Sweetie Hell

Sweetie Belle awoke to alarms of pain firing off all throughout her body. She attempted to raise her head and promptly let it fall again when her neck screamed to cease and desist immediately. She tried to get her legs underneath her, but was forced to quit when all four legs cried in one voice that now was not the time for movement. Not even laying still provided much comfort; her head and face were severely bruised, both sides of her body ached terribly, it hurt to breathe, and her horn was throbbing to an almost unbearable degree.

At least I'm not dead, the young filly thought sardonically. She gently eased both eyes open and was relieved to feel no pain accompanying the move. Next she tried moving her ears. The left one was trapped beneath her head, but the right was able to flex freely and without any discomfort. She rolled her eyes around to get as much of a view of her surroundings as possible, but all she could see was a labyrinth of menacing black trees whose branches looked like clawed hands ready to snatch up any unsuspecting prey. Her ear turned at the sound of howls and screeches from multiple directions that were all thankfully very far away.

I can't just lay here forever. Ugh, this is not going to be fun. Sweetie Belle squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her jaw against the unpleasantness that was about to take place. Her every muscle and tendon and square inch of skin protested very loudly as the young filly forced herself to sit upright. Sweetie bit back a cry, but she could not help an agonized whine squeaking out through her teeth. She sat on her rear for a moment to wait for the pain to subside, tears threatening to flood the banks of her eyes and spill down her cheeks. She forced herself to take long slow breaths in order to keep calm and try to speed up her recovery. Before long the pain dissipated enough that with one final effort Sweetie Belle pushed herself to stand on all four hooves, and then it spared no expense in reminding the poor girl that she was still quite injured. She hissed through her teeth and a couple of tears slipped free, but she was finally standing.

"Galloping goddesses," Sweetie said in one exhausted breath. Even though it hurt a great deal, standing upright somehow felt like a relief. She turned her head slowly now she was able to get a better look at the environment, though her neck still throbbed painfully as she put it to work. By this point the worst was behind her, and now she was able to mostly tune out the isolated aches which littered a great percentage of her frame. The sky was still that sinister crimson color and stained by stagnant black clouds, and the trees were still their dark and fearsome selves. The woods were very much alive with the sounds of feral screams and wails which were still a long ways off. She turned to look at the wall behind her and followed it up for as far as her pain threshold would allow. Scattered all over it were rocky outcrops of varying size and shape that could easily have broken or even killed Sweetie Belle had she hit even one of them. Somehow her tumbling descent had traced a straight line through almost all of them, and where it didn't she'd managed to bounce off the wall with enough height to pass over the rest.

"That was lucky," Sweetie remarked to herself. She put the wall out of her mind to address the foreboding woods in front of her. Every instinct told her not to go in. The claws of an old but never truly forgotten fear gripped her heart when she looked into the menacing darkness before her, like staring into the yawning jaws of a crocodile. It threatened to paralyze her against rational thought and bolt her to the ground where she stood, but she forced it down until she could bury it deep and make the decision that had to be made. She took a deep breath to steel herself before striding forward into the forest.

The dead woods of anger were disturbingly quiet between the odd bouts of screeching from parts yet unknown. Sweetie crept along as carefully and quietly as she could manage, trying to at least lessen her fears by humming a series of happy tunes to herself, primarily Pinkie Pie's number specifically about laughing at things that scare you. As she looked around, however, the young filly did not feel up to laughing at anything. The trees looked more like frozen nightmares than humble plants, and they always seemed to be watching her. She often had to duck branches which sometimes reached low enough to block the way forward, the sharp tines on the ends scraping against her skin and threatening to become tangled in her hair. She could swear they moved when she wasn't watching them. The sounds of wood groaning and clucking as it shifted around regularly greeted her ears, and she knew deep down that their movements were their own.

