A Dark Age - “The Pendulum of Hades”

[Gregory]

/*
A boisterous yet saddened patron spoke of his exposure to “The Chambers of Hell” while sharing a pint and grog with his mates after work.
“Eyes were gauged out. Finger and toenails were pulled from their sockets with pliers and prongs. Whole hands feet and other personal membranes were forcefully removed while the victim watched – fully cognizant and alert. The young, the old, man, woman, and child were not safe from the sadistic atrocities including rape and sodomy.
The unholy things, to which these unworthy eyes have seen, should not have seen. I prayed that all I saw was just enough to sustain my sanity while watering the accused and swabbing out the cells. May God truly have mercy on their wretched lives.”
The man saw beheadings, dismemberments, hangings, stake-burnings, and other assorted physical and mental horrors. He was led away to bear witness to the contrary. The ‘Man’ did not know why he was chosen. The horrors described in the local taverns, hotels, and Inns by folk have proven to be simply folklore and stories for the kiddies… Until it truly happens to you, maybe, you’d know the horrors suffered upon the innocent as well as those who could truly be guilty.
~“The Pendulum of Hades”~

"Hallow" contains several short stories of the occult, science fiction, English lit, and the macabre... "Demon's Throat" is a thriller that will take you to the edge of your seat with a twist that only a woman could love - maybe a man or two as well. This story has never before been seen or released anywhere else...

“The Pendulum of Hades”
By
Gregory V. Boulware

The lips of black-robed judges appeared before him. They were whiter than the sheet of this printed page. Their lips displayed an unholy and terrible exaggeration. He saw this. His soul was spoiled…to revolution. He heard the sound of inquisitional voices. They seemed to be merged into one singular voice. He heard no more…for a time.

Fate was issuing from the lips of the black-robed men. What an expression of firmness and immovable resolution? My lord, the grotesqueness! The faces blazed with stern contempt of human nature. Fate continued, in his view, issuance from their lips. He saw them writhe with deadly locution. I shuddered to think what the man saw. The idea of delirious horror…

Can you imagine the thought of him seeing angelical form? Some of the forms having heads of flaming spectres haunted his very soul. He had hopes of receiving help. He thought of sweet rest – in the grave. What peace there must be…in the grave? The thought came to him gently.

Silence, stillness, and darkness would contain such peace.

The judges disappeared. The tall candles sank into nothingness. In a maddening stupor, the feeling of descent into the soul of Hades slowed and stopped.

He did not say if all of his consciousness was lost as he swallowed. No, even in his deepest slumber, all was not lost. In delirium, “Even in the grave, all in not lost,” he said. “Otherwise, there is no immortality for man.

In his return, from the swoon of ebbing death, to life… In returning, there are two stages one could possibly face; the sense of mental or spiritual cognoscente; the second stage, one can recall impressions of the first. “How shall we distinguish the shadows from the gulf beyond betwix those of the tomb?” Asked the man, to himself.

In his impression of first stage recall – after a long interval – will the reality truly come after swooning? He wondered within his semi-conscious mind. In glowing red-yellow coals, he recognized familiar faces. He saw much sadness. Many others would possibly or probably not see. No two sets of eyes see the same. The man pondered over the perfumed scent of a flower. “Is my brain growing feeble? Why am I bewildered with the meaning of some musical cadence, which has never before gained my attention?” These things happened, he thought. The sad visions of many faces floating in thin air.

He conjured remembrance of frequent lucid reasoning, although thoughtful endeavors and earnest struggles to regain the state of seemingly nothingness of his soul began to ebb. There have been moments of dreamed success.

Shadowy moments tell of tall figures that lifted and bore him in silence. They took him down, down, and further down with a dizzying oppression of descent. He remembered the vague horror in his heart, and an unnatural stillness. Suddenly, motionlessness, a ghastly train had outrun the tall ones who bore him. In seemed limitlessness, the descent into flatness and dampness, they paused with the weariness of their toil.

The motion returned. Then just as suddenly, there was sound as well. Sound, motion, and touch tingled his very frame. Yet, a strong desire to lapse into insensibility overcame him. The shuddering terror of the existence of thought became an earnest and endeavoring comprehension of true state returned with a sickness. A full memory of his trial, the tall men in dark robes – the judges, and their adornment of sable draperies hanging about the court, he swooned. He swooned at the sentence. His sentence. Forgetfulness of that later day plagued him an endeavored curse.

“So far, I have not opened my eyes. I felt like I was lying on my back, unstraped – unshackled,” he remembered with total recall. He extended his hand. It fell heavily upon something damp and hard. He suffered to remain for many minutes. He could only imagine where and what it could be. He longed, but dared not employ his vision. He dreaded the first glance of objects around him. It was not that he feared to look upon horrible things, but he grew aghast with the knowledge of seeing nothing. With a desperate heart, he quickly opened his eyes. His worst thoughts were confirmed. The blackness of eternal night – darkness if you will, seemed to stifle and oppress him. He quietly attempted to exercise some sense of reason. Inquisitorial proceedings reappeared in his mind. A sentence was passed. For a moment, he thought himself actually dead. What a supposition? He wondered what state of mind he was in.

“Was I remanded to a dungeon? Was I supposed to wait for the next sacrifice that would probably not take place for at least a few months?” He thought with a voiced query. “This could not be.” Victims were vehemently recruited. His dungeon, like all condemned cells, was occupied in Toledo. They had cold stone floors - and light was not readily available.

