Beardedtroll

I was having a drink out at Abandon the other day, you know, that pub out by the crossroads. I was sitting by one of the windows, the one with the red neon-light in it, just nursing my blues with some gin, when I noticed this guy over by the bar who was staring over at me. I just ignored him at first, but he kept looking my way with this far-away look, so I was about to say something to him, just ask him what was wrong, but he spoke before I got a chance to.

"Dante was wrong, you know." he said, just out of the blue like that,

I said "Huh?" and then I said "I don't think I know what you're talking about."

"The sign." he said and made a gesture to the glowing red sign in the window. "It's instruction, not a warning."

I turned and looked at the sign again. It was a bit difficult to read what it said, because it's made to be read from the outside, so I had to read it sort of mirrored. "'Lasciati ogni speranza, voi ch'entrate.' That's Latin, isn't it?" I asked and looked back at the stranger.

"Close. It's Italian. It's a line from the Divine Comedy by Dante. It means 'Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.' According to Dante those words are inscribed on the gates of Hell." He smirked a bit when he said that, as if it was some kind of private joke or something.

I remembered now -- we'd read a chapter or two of that thing in high-school. Something about a poet travelling to hell inside a volcano or something. "You said he was wrong." I pointed out, getting a little intrigued by the story. It was fun to know what the sign meant and I thought it was rather clever since the bar's named "Abandon" and all.

"Imprecise, at least." the man said and shrugged, "The original inscription is in Hebrew. Dante must have messed up the translation."

"Oh yeah?" I said, "So what should it really be?"

"'Abandon hope, all ye who seek entrance here.'" he said and paused to drink some coffee.

I thought about that, but to me it just sounded like he was saying the same thing. "I don't get it. What's the difference?"

"Dante thought it was an admonishment -- warning people that once they entered hell there was no more hope for them. It's actually instructions of how to enter hell."

"So... you mean, that to be able to go into hell you must first stop hoping?"

"That's about the sum of it."

I thought about it, and it did make a sort of weird sense. "That's a pretty nifty way of looking at it, but where did you find the Hebrew version?"

He replied with a smile that was razor thin. "On the gates of Hell."

I had to laugh -- his delivery of that line was just so perfect. "Oh yeah, of course. What were you doing there anyway?"

He gave me a sour look, as if I'd just asked a really stupid question. "I was trying to find a way inside."

There was something in the way he said that that just took all the fun out of me, and I realized I probably shouldn't be prying. But you know me, never can let a sleeping dog lie.

"What for? I mean, why would anyone want to go to hell?"

He made the tiniest shake of his head, as if that wasn't really what was talking about. "I want to stop hoping. Without hope, hell's as good place to be as any other." he told me and took a long sip of his coffee.

There was some sort of twisted logic to what he was saying, but I couldn't quite make heads or tail of it. "I really don't get it. Why would you want to give up hope? I mean, hope is ... damned, it's ..." I sort of trailed off, trying to think of the right word, but he interrupted me.

"Torture." he said, just sort of adding it to what I'd been saying. "Hope is torture. When your hope never can be, never will be, never shall be allowed, hope is the worst cruelty God ever committed." He was saying all this in a very calm voice, but he was gripping his cup so hard with his left hand that I half expected it to shatter from the force.

"Man... That's tough." I said, because I sort of knew what he was getting at. After Sandra died there was a lot of times when I would realize that I was sitting there hoping that she would walk in the door or that she would be sleeping next to me when I woke up in the morning and stuff like that, even though I knew she was dead. That used to tear me up real bad on the inside, and I got a feeling that this guy had it a lot worse than I ever did.

He nodded mutely and did this whole conscious relaxing thing. You know, when you can see that the guy is deliberately relaxing his shoulders, then his hands and his arms and starts breathing more slowly. After a bit he said "Yes, it is." and finished drinking his coffee.

I didn't say anything for a bit, but you know how I am when I've gotten curious about something, and I was pretty curious about this guy by now. "So what's it you want to stop hoping for?"

He didn't reply right away, just stared into his empty coffee cup the way some people stare into their drinks when they're trying to drink themselves away from something. Then he put the cup down and looked up at me with this really cold, mocking smile and said "Redemption and the grace of God. What else is there?"

I know I didn't really have any right to pry or anything, but I still got a little annoyed at being brushed off with a stupid answer like that. It had been a straight question and if he didn't want to answer it he could just have told me off. So I said, just a little aggressively "Oh yeah? I was always taught that God would forgive anything if you really repented."

He put on his jacket with an empty chuckle and said "Not everything. There's one sin that bastard doesn't forgive."

"Yeah? What's that then?"

"Pride." he replied with a small shrug, as if it wasn't really important, and then he added "The very first one."

I didn't really know what to say to that and the guy seemed to have a answer to everything anyway, so I didn't say anything. When I didn't reply, he gave me a thin smile and walked to the door, dragging his left leg a little. He opened the door and looked back over his shoulder, gave me a nod and said "See you in hell."

I was going to reply with "I hope not." but after all that about he'd said about hope, I thought it was best not to, so I just nodded slightly and said "Maybe."

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Tau_Worlock

Looks ok. So who is the stranger? I found that there are too many open questions about him but I guess that that was intentional. I’m not sure if this is supposed to be funny but this part nearly made me laugh out loud.

Quote:

I thought about it, and it did make a sort of weird sense. "That's a pretty nifty way of looking at it, but where did you find the Hebrew version?" He replied with a smile that was razor thin. "On the gates of Hell." I had to laugh -- his delivery of that line was just so perfect. "Oh yeah, of course. What were you doing there anyway?" He gave me a sour look, as if I'd just asked a really stupid question. "I was trying to find a way inside."

I’m not sure of the ending. Either there will be more or this is all. Either way I fund it a bit how should I pot this unconclusive (is that a word?). all in all I would say well done.

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"Does the walker choose the path, or the path the walker?" The Book of the Dead
The Story Chapter 1 to 4 , Chapter 6 and 7
Other work: Fragments of a shattered mind, Of Flame and Ash, Voiceless, Remembering the unbelievable, He
Due to events outside my control I will no longer be able to come here. Sorry for the inconvenience.
I can be found at Original Writings ~ The Literates Asylum.

Beardedtroll

Thanks for the comments. Yes, stranger is left unnamed by intention, although there are some subtle clues to his identity. Let's just say that location of the meeting is not insignificant.

Ah, yes. Endings. The bane of my existance. They'll be the end of me, I tell you. (Yes, my puns are dry as tinder and worse than my endings.) I always seem to trail off on a half-note with a sentence that prods gently at the door but doesn't really close it.

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