Sweetie Hell

The descent seemed without end, the only sense of movement in the unyielding dark being the air which rushed through Sweetie Belle's hair. She had attempted a light spell at some point, but the darkness jealously guarded its secrets and mocked the young filly's efforts to illuminate their surroundings. This was a place where light was not welcome, and Sweetie could sense that neither was she. More and more she felt as if she were trespassing, like she was violating some sacred law just by being here, and her growing anxiety was causing her to imagine that something was lurking in the darkness, watching her and waiting for the opportune moment to pounce. Sweetie tilted her head up towards the cliffs of Violence, and was taken aback when she saw a small speck of light no bigger than a star in the middle of a vast and empty sky looking back down at her. The Circle of Violence was so far away now, and yet somehow they still had not reached the bottom of this chasm. It seemed impossible that the final two Circles could be buried so deep, but, then again, Hell gloried in the absence of such mortal contrivances as logic and sanity.

Eventually the wind began to slow, and there was a sensation of momentum being reigned back as they had at last reached their stop. Geryon shifted beneath his cargo as he attempted to provide them with a safe and stable dismount from his back. Once poet and pony were on the ground, he flapped his wings and flew off to his original roosting place before he had been summoned. After a few seconds passed the darkness seemed to recede, not from the presence of a light source or because Sweetie Belle's eyes finally adjusted, but as if it was now ready to unveil what sights it had been keeping hidden away until this moment. Unfortunately there was not much to really see in this area. Geryon had left the two travelers on a large flat disc of stone, and ahead was a lone path which fed into a tunnel roughly four meters away. The air was bitterly cold and still, as if it had lain undisturbed in this place since the creation of the earth.

Positioned by the mouth of the tunnel was a gruesome beast that simultaneously disturbed and terrified Sweetie Belle when she laid eyes upon its awful visage. The creature was perhaps twenty feet long with flesh so pale it bore a bluish hue to it, and a total of ten extremities long arms equipped with claw-fingered hands. Two of the arms were held close to the chest similar to a praying mantis; spring-loaded to dart forward and snatch unwary prey in the blink of an eye, and another two were grown straight from the buttocks, presumably to push the abominable beast into forward motion. The most alarming feature about this fiend was its two heads, which had all the features of a human guise. The eyes were large, vacant, unblinking grey orbs, and the lip-less mouths were in constant motion as the creature whispered and muttered to itself in a low droning voice. The two heads bobbed whimsically on its elongated necks which, in conjunction with its inane babbling, had a mesmerizing effect on Sweetie Belle. As she slowly drifted towards the queer animal, Sweetie was certain she could almost make out what it was saying. She just needed to get a little closer, and then all secrets would be revealed.

Without warning her vision was completely filled by a semitransparent glowing body. "Stay your forked tongue, fell beast!"

Startled by Virgil's abrupt appearance and exclamation, Sweetie Belle jumped back in reflex and felt the wind on her face as a pair of spindly hands just missed clasping her head by mere inches. The owner of the hands uttered a mewling howl of outrage that split the young unicorn's ears, and then it reared back to reveal a nightmarish feature which had been hidden until now. The monster's entire underside--from throat to pelvis--was a glistening red maw filled with sharp interlocking teeth that were stained from years of devouring fresh meat. Sweetie Belle gaped in horror and desperately withdrew from the beast's range. The assailant vocalized again with a chilling moan like the combined cries of multiple dying animals, and then it skittered forward with terrifying speed, passing through Virgil without a moment's pause.

Sweetie Belle's eyes widened and her heart slammed against the inner walls of her breast. Though she could not take her eyes off the quickly advancing horror, Sweetie could sense that she was rapidly running out of room to escape. The beast gave a warbling squeal of delight as it reached out to seize its prey in its claws.

"Sweetie Belle!" Virgil cried out, his voice and expression conveying all of the pain he felt at having failed to protect the young filly, and failing to return her home. Thanks to his damnable status as a phantasm, the old poet could do nothing except watch Sweetie die.

