The Tenth Level of Hell

By darkness_descends

In the ninth level of hell
Below the black burning flames
Carrying the cinders of human flesh
Ringing with the screams of tortured eternity
Scented with the stench of decaying souls
Where pure evil was forged
A dactyl standing 16 feet tall
With a body sculpted of obsidian
Eyes of fire
Claws of bone
Tongue like a snake
And wings of human flesh
Born with one prupose
The destruction of human kind
And to inhabit the earth under eternal darkness
Has lied dormant
In a cave of lodestone and hematite
For thousands of years
Since his last return to the surface
In preparation for bringing the end
Communicating through the minds of his servants above
He stretches his unused limbs
Extends his long arms
And with one flap of his powerful wings
Begins his ascent through the nine levels of hell
Towards the surface of earth

On the surface life carries on unaware
Humans oblivious to the impending doom
Children frolic in the forest
Under a canopy of trees
Amidst lush green grass
Splashing through crystal streams
Hiding in the brush
Playing childish games
Being tickled by the fingers of the sun
While the grown ups work
Hunting animals
For food of the meat
Clothing and blankets of the pelts
Tools and weapons of the bones
Swordsmen training every day
To protect their settlement
And care for their own

In the mountains reside the dwarves
Rough in nature
Small in stature
Large in resiliance
Making their living deep in the rock
Mining for coal, ore, and diamonds
Minding their own business
Occasionally trading for what they need
Working hard, playing harder
Taking everything they want from life
Living with vigor
Dying with pride

Meanwhile in the darkest corner of the world
Where animals won't venture
Vegetation can't grow
And all is grey and dead
The dactyl had arrived
Chosen his new home
In a cave of human skulls
With brooks of blood careening through
Where light of fires is absorbed in darkness
And warmth is hidden in heavy pressing cold
The time has come
To call forth the minions that will follow him
In bringing about the end
His armies will number in the hundreds of thousands
He opens his mouth and lets out his call
Without words that can be distinguished
A voice like an earthquake rumbles across the plains
Through the valleys and in the mountains
Calling the most fearsome and evil creatures
Goblins, gnomes, trolls, and angelic demons of hell
Fomorian giants, black mages, and sorcerers of darkness
Brought together and bound to each other
By the dactyls' threats of annihilation
Striking fear into their very hearts
By putting poctures of the torture they would have to endure
Into their feeble minds
Even the giants who stand indetical in stature to the dactyl
Cower like children confronted by a bear
They will take their time
As they become subjugated by this demon
And learn to work as one
Fight as one in brutal unity
Continuing to train until the moment of mortal weakness arrives

Deep in the heart of the forest
Lies and enchanted settlement
Made invisible by a blanket of magic
Where the elven people live
In perfect harmony with the world
Attune to nature and life
Aware of everything that happens
Protectors of the forest
Noticing every movement around them
Every change in the balance of the world
Each vibration that rumbles, however slightly, through the ground
Akin to the art of battle and grace
So sensitive to the harmon of the world around them
They sense the subtle vibrations of the minions gathering
Noticing the danger in the air
Elders gather in counsel
Recalling when last the dactyl came to the surface
Nearly succeding in wiping out existence
Discussing how best to prepare

A few visionaries travel the world
Preaching in corner taverns
Courtyards, boat docks, street corners
Back alleys, whore houses, and military training grounds
Of the future to come
The destruction of the world at the hands of a dark army
Screaming warnings from roof tops and bell towers
Praying for their voices to be heard
But instead they are labeled crazy
Drunkards and lunatics
No one pays heed to their warnings
Discarding them as drunken fabrications
And insane ramblings
Because everyone wante to believe everything is fine
That there is nothing to prepare for

Emissaries and scouts throw caution to the wind
Silently creeping around the world
Following any rumor they stumble upon
Inevitably they are all lead to the dark corner of the earth
Where their fears become reality

Back in the cave the dactyl grows stronger
Feeding on the fear of his minions
And blood spilled in training
The dark army grows stronger in number
In strength, rage, and fear
Occasionally ransacking a village
Burning small townships to the ground
Their training is almost complete
The day of reckoning rapidly approaches

Off in the towers of arcane studies
Wizzards and mages are aware of the evil approaching
Scrying for the location
Where the evil eminates
Knowing that they will have to go to war
Pulling out every trick of magic
And every elemental manipulation possible
Researching every scroll in their cache
To find every thing of use from history
Keeping a close eye on the dark army
As they begin their march
Taking one township after another
Killing men, women, and children alike
Bodies, homes, and possesions
Leaving nothing in their wake

Humans start to worry
Realizing the "drunkards" they so quickly disregarded were neither drunk nor crazy
Now they scramble to arm themselves
In a vain attempt to defend their lives
All who can hold a weapon fight valiantly but to no avail
The dark army marching on like an impenetrable wall
Sweeping across the land so swiftly

Wizzards, mages, dwarves, elves, humans, emissaries, and scouts
All band together to fight for all they hold dear
Rushing towards darkness with weapons raised
Archers perched in the trees waiting for one shot
To destroy evil
Swords, battle axes, daggers, and shields clash
Sparks flying in the air
Igniting the ground
Boiling the blood that spills
As one by one bodies drop
Missing limbs
Heads flying
Screams filling the air
Flesh being charred
Bodies burning
Landscape falling, being consumed by the flames
Sky flashing with magic flare
As wizzards and mages face black magic
Fires blaze consuming everything
Air thick with smoke
The dactyl has risen from the ninth level of hell
And now earth has become the tenth level of hell.

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2003 darkness_descends
Published on Wednesday, February 19, 2003.     Filed under: "Poetry"
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Comments on "The Tenth Level of Hell"

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  • zanewill On Saturday, February 23, 2008, zanewill (84)By person wrote:

    very gallantly gruesome & well written... 4 a long piece u held it all 2gether like a master>>>>

  • A former member wrote: I love this. I used to play MMORPGs, hehe, so I grew a liking to medieval fantasy. You write with a rare gift. please do keep it up.

  • A former member wrote: I feel as I've been there . . . you have a superb way of describing this . . . keep going it is a gret job

  • Six-Out On Wednesday, February 19, 2003, Six-Out (1435)By person wrote:

    Damn. too bad i cant tape myself clapping and post it here. that was sensational. Great job. nice to see ya again. hope to talk soon. later.

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