Another Level of Dante’s Inferno
Rebecca Scott

As we descended into the 5th level of hell for those of shallowness and fakeness, a gust of heat overwhelmed me. The sweat began to seep through my pores, and my vision became blurred as the salty sweat burned my eyes. After a few moments, a shadowy image came towards me. I was unable to distinguish its form until it appeared mere steps from me. As it grew more into focus, the figure of a man emerged. His eyes rolled back in his head, and his tongue hung from his mouth. The sand caked to his cheeks slowly tricked down his neck with each inward panting breath. “Are you really there? Can I touch you?” he said before returning to his wheezing gasps for air. Seeing how much it pained him to speak, I quickly responded to his inquiry. “Yes if it will lessen your suffering tortured soul.” His fragile hand extended towards me. My heart began to race as sweat began to flow much more profusely from my brow. With his finger inches from me, a snap of a whip sent him quickly to the sandy basin. Startled, I jerked my head up to determine the source of the sound, for the first time catching a glimpse of my surroundings. For miles all I could see was a vast land of desert inhabited by creatures that appeared human but who were animal like in their gait and mannerisms. Some hovered alone as if overcome by insanity.

A beam of light caught my eye and I began to cower from its radiance. As the light passed, I looked forward to see a mirror that I had failed to see before. I inspected the image and in it I could see myself. It appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary mirror. Interrupting my thoughts, the creature that was shot down at my feet slowly began to rise, taking the position of a priest in worship at an altar. As my attention turned back to the mirror’s reflection I was alarmed to see he was not in it.

He slowly stood upright and retraced his steps. As he turned to leave, he saw the mirror but merely passed through it like a ghost. Alarmed at this encounter, I looked around only to see the vast horizon covered by mirrors with which there were no reflections of the animal-like figures. Not even the footsteps could be seen in the reflection; just empty desert lands leading me to believe there never really was anyone there.

“What is this place?” I said turning to Virgil for the first time since arriving in the circle. “These people know nothing but outward appearance. Some are driven mad without the sight of their own face. Nothing you see here is real, because the only thing real in a human is absent in these souls.”

Speechless, I slowly averted my eyes to a man crawling desperately to a crystal lake I perceived far in the distance. I watched as he slowly made his way to the edge of its waters. When he reached it, he stuck his hand in. But to my surprise, when he reached his mouth, grains of sand poured from his fingers. He stuffed it in by the handfuls. His eyes turned red with madness with each glinting scoop.

Appalled by this scene, I turned to Virgil who was staring off in the distance. I traced his line of sight with my eyes just in time to see what I thought was an angel descended from heaven. She was beautiful. Her long legs and slim figure moved like the wind. She had piercing eyes that looked but could not see and an entrancing smile absent of feeling. She spoke enchanting words that had no meaning. Her cheeks flushed red as her arms recoiled with the whip like the smooth movements of a snake. I leaped to grasp her glistening jewelry of shimmering gold but as I caressed her face it began to turn black. Her body turned to ash and her kind face transformed into the mirror image of the devil. From the crumbles arose a beast of enormous proportion. Saliva dripped from its fangs and dark hair grew from its eyes and the hump that arose from its back. Its fingernails grew long and green; appearing to curl up and move toward my throat. Virgil grabbed my hand and demanded we move on. I was caught in a trace and could not remove my gaze from its evil dark stare. I could see my reflection in the beast’s beady eyes. Was I merely staring at the face of shallowness or was I confronting my own shallowness? I could see in its eyes this creature was none other than a demon from the devil himself.

“You can not trust what you see here; for as I have said before nothing is as it seems. That creature of beauty represents the trait of shallowness and fakeness that the people here exhibit. For it is she that cracks the whip that keeps the souls here on their knees and allows them no more to experience what it feels like to know ones self by outer looks and life by tangible evidence.”

At this Virgil extended his hand and we walked the dark path to the next level of hell.

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