Dan Eats Cat Food’s Inferno: Circle Nine: The Evil and Satan

Posted: June 3, 2010 by kaostheory in Inferno
Tags: , , , , ,

My nerves sparked as we walked through the gates leading to the Ninth Circle. Let me be frank. Terror wracked the very core of my soul. I will make no claim otherwise. To do so would be pure and total falsity. Imagine my surprise then when we entered to not find roiling horrors the likes of which no living man had ever witnessed. Imagine my surprise when we we not consumed by the very epitome of evil itself. Imagine my great surprise when I found that we were in fact standing on what appeared to be a large stone platform framed by tremendous legs. They were not only legs, however. They were merely the legs of giants, looming over us, surrounding a giant pit which I assumed to be the actual Ninth Circle. My puzzlement must have been evident for Astley laughed quietly.

“Giants, poet?”

“Yes. They keep watch over the Ninth Circle as creatures that symbolize the size and weight of the sins lurking below. Follow me. I know of one that will help us.”

Down a ways from the entrance was one of the largest of the giants. It appeared to nod at us and lifted us up gently from the platform. My grip on the giant’s ring finger would have broken bones of a normal-sized man, yet the giant – Flyseethem – did not appear to notice. Soon enough, we reached the Ninth Circle. My step off onto the surface was, shall we say, ignominious, as I promptly slipped and fell. Astley helped me to my feet – smirking the whole time – and explained to me that those here in the worst circle are frozen in ice, rather than burning in eternal fire as I was assuming. Making sure I stayed steady, he led me to the first of four concentric rings – yes, friends, more rings – in the circle. I noticed quickly the souls under the ice. They were immersed up to their heads, which wailed steadily.

“Who are the first that lie frozen here?”

“This ring, Phelpa, is quite appropriate for these souls. These are those that use their websites for the purpose of harming others. These are those not of God from the Westboro Baptist ‘Church’. They use their Internet presence to spread hate and misery across the world, both on homosexuals and atheists as well as those who truly do love and revere God. They represent nothing but damnation for themselves, not for others. Whether those they hate will be sent to actual Hell is not for us to know. What we do know is that they will languish here, cursing the life they brought on themselves. Let us continue.”

The next ring was Trojanora, not as far away as I would have expected, and was filled with those encased all the way past their mouths, ending at their noses, allowing them the priviledge of breathing. They could not speak, save muffled groans, and their pleading eyes followed us as far as we walked.

“Those who created viruses,” Astley said, not even waiting for my question, “They used the Internet – a place of knowledge and exploration – to wreak a special kind of damage on others. They used their promise as programmers not just to scare others, as did those who created the screamers, but to actively cause harm. They created programs to actually damage computers of others for no other reason than to hurt them. These souls now much live throughout eternity being unable to rationalize their behavior to anyone. Their mouths will remain frozen, locked down. And we must move on.”

Lamonaea was the third ring and those that dwelled there were on their backs in the ice, only their faces exposed to the air above. I took care to not step on any of the faces, though the sheer frequency and randomness of the placement of the faces made it impossible to avoid them all. I claim no fault in damaging any that I walked over, yet I cannot feel pity regardless.

“And these?” I asked, curious.

“Those who took creation of viruses even further than those who came before. These are the hackers, the phishers, the scammers. These are those beings who would use the Internet to not only break into computers and systems the world over, but damage and even steal vital information from others. Bank accounts. Personal emails. Even classified governmental secrets. Nothing on the Internet is truly safe from these hackers. They will remain with only their faces exposed forever, their mouths spewing gibberish, even in their panic to escape. If they can form a coherent sentence, they may be allowed to move higher up in Hell. They never shall. One more ring, friend, and then we shall meet the Lord of Darkness himself.”

The last ring was very quiet, for all those souls there were completely encased in ice, their faces contorted in horror, their hands grasping their nether regions firmly. I could feel no pity. If they were here, the last ring before the end, they had to be the worst creatures to populate the Internet and surely deserved whatever suffering they experienced. Astley assured me I was not incorrect.

“The fourth ring. Mootecca. The worst of the worst. Kaos, those who cannot move below us are from 4Chan. They are Anonymous. Here you have all of the worst parts of every previous circle combined into one evil mass. Racists. Pedophiles. Perverts. Idiots. Attention-seekers. Pornography addicts. Wrathful. Hackers. Virus-makers. Meme-creators. Mentally deficient. Morally deficient. Humanity deficient. Being submerged in ice forever is too good for what they have done. Yet they pale in comparison to what we are about to face.”

Ahead of us was a massive iron gate. Past it was the ultimate in evil on the Internet. I was afeared but a firm guiding hand from Astley led me through the gate. My breath left me as I gazed upon him. Massive. Locked in ice up to his waist. All three faces looking bored and emotionless, yet chewing thoughtfully on three creatures whom Astley identified as Fred Phelps in the left mouth, Harvey Levin in the right and Moot – the creator of that damned 4Chan – in the position least desirable, head-first in the center mouth. Behind him, his suit tails whipped up an icy wind, maintaining his imprisonment in this Hell. It was him.

Al Gore.

“Why him?” I managed to stammer out, in awe at this creature before me.

“Simple, my friend. He created the entirety of this evil. By bringing the Internet into existence, he bears the full weight of creating all this evil. All the perverts and hatemongers and idiots are his offspring. All the human exploitation and spam email and cruelty to others are his sins. He committed the ultimate sin: creation. His sin has completely and totally changed the modern world as we know it. Forever. For all the evil he has brought into the world, Internet or real life, he is condemned to be the centerpiece of Internet Hell. Yes, Kaos. Al Gore is the Internet’s Satan.”

“What do we do now?”

“We leave this place. Follow me.”

Quickly, he moved around behind the creature, bringing an annoyed howl from the three mouths and motioned me over. I hurried as fast as I could and followed his example as he jumped onto the back of the tremendous suit, sliding down the fabric. Our journey was long as we traveled further and further down the suit, the fabric never seeming to end. We even passed through the center of the world, the gravity graciously changing to accommodate us. After what seemed to be eons, we emerged from the other side of the world, climbing up onto a beautiful grassy green field, stars sparkling overhead.

We had passed through the Internet’s Hell and had survived. We were free. I was free.

Free.

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