《The Pits of Humanity》 Ending in Earth Things may have gone a bit far for me. Plans and chances never do seem to play out like one would like. I was hoping to be buried or at least thrown into the wilderness. For my disposal to be the Pit is messed up. I thought that I had built a repertoire with these people and to have at least some affection towards my death. *Thunk *Thunk I hear other corpses pilling up near me. The Pit A place where bodies are thrown to deny people their afterlife. The most disrespectful place to dump the dead. A human hill lies underneath me, yet no rotting smell pervades the place. I lay staring at the light shining down on my scenario. Its hilarious. My shroud tears as I start to move. Ripping it off I get my bearings straight and zone in on what to do now. This is a hill made of countless humans. Pale grey skin with dead eyes staring into space. Some clothed. Some stripped bare. The funny thing is, my skin is now grey. My name is Weylin Wylos, and I am dead. ----- "Do you have anything to say bitch? Repent a little or stay the same." *ptttttah "Eat my shit. You people knew all along. When I was searching and asking, lies. I hope your wives cheat on you and get impregnated by some diseased fucks." I spit at the guard as he acts superior. So what if I have no power? I wont respect yours!!! "Like mother like daughter huh. Its a shame. You could have been a regular person. Uselessly committing patricide for what? There is no way you actually cared." "You mean how my mother was treated under his care? What my ''father'' did to my ''mother''. No I don''t. You people were supposed to be ''neutral''. Even ''friendly''. Coworkers. Labeling rats is useless in the end...." He handles me roughly. Picking me up as he stares into my eyes. "Unlike a rat I look into the eyes of those I kill, lass. Even if it''s a psycho like you. Pretend all you want. Fucking with the patients and killing a guard are enough. Live forever in that Pit." The rage and mania fade as I enter apathy. I guess this is now my future. My name is Hana Leon, and I am dead. ----- *Thunk *Thunk Bodies continuously pile up around me as I admire my now grey skin. At least they left me my servant clothing. The most they spent on me was to make me look nice in front of others. "Ahhhhhh!!!!" *Thunk Seems like another live one. She doesn''t move after that impact. Did the same happen to me? She''s dressed in a nice uniform. Not some poor whelp or prostitute. At least as far as I know? She''s got short hair.... As well as a deeply condescending look on her face. Her body is pretty shapely as well but, I guess I shouldn''t think that way about a corpse? Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. I wait. Now, I have all the time in the world. Perhaps I can establish-.... Something? With this person. Check and see if she needs help when she comes to. Eventually the murdered woman stirs. I lean over her and stare directly into hers eyes as she opens them. "Hi." ---- "Hi" "Fuck." Who is this weirdo? Grey skinned like a corpse and-! Right. Pit and what-not. Corpses are piled up everywhere including this moving one here. "Heaven for some with certain types of ''love''." "Ignoring me?" "Do all these people have a conscious? Would be fun to mess with. Lack of reactions tho-! You are still a moving one!" "Your lack of self awareness is frightening ma''am. Still, I think you can manage just fine. Farewell." Hey! "No. You''re either ''friendly'' or ''neutral''. Help me out here. Two heads are better than one as the saying goes right?" .... He looks at me with trepidation for some reason. I must have rubbed the guy the wrong way. .... "Ahem so, ugh? We''re in the Pit. A type of hell, no?" "A physical hell. Where death is impossible. The stories may have some merit. As this is proven." The man lifts his pale grey arm and dangles it in front of his face. We look at each other and the hill underneath. Fuck. This is bad. A feeling of being trapped eats into my head. No!!! I look up and see more carcases cascade. The light reaching down. Things start to feel real. "Lets review some stories. Things related to the Pit. It''ll pass a little time here." He starts talking but I ignore that drivel. Using my nails to dig into my scalp.... I bite my lip hard yet no blood draws. "Deep in the woods lies a hermit. He lived a lonely life closed off from the world. Not one knew him or cared for him. All of his family died many years ago, scarring his mind. He lived in a desolate environment that required constant effort. His meals, rest, activities. All planned. Chances are a deadly thing when you''re alone. Yet his mind did not heal from this environment. His mind constantly ripping and hurting itself. He would break down occasionally and cry. His love for family had died and rots away from him. Truly a sad thing." The man starts recounting an unfamiliar