SEVEN DAYS IN HELL

CHAPTER 1 : DECESS

Every day, in the world, thousands of human beings are born and in order to maintain the natural balance, as many end their journey.

For centuries the fundamental questions that man asks are: what is there after death? Is there a sequel? After the soul runs out of time spent in the earthly world, it separates itself from the body and then reaches the afterlife? According to some studies it has been hypothesised that its weight fluctuates between 47 and 105 g, the more the soul is dense the more likely it is to end between the circles of hell. It was 1875 when a young woman who seemed to have died at the age of only 26 came to the first trial seat. She still had the soft hair that adorned her hair from the first flashes of the day, probably her funeral had happened recently. From her shoulders fell a soft white veil that folded on the corset and the edges of the dress. The vital longing had already disappeared for a couple of hours and on her arm was tattooed a series of numbers: 25 02 1875, a date that would have remained imprinted for eternity. She was alone and before her were placed four bows which candles as if she were still in the funeral chamber. Usually the dead are catalogued through the record of souls and then sent to the seat of first judgment through the river acheronte, but the situation seemed to be different. The young woman had found herself with her eyes half open hovering over soft perfumed cloths, the place that framed her had all the air to be something very similar to a cemetery. The only death of the day: his. This is quite strange because, usually, there were thousands of souls waiting for judgment. The little eyes raised two very white eyelids and wondered why he was exactly there, the muscles still looked almost completely rigor mortis and the only thing he could do was swirl two greenish and luminous irises to reach the highest part of the ceiling. A not too deep voice reached its feeble ears and instinctively she was forced to close her eyes to pretend to be still immersed in that placid eternal sleep. A cold hand touched her even more icy palms and the sound, which seemed to be subdued before, was filled with emphasis: "Is she alone?"

A more croaking voice readily answered rich with a subtle shyness:

"It seems so, my lord... but I did not accompany her. I found her lying on the banks of the river still in her funeral dress and not knowing how to behave I decided to lie her body on these cloths and wait for her orders. She's not...she hasn't woken up yet."

Concluded the low man who, soon after, took a step back away from that bed arranged. The other seemed to be taller, his speech was more difficult to reach the woman. He was standing there looking for an explanation as he touched his chin gently. The hand stopped tormenting the mysterious individual's lip and let him continue the conversation.

"It has been catalogued. It seems all in order, mh... look: 25 02 1875"

So I lift up her right arm to make sure that there was a date of her death and then resume the conversation: "And you, are you sure you didn't see this girl get on the boat?"

The old man looked up to cross the master's evil eyes, intimidated him quickly and stuttered something: "No, my lord! I assure you I have not seen anyone set foot on my vessel today".

The other, haughty, placed the girl's arm and placed it on her belly, continued to speak:

"Of course it's weird, not that I trust you too much..."

He looked at the little one with his reddish feline pupils and the accused could only hide behind a pillar of the great hall.

"M-My Lord..." bewildered the little man trying to exonerate himself somehow, only to be interrupted again by his superior.

"I know for a fact that some things can't happen. I don't think this is normal!Thousands of souls should have arrived to be sorted today, also because, the mortality threshold is still high these days. I wonder how it could have happened! To say that I am furious is very little!"

He turned around looking for the victim he'd unleashed his anger on, held his breath for a few seconds, and then he screamed like a madman:

"Charon! Come here immediately!"

"But, sir, I didn't do anything!" The frightened little man approached, trying to keep a certain distance anyway.

"Ah, well I don't care about that at all! I have to punish someone don't you think!?" The demon began to smile showing his sharp canines while Charon hummed in an attempt to deflect the interlocutor.

"Come here, I don't want to hurt you..." He continued with crazy eyes. At which, trembling, the little man lifted his head and answered, "Really?"

"Does it seem to you that your sweet and tender master, a thousand-year-old demon who has long been sovereign and judge of the souls of hell, can lie to you so blatantly?" He answered the demon ironically, but it seemed that the opposite was not a very good connoisseur of irony and sarcasm.

"I don't think so, after all you're a good owner, right? I'd better go."

Everything was broken by a demonic roar that literally rocked the plaster from the walls and violently threw itself against the foolishness of the subordinate.

"How can you be so stupid!? Move back to your seat or you'll end up in the lowest of circles!"

With a lightning bolt Charon began to run towards the small boat attached on the left bank of the acher and leaving behind a trail of terror while the demon remained to stare at the limbs of the girl noticed by now of the That he hadn't been asleep in a while.

"Hey, you, can you open your eyes..."