As she quietly sang to herself her ears picked up another sound, one that was familiar and morbidly comforting to hear. Sweetie Belle quickened her pace and followed the sound to its source. After passing through a break in the trees Sweetie found a river of oily gray liquid cutting through the woods, and stuck within were the souls of sinners condemned to the Circle of Anger. They shouted and cursed at everything around them, and they often fell upon each other like wild beasts to do pointless battle for any or no reason at all. They complained about being unjustly damned, about the unfairness of dying before they were ready, the injustice of not seeing other people who always seemed more deserving of this torment, and other such things. Many even hurled angry blasphemies at God, whom they believed tricked or misjudged them since they had been "perfect" models of their individual faiths.

Sweetie Belle quickly came to ignore their protests and outcries as she followed the river. Her thinking was that the water's path would eventually lead her out of the forest, but where exactly that was she had no idea. However, for the moment, anywhere was better than being stuck in these woods with their snarling trees. As she walked with the river's flow she kept a weather eye for danger, and though she could hear awful things crying fury and hellfire deeper in the woods, her presence was still unknown to the more despicable residents of this fowl place. Her mind often drifted to thoughts of Virgil as she went. She couldn't help longing for Virgil's comforting presence, wishing that they would find each other soon so that she would no longer have to face the dangers of Anger alone. More than once she had entertained the idea of finding a place to hole up and wait for the poet to find her, but she could not bring herself to fully commit to such a course. The beasts of the dark wood, though as of yet unseen by Sweetie Belle, frightened her too much to stay still for any length of time.

Soon the oily river bled into a larger flow that was dotted with small isolated islets of mossy ground. From here the current ran off in two separate directions which may or may not eventually turn parallel to one another after some distance; Sweetie Belle's small stature and limited vision in the cluttered darkness made her uncertain of this. She let out a short agitated groan before assessing the best route by which to cross. She quickly spied a series of islets that were all arranged in their various shapes and sizes to create a sort of stepping stone pathway spanning the the distance between the shorelines.

"It's okay. Nothing to worry about. It's just like playing Lava Floor at Rarity's house," Sweetie Belle said as she moved forward to stand at the head of the path. She glanced down at the thick tar-like water below, and the souls thrashing about therein. "Only instead of falling harmlessly into a big pile of Rarity's expensive fabrics, I will fall into that. And instead of Rarity yelling at me for the millionth time about messing with her stuff, I will probably drown or get beaten to death by these guys. Yup; nothing to worry about." After taking a few deep breaths to calm her nerves, she attempted the crossing. The first two jumps were perfect, but the third was rather harrowing when Sweetie slipped on a patch of moss and nearly slid face-first into the river. The ground buckled under her rear hooves when she leaped for the next platform, but otherwise it was a smooth transition. To reach the next islet she only had to take a larger-than-usual step, and then it was a small hop down to the one after that. The eighth platform required her to make a vertical jump to catch the ledge and pull herself up; a task Sweetie dreaded thanks to her less-than-stellar performance climbing the gears in the previous Circle. Here at least her hooves were able to dig into the soil and give her enough grip to successfully hoist herself onto level ground. The final transition--in accordance with all of Sweetie Belle's expectations--would require a tremendous leap to the riverbank which, due to the irregular shape of the islet on which she stood, had to be done without a running start.

"Hayseeds," the unicorn spat cursing her misfortune. Sweetie Belle fixed her gaze on her destination and repeatedly imagined herself making the jump without any mishaps, psyching herself up and getting in the right mindset to make a proper and flawless go of it. She crept forward as close to the edge of the islet as she dared to maximize the distance of her leap, and then planted her rear hooves into the ground while her fore hooves pressed against the ledge to provide extra power. Sweetie Belle began mentally counting: One...two...three, and with all the strength she could muster she threw herself forward. The other side quickly drew closer to the unicorn's outstretched arms.