tale to me. Yet it gives me a focus. "It could be said that he died with his last remaining family member. Isolating himself out of fear. Of death. Of love. Hurting himself in a perpetual cycle of despair. Until, A cry heralded out by an unknown. If he were totally ''dead'' he would have ignored this, perhaps not even processing it since it''s irrelevant. However, curiosity got the better of him. He directed himself to the source and found a young boy and a boar. Using a tree to outmaneuver the beast, yet unable to lose the boar, the young man fould only hope for it to give up. The man seeing a moment of heroism took out his hatchet and struck at the boar until it stopped moving." He approached the boy with no words. Having not spoken in years had left them in his past. Mute. The boy trying to engage in conversation, caught on quickly. He followed the man afterwards and tried to engage. The man was frustrated. Annoyed. Not because he lost his words. The boy looked familiar. A whole plethora of emotions and light heartedness. Something he lost. Gazing upon his past. An abyss of memory. He killed himself. In front of the young boy''s eyes. He fell into the pit." .... "Lovely story. Think that guy might be in the pile here?" I say that in a joking manner but, every story of someone falling in.... Can''t be. "Well it is a folk story. The Pit isn''t in some forest. Unless it can open underneath anyone''s feet. The ending is a bit abstract so there could be more to it... Could be interpreted that he had already fallen from the beginning? The whole story in the mind of an undying husk?" The man pokes at a corpse''s cheek pushing it''s head to the side. Well at least in my hell, I''m not alone. Stories of The Pit "I should introduce myself. Weylin Wylos. A corpse that fell not too long before you. At least in my perspective?" This lady seems a bit more calm. The atmosphere she exudes at any given time is palpable. Even this current peace she exudes is heavy. "Hana. Not too much to tell about myself. So we''re introduced. Now what?" She looks at me unwaveringly. Hmm.... If there was something to work towards I would come up with some suggestions. *thunk *thunk *thunk In the span of a few bodies falling I go back to the last subject in my head. Stories. I don''t think I''m comfortable with sharing my past here. So. "Well you get to go on about your folk tale so let me have a go. See if you know this one." I nod as she begins... "Ahem, Children should never speak to adults. A mind that is fully developed is nothing but pitiful. Useless worries and anxieties are a pox to innocence. Fun! Laughter! It all slowly fades in value as you age and become aware." This story is from a different perspective? She''s acting? "Worry all you want. Work your life away. I''ll never conform to the masses. Never..... How do I live then? Heh~! Let me elaborate! I look at the stars while I sleep. The sky is full of ebs and flows of dreams. Beautiful sparkling jewels of unfathomable fortune. Living in my most precious cloth, I wake up to the world as the birds start chirping. Nature''s precious and ignoring it is a waste for the soul. Receiving splendid meals from angels and absorbing the sun in my free time. Playing with other children. Singing away evil. The damned adults! They come in and tell us we can''t live there. We children belong to humanity! Well. This is all a delusion in reality friends. A Diseased vagrant who didn''t belong. Along with you my friend. I shall see you in the Pit. Hahahhahhahahha! Hahaha. Ha----." She flopped down at the end. *clap clap clap *thunk She did a hard swap of emotion. From an appeal of sharing kindness to a lamentable madman. "Heh! Did you happen to catch on in the middle? First time I heard the story it was so quick and abrupt i couldn''t catch it. The speaker was a homeless ''child''. Hilarious!" This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Delusion. A weak mental defense. Pack enough of it together and it can be strong though. I can see that Hana has a knack for acting. Something very important to note. Well maybe not so much in this world..... "Where did you hear that story? Seems like a tiny play in a way." "The homeless of my city like stories that break expectations by building them really quickly and then shattering them. Of course re-hearing the story gives it a different atmosphere too." "Interesting source.... Well lets go along with that." "Turns? Why not." I have a story in mind. Something that nobles spread among themselves. "The moon was particularly white on a cold night. A paleness never before observed. Unreal. Ethereal and Evil. For a witch was born from Sin. A Sin that cursed the whole Night. The dead rose for a dance as the cold ate the life of mortals. Even as day came, a lingering chill was left on the world. Every year the moon would again, pale and freeze. As