Suddenly, whether by the grace of God or mere happenstance, a triad of projectiles fell from the sky and crashed directly upon the pale beast's back, causing it to scream in as much surprise as pain. Neither Sweetie Belle nor Virgil reacted to the miraculous shift of fortune's hand. They could only stare at the group of sinners that had fallen all the way from Minos's dread court in Limbo to begin their sentence here in the Circle of Fraud. The ashen figures moaned sadly as they struggled to stand, only to fall again as the monster beneath them rose to its feet. Its twin heads whirled this way and that before fixating on the sinners, and quick as lightning fell upon them. The first soul disappeared immediately inside the monster's massive jaws, a muffled scream being heard as his body was perforated by the gnashing teeth. The second soul was pierced through the abdomen by the beast's sharp claws, and the third had her throat and collar crushed within the monster's powerful grasp. The animal made a series of satisfied clicks and whines as it turned its back on Sweetie Belle and scuttled into the tunnel.

Once it was clear that the danger was over, Sweetie Belle fell back onto her seat and took many deep breaths to settle her frayed nerves. Virgil rushed forward to kneel at her side, his gaze fixed on the tunnel mouth to keep watch for the beast's return.

"What..." Sweetie gulped lung-fulls of air while she spoke. "What the fuck just happened?" Her sister would have punished her harshly for such vulgar language, but Sweetie could find no better word to articulate her current mood.

"Whether he knows it or not, Lord Minos just saved your life," Virgil said with a note of amused relief in his tone. He watched the tunnel a moment longer, and then turned to examine his companion. "How are feeling?"

"Like I just got the life scared out of me," Sweetie Belle replied. She looked in the direction the beast had fled and shivered involuntarily. "What was that thing?"

"That...is Orthrus. Brother of Cerberus. As the great worm of Gluttony guards the fetid swamp against all intrusion and escape, so does Orthrus perform similarly for the Circle of Fraud," Virgil said.

Sweetie Belle felt her composure return slowly, though she kept a wide-eyed vigil on the tunnel. "When...When will he come back?"

"Hard to say, but it would behoove us to not be here when Orthrus does return."

There was no hesitation as the young filly jumped to her hooves and hurried forward, leaving Virgil behind only briefly before he darted ahead. The trek through the tunnel was long and quiet save for the echoes of Sweetie's hooves against the stone ground and her rushed breathing, but they were also alone, a fact which Sweetie Belle was immensely grateful for. She was in no mood for surprises after what nearly happened on the landing platform. Every few seconds, her mind, in spite of her most ardent wishes to think of anything else, would stamp brief images of dreaded Orthrus hanging from the walls or waiting just around the bend with fresh blood dripping from his claws...and from the horrifying maw which split his thorax in twain.

Thankfully the horrid beast never reared its ugly heads as the tunnel opened out to an immense field pockmarked by a series of wide ditches that had been dug out and reinforced with smooth stone walls. Demons stood over or moved about within the pits and dispensed savage torture upon the imprisoned dead with baneful smiles on their faces and throaty laughter in their hearts. Across the entire breadth of the Circle, the screams of the miserable damned resounded like one great malignant song.

"Damnation to the Circle of Fraud awaits all who sever the sacred ties of love and trust for personal gain," Virgil remarked once he and his ward slowed to a halt. "As we advance, let your sights and heart linger on the fraudulent dead and see how they suffer for their transgressions against man and God," he added before striding forward.

"There are so many," Sweetie Belle could not help commenting in mixed dismay and horror as she followed.

"Ten torments for the ten variances of deceit which humankind has crafted," said Virgil. While the pair advanced, any demons in their path relocated to elsewhere without protest, their joy at bringing pain upon the heads of the condemned so great that they eagerly moved to other locations to do their dastardly business. None of them cared at all that there was a living unicorn in their midst. Thanks to this complete apathy for her presence, Sweetie was able to really observe the beasts at their craft. All of them were tall muscular creatures with varying shades of black, brown, or red skin and flew on membranous wings, had cloven or single-toed hooves, and horns which came in a variety of shapes and designs. Many carried whips that were decorated with either spikes or metal blades which were often put to deadly use, while others assaulted sinners with either hellfire or their bare hands. Their collective laughter and cheers made the lot of them sound as one massive pride of lions gorging themselves on a fresh kill.

The first of the ditches Virgil and Sweetie Belle would cross was more of a massive yawning hole in the ground than a proper ditch, with a large circular track spanning the entire length of the pit. Crowds of sinners were stuck below and forced to run endless laps around the track. In the center of the ring was a host of demons which brutally whipped the runners to keep them moving.

"We come first to meet the panderers and seducers." Virgil halted forward progress so his companion could have a moment to witness the dead at their lowest.

Sweetie observed the torment for a time, and though she could plainly see the sinners were in terrible pain, her ignorance of the actual crimes being punished prevented her from fully appreciating what exactly was happening. "So what exactly did they do to get sent down here?" she asked of her guide.