Something slammed into Sweetie Belle from the left. The violent impact threw her sideways onto the riverside, where she slid a short ways on her back, and then something fell upon her. All she could see was the black silhouette of a round head, large pointed ears, and crazed yellow eyes. The thing screamed in Sweetie Belle's face and lunged to bite her face. The little foal yelped while simultaneously a brilliant white light erupted reflexively from her horn, startling and blinding the hostile creature and forcing it to fall back. The animal scrambled backwards and hid within its leathery wings, spitting and snarling all the while it tried to recover. Sweetie Belle was quite shocked by the experience, but she did not wait around for her assailant to make another attempt on her life; she quickly returned to her hooves and sprinted into the woods at top speed. All around her the wilderness came alive with feral screams and the flapping of wings as more of the creatures became aware of the new prey that had stumbled into their territory. She could hear them chasing after her, but thankfully the trees and their tangled branches made it impossible for the beasts to do anything besides match the unicorn's pace from the air. Unfortunately it wasn't long before they started dive-bombing Sweetie Belle with total lack of regard to the trees. They howled savagely as branches ripped and even pierced their flesh, but they stubbornly, desperately refused to be denied their prize. Some became too tangled or too injured to continue the pursuit, and others outright died as dagger-sharp splinters impaled their hearts, stomachs, and even their skulls.

On and on Sweetie Belle ran, pure adrenaline driving her forward and helping her to avoid tripping over or crashing into any obstacles along the path. She ignored the fires that burned her heart and lungs and the worsening cramps in her sides. Her fear of dying pushed such concerns out of her mind in favor of survival. Even the constant bites of the trees slicing her fur and flesh at her passing did not matter. Eventually she was forced to stop not out of fatigue, but due to the road ahead being blocked by a downed tree. Sweetie Belle cast her frantic gaze left and right, but the tangle of branches and nettles was too thick to force open an escape route.

"Shit!" The rare expletive perfectly summed up the complete hopelessness of Sweetie's situation. She spun round and made to go back, but it was too late; the beasts had found her. They crashed through the brush from every which-way, crying and snarling angrily in their desperation to get to the unicorn. Spittle flew from their snapping mouths filled with many blood-stained teeth. Sweetie Belle called on her magic and summoned another flash of light which held the terrible things at bay. Again and again she pushed them back, but her mastery of magic was quite limited, as demonstrated by the waning brilliance of each successive flash.

There was another flash of light, only it had not come from Sweetie Belle. In fact she was the only party present who could see through it to find Virgil standing before and looking down at her. The devils shrieked and hollered and protested as they scrambled away from the offending light, but Sweetie was able to hear the poet's authoritative voice as clearly as if he were shouting in her ear. "Fly, child!"

The air rattled with the eruption of a massive furious roar that momentarily drowned out all other sound in the Circle of Anger. The flying creatures swiftly fell silent and took to the air, but they remained nearby. Off in the distance could be heard explosions of trees being violently and carelessly knocked aside as something truly monstrous thundered its way through the forest. Sweetie Belle's attention was pulled in the direction of the awful thing bearing down on her location, and she trembled with fear.

"Virgil..." she implored.

"This way! Quickly!" The poet became a globe of light and darted away into the woods, and Sweetie Belle was not far behind him. At their escape the demons began shrieking again, likely signaling the other beast that their prey was on the move. The pair traced a winding path through the thicket that Sweetie Belle gradually realized was meant to stall the worst of their pursuers. They had managed to put on considerable distance from their previous location when they heard another outraged roar followed by a curt shout, and then the woods sang with the splintering and felling of trees as the beast started charging after Virgil and Sweetie.

At last they came to a halt at a beach, where for miles ahead in nearly every direction stretched an enormous expanse of thick gray water. Sweetie Belle's heart sunk in her chest at the sight of it. "What do we do now?" she wailed.

"The beacon!" was Virgil's only reply, and he gestured with his left arm. There was indeed an enormously tall stone tower a short distance away. Sweetie ran to it and forced her magic into action, summoning a small spark to leap from her horn and light a thin red cord which ran up inside the tower. The resulting flame raced up the cord and disappeared within the obelisk, and after several long seconds a tremendous fire came roaring to life at the top of the tower. Her task done Sweetie Belle rushed back to Virgil's side to wait for whatever was next to happen. Behind them, the forest continued to break and scream with the tantrums of the nightmarish beast that pursued them.

