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    Hell Bound
    Hell Bound
    Hell Bound
    Ebook95 pages1 hour

    Hell Bound

    By Robert Wacaster

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Robert finds himself on one of the lower planes of Hell. He can't remember who he is, or how he arrived there. He somehow finds a way out, and as he goes on a journey he didn't even know he needed to make, he begins to remember his past life. Was there truly good in him? Or was he rightfully Hell Bound.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRobert Wacaster
    Release dateSep 7, 2011
    ISBN9781466315617
    Hell Bound

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      Book preview

      Hell Bound - Robert Wacaster

      Hell Bound

      written by: Robert Wacaster

      Copyright 2011 by Robert Wacaster

      Smashwords edition

      This book is a work of fiction. The characters, places and situations are all fictional. Any resemblance to any persons, or situations, living, dead, past, present, or future is purely coincidental.

      No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems without the written permission of the author, except under fair use for critical reviews, where only brief passages may be quoted, or where prohibited by law.

      Cover created by Adrienne Wilder

      Arrival

      Blackness. At first he couldn’t hear anything at all. Silence. No sound or sights seemed almost a relief. He was thirsty and hungry at the same time, and yet…he wasn’t. He hurt, and yet felt ok. Things slowly began to come into view. The world looked a bit like flames. And yet, there was no fire. Everything looked a deep red. He seemed to be lying on the ground. He sat upright and looked around him. Everything was fuzzy as he tried to remember what had happened. He could recall bars. Steel bars. He wondered where he was.

      As he sat up and looked around, he could see other figures both moving around and sitting on the ground. He felt heat from the flames around him, and yet didn’t feel heat. He seemed to be in some kind of huge room, however he couldn’t seem to find the walls. As he turned his head this way and that, when he thought he saw a wall it would just recede back into the flames. He stood up and felt his body ache.

      Guard? he called out to no one in particular. Guard, where the hell am I?

      There came no answer. The other figures moved by without even seeming to acknowledge him. The hunger pangs came again and a small table seemed to appear a few yards away. He walked towards it and saw it was covered with food. He could smell fresh cooked steak, potatoes, and freshly baked bread. He stopped for a moment and took in the smell. He was famished, but as he got to the table and reached out a hand to take some food, searing pain rushed up his arm to his shoulder. He was so hungry, but he couldn’t figure out what had burned him. He reached out again, and once again felt the searing pain. He stood there confused, looking at his hand. There was no evidence of a burn. The pain still fresh in his mind, he stood staring at the food.

      Have some, it’s fresh. a voice nearby said.

      He turned and saw a robed figure who’s face was hidden somewhere inside the hood.

      It’s delicious! the robed figure exclaimed as it reached over and plucked up a steak, Have some!

      He watched carefully. The robed figure didn’t seem to burn itself. He reached over slowly and carefully, but as soon as his hand got near the food the pain went up to his shoulder once again. He yanked back his hand, scowling at the robed figure.

      Try again. the figure mocked. I’m sure you’ll get some this time.

      Even though his hunger was almost overpowering, he turned and walked away from the table. He could hear the figure behind him calling for him to return and have some of the delicious food. He could still smell the delectable scent, as he walked away. Finally, after walking and walking but not finding a wall inside the room, he sat down on the floor. He had walked for what had seemed at least thirty minutes, however the table and robed figure seemed to still be only a few feet away. The figure still beckoned for him to come and eat. He ignored the figure and tried to remember how he had gotten where he was. The bars. There had to be a clue there. If he could just remember. The hunger made it hard to think and the smell of the food wasn’t helping either. He concentrated as hard as he could. He pushed away the deep hunger he felt and tried to think. Faces flashed through his mind. Places, bars and…and a chair. He had been strapped in a chair. Why would someone have strapped him down? Uniforms flashed across his memory.

      Do you have any last words?

      Last words, what do you want me to say? It shouldn’t have happened.

      He remembered that. It seemed recent, too. It shouldn’t have happened…what had he meant by that? He could remember saying it now, but it was hard to focus and remember anything else. Another figure sat down next to him. He looked over and saw what looked like just a skeleton. For some reason, it didn’t surprise him. The skeleton looked back at him for a minute.

      Trying to remember? it asked.

      Who the hell are you? he asked sharply. And who the hell said you could sit down near me?

      Who am I? the skeleton replied. Does it really matter who I am now? Or who I was, for that matter? We’re here now, and that’s that.

      The voice seemed almost familiar. Do I know you? he asked. Who the fuck are you?

      Do you mean who was I? the skeleton answered.

      His head almost hurt trying to remember where he knew the voice from. He didn’t recall knowing any skeletons, however in some bizarre way the skeleton looked familiar. The way it moved, the way it cocked it’s head when it spoke. He just couldn’t remember.

      You aren’t supposed to remember. the skeleton said as it got back up on it’s feet. You’re just supposed to spend eternity here doing your penance. I saw you reaching for the food, Robert. Did it hurt? Are you hungry? Is that your penance, feeling hungry?

      My penance? Robert asked. What the hell are you talking about? He stopped and thought for a minute. Yes, my name’s Robert, isn’t it? Why couldn’t I remember that before now?

      Images flashed quickly through his head. Being led down a long hallway into a room with a chair and being strapped down. Sitting in a cell while other people talked to him, a guard smacking a club against the bars telling them to be quiet. There was even a quick flash of holding a gun, of shooting someone. Everything was still fuzzy. As the skeleton got up and began walking away, a name came into Robert’s head:

      Anthony? Robert asked.

      The skeleton turned it’s head around and one eye socket seemed to wink at him. Welcome to hell, Robert.

      Hell

      Robert tried to block out the constant pain. It wasn’t excruciating or anything like that, but more like a dull, constant annoyance. Where ever he was, Robert knew he had to escape. Every once in a while he would walk around, but there seemed to be no where to go. He would walk and walk but somehow, he didn’t seem to be going anywhere. There seemed to be more…people, if you could call them that, around, but if he tried to speak to someone, they either responded with gibberish or didn’t respond at all. After what seemed like weeks, the skeleton came near him and spoke again:

      Have any regrets now?

      Regrets about what? Robert asked.

      You might as well stop looking, there isn’t any way out.

      "You said welcome to hell, what

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