In torrents, the blood pulsed through his heart. He once again, relapsed into insensibility. He recovered. He trembled convulsively as he attempted to stand. Wildly, he thrashed his arms above all around. He thrashed the air with his arms in all directions. He took a step and hesitated. He was apprehensive with the dread of walking into the walls of his tomb. Sweat burst from his every pore. It stood upon his forehead in big cold beads. Agony and suspense grew to an intolerable length.

He took a cautious but forward step. The man stretched out his arms for the steadfastness of the prison wall. He hoped to catch a gleam – a sliver o light in his hole of darkness. It seemed, to him at least, that his fate was not the most hideous.

Continuing in his fearful stride, a thronging recollection – a thousand vague rumors of the horrors of Toledo… The dungeons there held strange and ghastly fables. These things were not discussed above a whisper. “What fearful fate awaits me?” He continued his attempt at self-brainwashing. “Will I starve to death in the subterranean hole of hell?” He thought death was not his worst fear. He wondered if death is a customary bitterness. Wondering was the only distraction allowed; left to him. With resolve, he knew death would be the unavoidable and impending result.

His hand fell upon an obstruction. It fell upon the edge of a well. The seemingly stone masonry felt cold and smooth and slimy. Distrustingly, he ascertained the dimensions of his dungeon. The slimed walls felt perfectly uniform. The knife he remembered and felt for was gone from his pocket. A coarse wrapper of serge was exchanged for his regular clothing. He had not counted on his weakness or the extent of the dungeon. The floor was moist and slippery. He staggered and stumbled and fell. His excessive fatigue induced him to remain prostrate. Sleep soon overcame him as he lay upon the stinky, dank, and slimy ground. When he awoke, he extended and outstretched his arms. Beside him was a loaf of bread and a pitcher of pungent water. With a beastly attack, he devoured the bread and swilled the water with avidity.

Soon, he resumed his tour around the jail cell. He counted fifty-two paces in his tour of the cell and then forty-eight more. All-in-all there was a hundred paces save the two to the yard included fifty yards total. The man, in his toil, could not fully ascertain the shape of the vault in which he slept. He knew the entire prison was treacherous with slime. A vague curiosity induced him to continue his search. The man wondered if his search was in vain. “What am I searching for?” There was very little hope for occupying a space of choice. He resolved to cross the entire enclosed area…over and over again. The floor was treacherous with slime.

The woolen garment he was wrapped in came lose and somehow got wrapped around him and became entangled between his legs. He stepped on the end of it and fell face first onto the nasty cold hard and slimy floor. The stinky slime and decayed fungus kept the facial skin of the man from tearing, but could not save him from dislodging several front teeth, a bloody-nose, and split lip. The tasted blood was not only from lost teeth and cut tongue. The juice of sweat mixed with slime and fungal decay splashed all over his head and face and down into his mouth. The smell of it made him puke. He also realized that his right arm fell below the floor. In gathering the strength to slightly raise his head, turning to see with a heavy eye, the edge of a large hole – a pit. The pit was of a circular design. Weighted eyes came into focus. He could see the size of it due to the light rising from below.

In his push to rise from the floor, the right hand managed to dislodge a small brick sized stone. Many seconds elapsed, as the stone plummeted into the chasm. In its descent, the stone clapped against the sides of the cavernous pit. The sound of a loud splash resounded upwards, reaching the drums of the man’s ears. The decreased echoes of the splash betwix stone and water, the man suddenly realized it could have been him. The man forcefully removed himself from the edge of the hole. He heard a door, heavy metal, open and close. The closing and opening came and went quickly. The sound descended from abuse. The light from below flashed upward allowing the man to get momentary view of his prisoners.

He clearly understood the timely accident by which he had escaped. He saw the doom prepared for him. Just a couple of inches more, he would have found himself at the bottom of the pit. The victims of direct inquisitional tyranny allowed a means of death. The direst of physical agonies offered were of hideous immoral horror. The sound of his own voice caused him to tremble. He could very well avoid what was planned for him by plunging into the abyss. His cowardice would not allow such an end. He had heard of many who suffered in various positions while facing a merciless, no sudden extinction of life at the hands of tormentors within
:(More)
http://thependulumofhades.blogspot.com/
http://voices.yahoo.com/the-pendulum-...
*/

[Gregory]

/*
"Hallow"
http://demonsthroathallow.blogspot.com/
http://www.pinterest.com/writerauthor...
>
"All Hallows Night"
http://contributor.yahoo.com/user/814...
>
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=sr_gnr_fk...
*/

[Gregory]

/*
"Underfoot"
http://thetattletaleunderfoot.blogspo...

‘FAIRMOUNT’…a sneak preview!
https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...

“Howl Of An Angel”
Exclusively on 'The Bookmarketing Network!"
“You can catch the Devil but you can’t hold him long…”
http://thebookmarketingnetwork.com/pr...
Pt. 2
"The Lock Of Satanus" (coming soon)

Is sex death?
“The Foxy Grandpa, Billy the Poet”
http://thefoxygrandpabillythepoet.blo...
“What in the hell is a girl with hips like yours doing...?”

~"Demon's Throat"~
http://demonsthroathallow.blogspot.com/
*/