the pudgy man squeaked out in a giddy manner.

The other obese snobs exhaled the final innocence from their bodies in hideous laughter in a mock of the destruction of innocence. They think they can't be touched; they think they're invulnerable to the evil they dish out to others, as if they are some supreme judge. Like they think they're at the top of the world, or something, but nobody is; the world will always find a way to cause suffering to people, hide or attempt escape as you might; it's meaningless. As they all finished their laughter of despair, something echoed from the roof above the man. When the people looked to the ceiling, they saw an incomprehensible horror. Before any of them could scream, their bodies were all on the ground, with things missing from their bodies. They were missing all five senses, along with their brain; they had become husks, but even after it was all removed, the laughter still echoed; their evil never left. They had lost everything, but they still clung to that evil.

The tall man looked around the dank, wet hellhole of flesh and grey matter; other people surrounded him, if you could even consider them people; they were enveloped in a dark fog substance and in a constant in-between state of screaming and blissful ignorance; besides that, they were missing all their limbs. He was the only sane one, or was he? Was he already one of them? Was this all life ever was: a wretched envelopment of flesh and evil? As he took a step forward, something grabbed his left hand. He looked at the man taking his hand; it was him, but with a look of pure depression and despair on his face. Before the man could say anything or even scream, the other man ripped his hand off. The other man looked intently at the delicious treat and consumed it, slowly chewing. First came the slow sound of the hard chew through muscle and skin, then the crunch of the bone; he continued till the whole hand was gone, swallowing with a disgusting gulp, desolate of hunger as if the man was already full before he ate it, like when you force down food not because you're hungry but because you just want to. Licking his lips, the other man looked into the tall man's eyes with a strong glare filled with the want for consumption. But before the other man could do anything, the tall man sprinted away, and he wouldn't have stopped, but when he looked behind him to see if the man was following him, he realized the man was beside him, running in the same manner and at the same pace; each time he slowed, the man did too. He stopped, hoping to fight the man off, but when he threw a punch, the fist simply went into the man. The tall man felt something weird going on with his hand. He tried to rip it out of the man, but when his arm pulled out, his hand was gone.

The short man lay on the ground, helpless; his arms and legs were gone, along with all his senses, and besides, even if he could leave, why would he? He felt comfort, and what harm was it? All it did was remove everything he didn't need to live; even if he wanted to, he was fused to the ground. He felt a constant sense of despair beyond the human mind, but unlike the others, he still had sentience; maybe those were just weird people- whatever. At least he got it, and they didn't, but what is it he had?

No, ignore it; pay attention to the bliss.

Who said that? Was it him? No, no, because he does know how he's different; he has hope, and he won't lose himself in himself like these others. The man used all his strength and ripped the flesh from his back, but he didn't care; he won't lose himself; he, no... I will take back my life even if I have to lose what got me here.

If you find yourself in the hellhole, remember it seems never descending, but have hope, clutch it to your chest as if it's the very heart from your own body, because it's the only defense, the only defense from this world and the true danger of it, the other one.