"What're we waiting for?" Sweetie Belle asked with clear terror in her voice. The poet said nothing, and only kept his eyes on the water. The unicorn whipped her head around to look back at the woods. She could now feel the ground rumble with the beast's rapid stomping, and she could see the tops of trees disappear as they were destroyed in the face of the oncoming rampage. Sweetie looked back at her guide. "Virgil!"

"He comes!" From out of the mists emerged a gigantic manlike creature with very dark red skin, a pair of horns grown from either side of the head, and an odd protuberance atop the skull which glowed like a furnace. As the thing drew closer one could see its eyes burned like two small fire pits, and the chin was scarred by glowing veins which dripped molten rock into the river. There was a black metal collar clamped around its throat with a length of chain linking the creature to a raft that dragged slowly behind. The craft itself was probably forty feet long and fifteen feet wide, had a broken carving of what had once been a fearsome dragon on the prow, and the outer hull was littered with holes and gashes. It looked like it had been a mighty vessel in a former life, but now it served as a ferry for the dead.

"Who is that?" Sweetie Belle inquired.

"Our salvation," was all Virgil would say as to the creature's identity. Behind them could now be heard the rushed and heavy breathing of the beast pushing through the forest. It was distressingly close, and the figure pulling the ship still seemed so far away. Sweetie's heart pounded painfully in her breast. Her panicked gaze danced between Virgil and the giant. As the seconds ticked by she was growing less certain that this plan would succeed. Her mind became flooded with thoughts of being brutally murdered at the claws of the beast thundering through the forest, her last sights always being of the boat that did not come in time, and of the poet who had failed to take her home. Sweetie Belle turned around to face the woods. A silhouette appeared in the darkness, and it was swiftly growing larger and more visible with every stride. The unicorn foal screamed and ran for the water's edge.

She saw the wooden side rail almost too late and managed to turn away just before impact. She slammed lengthwise against the protective barrier and knocked the wind out of her lungs, but otherwise she was unharmed. Virgil approached the front of the boat and called out to the giant at helm, but Sweetie Belle was too dizzy to make out what exactly was said. She vaguely felt the vessel move underneath her as she waited for her senses to recover. Soon enough her head stopped spinning, and at last she could stand to look around. They were definitely on the boat, that part Sweetie Belle was grateful was not a hallucination or a vivid dream her mind cooked up so she didn't have to see herself die. Just to be sure she thumped her hoof against the floor a couple times. She looked over one side of the ship and saw an endless stretch of sinners writhing about in the water. On the other side was the beach she had stood on mere moments ago, the dark forest behind it, and the demon that had been hunting her.

The raging beast was eight feet tall when stood upright, with powerful legs covered in shaggy black hair and ending in large cloven hooves, a crimson torso stacked with muscle, and a black-furred ram's head armed with a large pair of horns grown high and back from the skull. The demon stomped its hooves and slammed its fists against the dirt, even ripped chunks out of nearby trees and threw them at the ship. It howled and roared in outrage at having lost its prey and paced across the beach on its knuckles, huffing and growling irritably. It would pause every so often to thump its chest before resuming its back-and-forth along the beach. Sweetie Belle could feel its hostile gaze on her, and it compelled her to hide behind the rail. They could hear the beast roar even as the ship passed into the mist and disappeared beyond its range of vision, until at last the only sounds were the the gentle lapping of the water against the sides of the vessel as the giant pulled them along, and the wailing of the dead.

"What was that thing?" Sweetie Belle said between deep breaths as she tried to settle her frayed nerves.

"Satan," Virgil said in a relieved tone. "He is the crown prince of Anger."

"Oh. He seemed nice."

"There was a time when that was once true," Virgil said.

