Lust (The First Circle)

I was wrong.

The first trial, or circle, had been my family being murdered, except it didn't really count as the sins, so it was more like Circle 0. This black figure standing in a lightly less dark doorway had just said that to me.
"Do you know what the seven circles of Hell are?" He asked, a grin so clear in his accent-less tone it made me want to vomit again.
"Lust, Gluttony, Envy, Greed, sloth....I don't know the rest." I said, my throat stinging with each word.
"Oh Cecila... What do they teach you in school?" He scolded, before continuing on," You're parents also failed in educating you in the words of the Lord. Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy, and Pride."

I turned my head away, my brain swimming in confusion and pulsing in pain from where I'd struck my skull on my homes wooden floor.
He kept talking though, seemingly unaware or uncaring of my obvious disinterest in his explanation. He was obviously a psychopath.
"People now a days tend to ignore the Seven Deadly Sins. It's quite sad really, to know so many people of today's world will rot in hell. Except for you! No not you, because I'm going to save you!" He said, the last part said in such a ridiculously eager tone I almost laughed.
"Save me? You've condemned me already! YOU MURDERED MY FAMILY." I said, sitting up to scream the last part in his face and spit a wad of acid filled phlegm at him.
I missed, by quite a bit, but he tipped his head to the side instead of retaliating in disgust.
"You skipped the first four sins. How odd. Well, it doesn't matter, we'll go in order eventually." He mused, turning and strolling out of the room.

The door slammed shut and I got up to run after him, even try and catch it before it locked..
My feet flew out from under me, and I fell to the floor. I barely caught my head before it could crack into the floor (and probably give me a double concussion). 

I screamed in frustration, banging my feet on the floor and throwing a hissy fit. I shrieked how he'd better let me out because the police were probably looking for me and if he let me out he'd get a lighter prison sentence. Eventually, after what felt like hours, I stopped my screaming and my threats and such. He obviously wasn't listening, so my whole tantrum was of no use other than a waste of breath and energy I'd probably need later. There was no way he was just going to keep my locked in here to starve to death, no. The psychopath probably had more torture plans brewing in his fucked up mind. I'd have to endure more pain and disgust and trauma, because I had to live to get this fucker locked away.

I turned my back to the door, tears welling up but I didn't want to cry. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was breaking me.
"Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy, and Pride." I murmured, more to myself than anything.
I sighed, unable to recall anything about the sins other than their association with the bible and how each sin was a very natural and human thing to feel. I don't know if I believed in God, and I'm still not fully sure now. Still, if there is a God, I don't doubt the bible when it says He made us in his image and then sought to destroy us because we were his biggest mistakes. That man was a mistake, horrible and fucked up by a religion too many people consider loving and caring. Christianity, just like any other religion when taken to an extreme level of devotion, can be extremely damaging and dangerous to a person, whether they are a child or adult. That monster was probably molded into what he was from an infant. Besides the point, I hope he rots in the hell he tried to save me from.

Ha. Save. He thinks by kidnapping me and keeping me locked in a dark room is somehow going to save me? He truly is insane, no doubt about it. I've repeated myself too many times, sitting in this dim place, alone and soiled. Repetition was my comfort zone, the place I retreated too when things got tough. 

There was no repetition here, no clock to tell time which meant no counting 60 seconds for 60 minutes for 24 hours, or however long I could stay awake. I had no windows and the only light came from a light bulb so old I'm pretty sure it was from the 1900's or something. The 'light bulb' gave nothing except dim outlines of more....bareness. 
Four corners, no bed, no blanket, no toilet or even a bucket. The only things were the drain in the center of the room, those sprinklers on the ceiling, and the places the chains disappeared into the wall.

I felt disgusting, mostly because I couldn't tell how long it'd been since my last shower, though I estimated at least 3 days. My clothe's, thin and made for summer, did nothing to protect me from the cold of the concrete room. I stood up, immediately regretting as pain flooded my brain, centered around my bladder.
"I have to pee!" I yelled, jumping a little bit as I squeezed my muscles so I didn't piss myself right there,in my only pair of pants.
I was relatively surprised when I heard a voice, but such emotion died when I processed what he'd said.
"Pee then."
I knew he meant down the drain, but it still confused me. I didn't have toilet paper either and girls needed toilet paper, or at least I did.
Regardless, it was going to be too long of a wait if he decided I deserved toilet paper. So, I sucked it up and pulled my pants down, settling down into a squat. Euphoria was the best explanation of how I felt after holding that much pee for so long. The euphoria only lasted about 5 seconds after I was done though, and in its place flooded a mix of disgust and confusion. What did I do now? This wasn't like when the toilet paper ran out in your house and you had to call for someone to bring you more or waddle awkwardly to the nearest closet or cabinet to get a new roll.
"Can you please bring me toilet paper!?" I yelled, unsure if he'd be able to hear me. Still, I heard no response, no footsteps or evidence I was getting any sort of paper to wipe myself with.
So I shook my butt a little, trying to get the wetness to be pushed to the back of my mind as I stood up feeling disgusting and sticky. Wind blew a couple of strands of my hair forward, which I proceeded to put back into their places. I didn't think much of a breeze, because there was probably a crack or something somewhere in this place. I knew I wasn't just a solitary concrete box in the middle of nowhere, at least I was pretty sure I wasn't.