growth made a child of Sin into an adult. Calamity would await. Priests and Kings would have nightmares of a smiling moon. A pale faced toothy grin that would awaken them in shivers. The world called for a death. This Sin could not be allowed to persist. Fire. It had to be fire that humanity needed. The religious and fearful flocked to the flame. Every town would constantly burn a pyre. Expanding it during the winter, letting it simmer during summer. Yet still. One day a year a chill would envelop the world. Death of everything. Could not be permitted. An inquisition of flame took the desolate world in search. To end the cold. Then it was found. A young woman of pure white. As if all colors were removed. Not one being could approach this witch. Frost ate them all. Fire can never beat the inevitable. The whole world would burn, for it to be frozen in the end. Why did this happen? What god or devil had desecrated humanity with this hell? Would this witch ever let up? One man. Having lost his daughter to the cold lost his sanity. Rage. On the night of the white moon. Carrying no cold protection or fire. He was able to approach the witch. He asked her. ''Why did you do this to the world? What have we done to offend you? My daughter... Why!?!?" ''I''m just so cold... So cold...'' A nothingness. Out of a pure rage. A true rage. He tackled the Witch of Frost. And they fell into the Pit. Where they both belong." .... "Your stories have no bit of humor to them. I need something a bit more uplifting." "Well I don''t have any good stories related to this place. Still it''s something with a bit of history. White Moons did exist. Historical records of this say they happened every year for about two decades. I would like to search for this Witch of Frost but, that seems a bit difficult." A huge quantity of corpses lie here. I can''t even begin to estimate. Presumably even more lie outside of vision..... "So why don''t we explore a bit. Not like eternity is running out or anything. We could even make it a hobby." She stands up and steps on the faces of the dead. The things that are obscured will remain that way. The darkness is thickens quickly just slight distances away... Unless by feeling, I don''t see how we are supposed to progress into that fog. She dangles her hand in front of my face limply. "Since you''re so hesitant, I''ll lead. Mr Wylos." "We are just going to walk into the dark then?" "Well, there''s no other way about it. Watching corpses fall for forever? Nope. ''We''re leaving.''" She says that last bit oddly. "Lead the way partner." She smiles and drags me with her. I''m a little unsure of this Hana. Yet descending into his pit of darkness with her feels more right than serving ever did. No room for the fakeness of reality. Lineage. Bloodlines. It makes me wish that I was just born into his hell to begin with. Still, I wish my lady a happy life. With me out of the equation.... It''s just right. Let''s fall further into this pit. Into the Dark I yank Weylin''s arm while trudging over grey corpses. As much as staying here forever might not be the worst idea I want to move on. Some of their eyes follow us but, that''s as much as I get. I make sure to step on the faces of them as I want. These people are all worthless. Wasting away for eternity like fossilized shit. Weylin is doing the opposite as I have to force him to my pace. The light starts to gradually fade as we get further and further from the source of light. That sky that is way too out of reach. Not like people can be retrieved? I don''t think so anyway. Eventually my face stomping antics have to end as we start to walk in the dark carefully. A few minutes later... I smile! "Huh? What? Why did you let go?" I start running~! Fuck this guy! Weylin Wylos. Well, I don''t plan on actually losing him. Just to make him panic a little! "Hey! What are you doing! Hey! Wait...." I lay down on another body and hide. Quiet. *tunk *tunk I hear the sound of his feet along with the ruffling of clothes? He''s moving. I thought he would''ve wallowed a bit before eventually getting a move on. I''m not oblivious to the implications of the two of us being the only ''living corpses'' here. A man and woman? Pfftt. I won''t fall into some mediocre role like that. Still I will follow a bit back. Being alone is the worst thing in the world. Even at the Asylum... Well. "''The Songbird in the Cage''. In an Old Kingdom, long lost to the waves of time, there was a noble family. One of great prestige and wealth. Yet within that family lied a sickly daughter. She would fall Ill easily and could not eat what most could. She had adverse reactions to many different things. A horrifying existence that drowned her family in guilt for having created her. So they built her a detached tower. Still the daughter did not want to be alone. She begged them to have it built in the city. Wrecked by guilt the family agreed." Weylin begins talking to himself. Or perhaps he has an inkling that I''m following him? Loves his stories doesn''t he? "Thus a tower sprung up in the place of an old clock tower, well more like remodeled. The daughter having a place of safety decided that even if she could not be with others, she would still express herself. Her passion, singing. Every night from then on she would sing a few songs. They carried over the city in waves. