Home Sweet Hell Poem by Stevie Smith

'That also has a steep drop off the far side of Home Sweet Hell' said my soulless guide as he pointed in the direction of the nearby screams.
I could see what resembled silhouettes or smeared shadows of something being thrown or tossed off the side of the tallest tower in sight.
There were so many falling at once the blur of any kind of outline in this smokey medieval lighting was impossible and began to strain my eyes.
'They're throwing bodies over the edge, a necessary task for the good of our home.' he continued as he watched me watching the horrific scene of what now was confirmed as bodies.
'They were rotting and now they will rot even faster engulfed in flames! ' he exclaimed with a smirk. 'It's quiet clever really, it serves two purposes as one form of torture while at the same time feeding the eternal damnation fires of hell. We recently have undergone new management so our productivity points have never been higher.' He seemed to wear that smirk like a proud badge as he bragged about the last part. No doubt he was most likely the new management, possibly the one who would decide my fresh new hell.
He gave a new meaning to the expression 'milky white' and had a paleness that was almost purple. Freakishly tall which wouldn't have been so bad if he wasn't as thin as a runway model-and that was putting it politely. He was dressed in a crimson velvet suit like some dapper don vampire with the chilling accessory of sharp dead eyes. He exuded terror all around while stroking my anxiety in the most uncomfortable metaphorical rhythm.
With his you-know 'devil may care' attitude he attempted to smooth out a newly noticed wrinkle in his crimson red velvet sports jacket.
'Even in Hell, one must always look their Sundays best or in the flames you go! ' he giggled laughing at his own joke. I neither laughed or even reacted, instead I ignored him and continued to watch the screaming falls.
The worker bees or drones-or whatever you're supposed to mindless underlings from hell, were now headed for a v-shape among the only body that was not tossed from the tallest tower. Instead it was hanging off a wall like a common prized Picasso at the end of the biggest hall in Hell. Or so my tour guide informed me.
The brutish beasts were poking, stabbing, biting, pulling, cutting, slapping, and slashing the hanging form. 'Go then and take her down' My Dracula impersonator whispered in my ear, making me jump at the stealthness it took him to invade my personal space. 'Go on' he urged as he moved even more closer to me. 'But-' he then said looking down the hallway 'who is to say her sin is not greater than yours? ' he asked while stroking his chin. 'In fact' he continued, 'Save her and see how quickly you will be the one to replace her. '
I found myself asking 'is her sin greater than mine? ' for she no longer even resembled a 'she' and I couldn't hide my disgust this prisoner she's appearance.
My five star tour guide squealed 'Why heavens yes! ' unable to contain it's laugher. 'She makes your sin look like childsplay! he continued to cackle while saying 'I wouldn't go bragging about your list of dirty deeds that got you here they are not that flattering. Or noteworthy really. You're lucky if you amount to anything other than flame feeder on Hell's roster.' He then very seriously added, 'but if it was not for the Simple Sinners we would have no souls to keep most of our demons from going hungry. After all we only get fed once every hundred years when we are not topside.'
I noticed the dead bodies recently just fallen into flames were starting to return slowly to our intimate greeting party. Most were empty handed or even handless, while all were naked but almost identical in the scorched rotted appearance, no sex could be identified.
'They will be joining us for the rest of our tour' Vampire Lestat informed me following my gaze. He started walking down the hall and I followed as close behind as I could while maintaining a safe distance from both sets of company.
Without looking at me, Red Velvet started saying, 'most crazies dispose of bodies because thats what they consider normal. But here in Hell, we find keeping them is productive torture. You see staying in ones body after death is unnatural and therefor uncomfortable, almost painful. So you can see why it is useful to keep souls in their meat suits. We also make them do physical labor like any good slave when the torture has become boring and is no stimulating.
I was suddenly feeling woozy and felt confident I was just as pasty white as my velvet wearing guide. I couldn't shake the disgusting smell of flesh, blood, sex, urine, and pizza from nose. In a meek whisper I muttered 'I don't like this..' My words were greeted with a smug 'Join the club Sweetheart, no one likes it here but thats the point isnt it? Welcome to your doomed end, your Home Sweet Hell. '
Tears welled up in my eyes and before they could fall to my cheek my thin velvet guide slapped me with such a unbelievable force that I felt my skull vibrating. I was shocked at the guides brute strength for such a blow and considered the possibility maybe this was a vampire. I could feel my tears start to reform and was met with another blow. This time they came with a side order of screams that said, 'NO POINT FOR TEARS NOW! YOU WERENT ACTING LIKE A LITTLE BITCH WHEN YOU SINNED TO GET HERE, SO YOU'RE NOT GOING TO ACT LIKE A LITTLE BITCH NOW THAT YOU ARE HERE.'
I had no time to protest, to react, to do anything and even if I had he was right. I knew what I was doing. My guide started pushing me while still yelling 'IT'S TIME YOU EMBRACE THAT YOU ARE IN THE PITT AND THERE IS NO MERCY! NOW ON THE CHOPPING BLOCK WITH YOU! '
He threw me in the closest room that was completely pitch black as he yelled 'FRESH MEAT' that served as our farewell.
As he made his exit with his herd of bodies, his dead eyes were the last thing to see.