"They manipulated others into acting out their whims by promising gifts of material, financial, or otherwise illicit substance in return for their deeds, often with no intention of actually paying," Virgil replied. He swept his arm over the display below as he continued to explain the purpose behind the victims' torment. "As they spurred their neighbors into action for personal gain, so does Hell keep these sinners moving without a moment's pause for the rest of eternity."

The party came to the next pit of woe, and immediately Sweetie Belle's olfactory senses came under assault from a stench so foul it compelled her eyes to water and her stomach to heave. Here the dead were planted like foliage within a great steaming lake of excrement. They moaned and fidgeted like cattle stuck in the putrid muck while devils flying overhead shamelessly bombarded them with shit. The devils howled with laughter, and cheered when their droppings fell squarely upon the heads of the damned.

"Behold the flatterers, and the true value of the sweet, hollow words they fed to their neighbors," Virgil declared, appearing entirely unbothered by the rank odor rising from the hole.

"I'm gonna be sick," Sweetie said in a pained voice.

"Make sure to hit one of the bastards when you do!" hollered a passing demon as it unleashed its disgusting payload across the backside of an unfortunate soul. Something rose dangerously high in Sweetie Belle's throat before she swallowed it back down with considerable effort, her face a mask of abject illness which warned against staying in this place any longer. Virgil noticed his small companion begin to sway in her hooves and wisely chose to keep her moving forward. Once she was far enough down the road and the air had cleared, Sweetie Belle felt her gut and her senses return to normal, and she gave a small nod to indicate she was ready to proceed.

Soon the company came upon the third ditch in the Circle of Fraud, where they were treated to a most unique display of torment. A great many demonic figures stood in a large pit of oil and were garbed in mangled robes of red and black with long serpent-skin cloths draped across their shoulders which were decorated by symbols of an unknown, unholy language. Arranged around them like weeds were the legs of sinners submerged within the oil, the soles of their feet burning like torches. Every so often a set of flames would die out, at which point the victim would sink entirely beneath the black lagoon to never return, and then the demons would plant fresh souls in their place and set the newcomers' feet ablaze.

Sweetie Belle observed the bizarre ritual with rapt interest. "What is going on here?" she inquired.

"Here we find the simoniacs enjoying the ultimate reward for their sins," Virgil announced in answer. When he noticed the blank expression on his ward's face, the poet endeavored to elucidate her on the precise meaning of the sinners' title. "That is, they sold sacred objects or important church offices for personal gain."

Sweetie Belle's expression changed as if she understood, though in truth she still did not fully comprehend why this was such a serious offense. Churches and associated offices simply did not exist in Equestria, and sacred objects were typically any tool or trinket which bore considerable and very real power. Thus, once again, the cultural differences between humans and ponies prevented Sweetie Belle from appreciating the true severity of the sin being punished here. However she was continually blown away by the sheer volume of deceit the human race had invented. She was not so naive as to think that her own people were beyond lies and trickery (Sweetie Belle herself has told many a falsehood in the years she has been alive), but this was a whole other level. From her perspective, it was like fraud was a part of the humans' very culture as a species.

Virgil watched the little filly for several seconds trying to gauge her thoughts by the changes in her face. He would have liked to ask her about it, but unfortunately he could sense that time was short. Lucifer may be trapped at the bottom of Hell, but his patience was not infinite. The Morning Star would eventually tire of waiting for the meet with Sweetie Belle, and would send more deliberate agents to fetch her...or worse, to do away with her entirely. Lucifer was not afraid of solving problems by murdering the source, as many demons, fallen angels, and even former lords had learned across the millennia. Fearing what might happen should Lucifer grow bored, Virgil gently coaxed Sweetie Belle forward.

He brought her to the fourth of Fraud's yawning pits, wherein was another running track similar to what had been seen in the first bolgia. The difference here was that instead of being goaded into a perpetual sprint, the dead ambled along at a constant yet leisurely pace. Whips and bolts of fire periodically assaulted them from the demonic overseers above to keep them moving. Through the crack of the whip and the derisive laughter of the devils atop the pit, the sounds of heavy weeping could be heard from the damned as they walked.

"Who are these people?" Sweetie Belle asked.

To which, Virgil replied, "They are the diviners and fortune tellers, who deceived their neighbors by falsely claiming to possess knowledge of the future. So busy were they with lying about the future that they failed to see what their misdeeds were doing to their souls. But now, Hell makes them see what they bought with their deception."