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Many people living mundane and draining lives perked up. Including a certain warehouse worker. He had no meaning. His appearance was wretched, vile. His mind simple and feeble. His parents did not pass anything beneficial to him. His physical ability was all he had. After drowning in meaningless toils alone. For a long time, he twisted. Until the old clocktower was changed. Trying to sleep, the wrenched Maggot tossed and turned until he heard a voice break his violent silence. Soft melodies carried him off to sleep. For the first time since he died inside. A lonely birdsong for a lonely Maggot. In an unchanging world this Maggot found solace in her songs. A love began to fester in him. He found his desire. Yet the world is cruel. He found out that the singing came from a sick noblewoman. He researched about her. Rumors. Servants who worked for the family. Even a few doctors were investigated by the worker. Satisfied. She belonged to the world, up in that tower. His twisted self was rushed with happiness as he realized that no man would have her. He could live in a delusion. For years he did. Until a miracle happened. With no warning he received breaking news. The Songbird of the city was cured. At first the Maggot was delighted. His delusions. They had a chance. Yet a warehouse worker like him could not easily engage those above. He had to explain how she changed his world. Express himself like she had done. Effort led to nothing. He couldn''t reach her. Rather he had never reached for her while she suffered. A Doctor agonized over the young noblewoman. For years he studied foreign medicine. researched. experimented. The miracle was manmade. With that miracle was a fresh love. Between the Songbird and the Doctor. They married. The Maggot drowned in a great pain. Hatred. Madness. A never to be, love. The Songbird was with child. For months she and the Doctor were in the heights of their life. Unaware of the festering. The Maggot twisted too much. He broke in the end. Driven by Mania, he snuck into their home. With a knife he slew his... Enemy. Shocked and filled with terror, the Songbird was paralyzed. Why is her life so cruel to her? Who is this, this Maggot!?! The maggot was nervous, she was finally before him! He expressed his love, he told her everything. His whole life. How she saved him. He who would be forever alone. The songbird did not react. How could she. What is this? Reality. Started to settle into itself for the Maggot. He had murdered her husband. Leaving the mother and unborn with no husband and father. Taking the knife out of the Doctor, the Maggot plunged it into his throat. As he collapsed his last vision of the Songbird. Even more horror drawn on her face. This vision gave a final solace to the Maggot." This is pretty fucked. Weylin seems to like his tragedy. It makes even someone who worked at an Asylum feel depressed. The world is at fault for birthing some into itself. Can that apply to a lot of people? Should the blame be entirely on the Maggot. A murderer who is psychotic? His parents? The city? The Doctor, or even the Songbird herself? "The Songbird twisted and broke. This sickening darkness that lay before her broke because of her. The Doctor Died because of her. Even her Unborn, would die because of her. For she took the knife out of the Maggot and plunged it into her own throat. .... Four have died, and two of those Lie in the Pit." I give up my charade and clap at the end. Telling a story like that is just evil. It ruins moods. A very human story. "Thought so. An actor through and through. Still, can you not do things like that? It''s upsetting." "What do you mean? Perhaps I had enough of your awful stories and thought being alone would be better?" "You gave that up when you started clapping at my story. Oh, this one actually happened as well." I walk towards his location. I start handling him until his wrist lies in my hand. that was a fun little distraction. Might be hard to do to much more to this guy. Seems like he has caught on. "Onwards Partner?" I ask with a grin he can''t see. "Yes. No more of those games like I said. Unless you actually want to part ways." Perhaps I should be more subtle. Push and pull at this guys strings. "Yep~! No more games!" "I''m not even going to accept that promise. Perhaps this is actual Hell." Rude! How can I be anyone''s Hell!