Sweetie Belle looked across to the poet. "Was he an angel too? Like Mammon and the others?" The young filly was surprised upon receiving a nod in the affirmative. "What happened to him?"

Virgil did not answer right away, but when he did his tone was noticeably remorseful. "Before the war, Satan had been the Angel of Kindness. From what I hear he fit that title to a 'T'. He was gentle, soft-spoken, and a friend to all...especially to Lucifer. Supposedly the two were nigh inseparable, almost never seen without one by the other's side. When Lucifer set out to build his army, Satan was first to join his cause."

"What happened to turn him into that?" Sweetie pressed.

"The judgment of the renegades," Virgil answered. "When Satan was expelled from Heaven he became consumed by rage. He was angry at multiple persons for a multitude of reasons, from the Heavenly Father to Lucifer, down to even himself, and it ate him alive. It turned him into that beast." He looked back in the direction of the woods of Anger, somehow still able to see them in spite of the mist. "Now he stalks through that labyrinthine forest, alone and forgot by even he who had once been his dearest friend."

"And those flying things that were with him. Were they angels, too?" Sweetie Belle inquired next.

Virgil shook his head. "As the succubi are the forsaken children of Asmodeus, so too are the furies related to Satan. As he fell down to the Circle of Anger, Satan's wings rotted and fell from his shoulders. The disowned feathers fell into the slime that is the river Styx, and from the mixture was born the furies. They are the physical manifestation of mankind's collective anger; children against parents, hosts against guests, lords against supplicants, and so on. As such they lash out at anything and everything that enters their sight, including each other."

Sweetie Belle looked out across the river at the countless dead who viciously attacked one another within the oily water. "Tell me about them," she requested of her guide.

Virgil followed her gaze. "There is not much to tell. They are the wrathful and the sullen, who in life let their hateful passions get the better of their good judgment. Here in Hell, as they feel the very pain their inflamed behaviors inflicted on their neighbors, down among the dregs and devils of this pit of woe, do they wish they had never been born."

"And what about him?" Sweetie Belle indicated the giant towing their ship by his neck.

"He is Phlegyas, the boatman of the Styx," replied the poet. "He was a king once, in the world above. But when his daughter was murdered by the god Apollo, Phlegyas set fire to one of the deity's temples in a fit of rage. As a result he was condemned to the Circle of Anger."

The unicorn foal was preparing to speak further when she spied something in her peripheral field of vision. It was a small mote of light just peeking through the mist and growing steadily brighter as time passed. Soon one light became five, which then became seventeen, twenty-nine, and so on until the encroaching horizon resembled a field of orange and yellow stars. At last the mist broke, and beyond it was a tremendous wall of stone that reached completely across both ends of the horizon like Typhon's arms, and stood so high Sweetie Belle guessed it would take years to fly even to the wall's midpoint. She stared in awe at the immense barrier, unable to fathom what such a construction could possibly be needed to contain.

"Behold Hell's metropolis, the city of Dis," Virgil said.

"That thing is a city?" Sweetie Belle said when she'd found her voice.

The poet nodded. "Within these walls is contained the Circles of compound sin; those crimes against God and nature which have their basis in conscious choice rather than instinct, and thus are more egregious to Him." Phlegyas soon came to a halt, and shortly after the ship slowly eased into harbor alongside a sculpted stone pier stretched before a heavy metal gate. Virgil was first to desert the ship with Sweetie Belle quickly following, and then the pair looked forward to the road leading to the second half of their journey, the entrance to nether Hell. "Our first stop: the sepulchral Circle of Heresy, where be damned those who denied immortality to themselves and others by preaching false ideologies."

As the gate slowly squealed open, the songs of the miserable dead echoed forth with force and volume like the wind of a thunderstorm that had been trapped in a bottle. Sweetie Belle steeled herself with a brief exercise of deep breathing before striding forward with Virgil. The Circle of Heresy was inviting them to come inside, and they had no choice but to enter.