At first glance these shades appeared to be experiencing the least of Fraud's punishments. As Sweetie Belle watched them, she noticed that the crowd was walking in reverse rather than forward. Then she noticed with a shock that the head of every sinner in that pit was twisted in the complete opposite direction that they should have been facing, with endless tears running from their eyes to obfuscate their sight. It baffled Sweetie as much as disturbed her to witness such a thing, and it compelled her to question her guide about it. "Why are their heads on backwards, and why are they walking the wrong way?"

"The crafts which they practiced in life are an egregious distortion of God's law which states that only He may know the future, and so are their bodies similarly deformed as punishment. For attempting to pry into events yet to happen, their heads are spun round so that they may never again see what is just in front of them. As they sought to move themselves forward in time, these sinners are forever compelled to walk backwards until the end of time," Virgil responded. He gazed down at the despondent souls with a look of remorse on his timeworn face, an expression which made him look even older and seemed to imply a certain pain he felt for them. Sweetie Belle was prepared to ask about it, but the poet was quick to move deeper into the Circle, almost as if he could sense that very discussion hanging in the air and was attempting to avoid it entirely. For the moment Sweetie held her tongue, but she logged her questions for later inquiry if and when an opportunity to ask them presented itself.

At the midpoint of Fraud's collection of guilty souls, the party found themselves overlooking an immense pit of boiling tar where yet more guards were positioned around the lip of the hole, all of them armed not with whips, but vicious hooks and claws linked to the end of metal chains. Every few seconds the demons would draw their sadistic weapons and swing them down into the pit to lacerate the flesh of lowly sinners who were submerged within the steaming pitch. It seemed the prisoners received a serious lashing any time they rose from the tar, which was often because they desperately sought relief from the sludge that adhered to and scalded their bodies. Immediately following every fresh scream of pain was an uproar of blood-crazed cheers and laughter from the devils on the pit's edge. Each time the sinners came under attack they would quickly dive beneath the tar's surface, but seconds later they resurfaced to escape the horrible burning, and so the cycle of torment endlessly revolved in this fashion.

"These are the grafters," Virgil said when he and Sweetie Belle paused to observe them.

"What did they do?" Sweetie desired to know.

"They robbed others of money and substance by abusing the powers associated with their positions in business or politics," the poet said in answer. As he went on to describe the spectacle's meaning, Virgil pointed to each of the things which made this ditch unique from the others. "The tar which sticks to the damned is an analogy for the thieves' sticky fingers and for their efforts to hide their sins from notice, just as the tar hides them from sight. Do you see how the guards assault these poor creatures? As the grafters tore at everything in their grasp with a feral zealotry, so too do the demons rip their bodies with hook and claw with similar fervor."

Sweetie Belle observed the graphic scene for a few moments, involuntarily flinching at every eviscerating bite of the overseer's weapons against the flesh of the dead, and then she let her gaze drift away to the remaining road which they had yet to traverse. So many miles lay between her and salvation. As her heart started to swell with the hope of returning home, her mind was wracked by doubts and imagined fears of all the things that might happen to prevent her from leaving Hell. For a considerable time Sweetie Belle stood silent and stared off into the distance while she fought internally to establish some sort of truce between the warring factions of heart and mind. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she did not notice Virgil trying to get her attention until he stood directly in front of her, and even still it was several seconds before she actually registered his presence.

"Is something the matter?" Virgil asked.

Sweetie blinked, and then shook her head lightly. "No, everything's fine. I'm just...thinking," she said slowly.

Now Virgil was looking down the road as if he were able to divine the truth of where his companion's thoughts had been. "The end of our journey, and our time together, draws near."

"It feels like forever since I woke up in Limbo. Now that I'm so close to the end...I'm more nervous than I've ever been."

The old poet moved to kneel beside his young ward and gifted her his best reassuring smile. "You will see your home again, my child."

Sweetie Belle looked into her guide's eyes and saw all of the hope and truth reflected in them that his words strove to convey, and it made her smile in turn. All of her worries and fears seemed to fall away in that moment as if a burdensome cloak had been pulled from her shoulders, allowing the young unicorn to breathe the free air again. She nodded her head in silent thanks for so much more than the uplift in her spirits just now. Virgil resumed standing, and together they made way deeper into the Circle of Fraud, and ever closer to their final destination.