At the same time, though, I was desperately hoping I was the only one here. Not even just so another person didn't have to go through what I was going through, or had gone through, but because when I got out I didn't want to find someone and lose my chance of escape by helping them.
"Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy, and Pride." I murmured, trying to get them all down to memory. Some of them I didn't remember the definitions too, Sloth especially. Most of the others were pretty easy to understand, though Gluttony and Greed were pretty much synonyms to me.
The wind blew a bit harder, make me shiver and drawing my attention to the door. It was a cold wind, slowly getting strong as the seconds passed. I didn't even know what to expect, which is glaringly obvious. I didn't know the punishments for each of the sins either, mostly because I didn't even consider them sins so I didn't think to realize they had punishments.

The door started to creak and shudder against its shutter and handle. I tried to get out of its way but if I went too far one of the chains would pull taught in the middle of the doors inevitable path, meaning I'd be violently yanked anyway. I groaned just as the handle on the door gave out and this huge fucking slab of wood came hurtling at me. I scrambled out of the way, not even thinking until it caught one of the chains and whipped me, quite painfully, as for back as it was allowed.
I had dodged the door with relative success, but there was no missing or hiding from the wind that pounded into the room. My eyes burned painfully at the onslaught of cold wind, my hair whipping back so suddenly and with such violence it felt as if I was being scalped.

I was tossed back, my body weight too light to even be a burden to the strength of this wind. It smashed the light bulb against the ceiling and rained pieces down on me. They buried themselves into my arms and legs, which was because I'd curled into a ball to protect myself but the wind only picked up speed and dug them deeper into my skin. Blood was dripping only to blown into my eyes, hair, and clothes.
I screamed, unable to hear the sound over the screams of the wind. The wind that was shrieking...my name?
"Mom!?" I called, trying to crawl forward to where the wind was busting through the open doorway. That was definitely my moms voice screaming my name. I needed to see her, I had to save her. The monster had her armless torso between his legs and he was going to tear her fucking head off. I had to-

Splat!

Something sticky and cold hit me in the face. Then more stuff hit near me.I looked up just as a flash of a wall of fire lit up the room.

Blood. Bloody chunks. Eyeballs. Tongues. Teeth. Hair. All colors and shapes but so much red.

I started screaming, covered in the blood and the pieces of strangers as a column of fire surged up in the doorway. I lost what grip I had on the drain in the floor and flew into a pile of goop. It had to be human. There was no way it wasn't.
Bits of bone dug into my backside, threatening to puncture my skin.
The heat made a smell so disgusting I could've thrown up again if I had anything in me. It was a stench that explained itself; half cooked meat that was probably beginning to rot just before it was tossed in here. Putrid heat of singed hair, flaked blood, and half hot meat that was a perfect home for bacteria. IT was so terribly overwhelming to me, but it didn't overpower my need to escape, didn't send me spiraling quite into an insane abyss where I could imagine a nice family of bacteria moving into a slab of meat to live their days off in warm, bloody happiness. At least, not at that very moment it didn't.
I scrambled to stand up, tears rushing down my blood covered cheeks. 

Brown. Red. Brown. Red. So much red.
My skin was covered in the lives of god knows how many people. 

The fire blazed higher,angrier as the flames reached for me. My food starved and traumatized brain proceeded to react in a really violent way.
It released a ton of adrenaline and threw me towards the fire.
A primal scream rose in my throat as my body fought against the wind and I threw myself into the wall of flame.
For a fleeting moment the smart, higher part of my brain brought forward the image of me being yanked to a standstill and burning alive thanks to those chains around my ankles and wrists, but instead I flew right through the column of fire.
I burst into a stupidly bright hallway, my eyebrows, eyelashes, and hair smoking and singed. I had holes spotting my clothes. but the fire had also burned my wounds mostly shut. That didn't really help with the fact I still had glass buried in my arms and legs.
I blinked, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the brightness and my mind to catch up to my body when I heard that scream again.

Mom.

I ran, the released chains clinking behind me as I flew towards a door at the end of the room. I yanked it open, throwing myself into the room.

I tossed myself right into a wall of Plexiglas.

It was one of the sharper pains I've felt, like a really hard slap across your entire body and it was almost funny. I'd even left a bloody outline of where I'd run headfirst into the fucking wall of plastic glass.
The door slammed shut behind me and the screaming stopped.
"Mom!? MOM!" I shouted, trying to stand up but only succeeding in struggling like a snail having salt poured on its body by a sadistic kid.
"Mommy..." I groaned, giving up with a sob. I could feel the most awful burn inside my muscles, and every single inch of my skin felt like I had a really bad sunburn. My mind felt like mush in my skull, but the tears had stopped. Though that was because I'd run out of water to waste on them.
I slept, passed out, collapsed; choose your synonym. All I know is I let myself shut down from one nightmare into the next.

The gore of that room stuck deeper than just to my skin, as it should've. Still, it didn't mean my brain had to think as deeply into it as it did.
My nightmares started off with him shredding people I didn't know. Women, men, children. Eyeballs plucked out, tongues removed,and teeth yanked before the bodies were thrown into an industrial wood chipper.
Then I saw my mother, eyeless, her mouth missing it's tongue and teeth. She wasn't alive but the machines screams of effort at tearing her apart were identical to how my mother had been screaming. My father was tossed into the stupid machine in the same fashion, and the screams were just like with my mother; they sounded like how he'd begged for his life.
Next, the final part of the dream, was Alex. He had all his body parts and he calmly walked into the room. He looked into my eyes and a look of utter disappointment dominated his features.
"It should be you that's dead." He said, then he just crawled into the machines like it was nothing.

No machines sounds. No screams. Just silence.

It went black for a while after that. I'm glad it did, because I'm pretty sure my screams made up for the lack of my brothers.
The next one was just as bad as the first because it almost made sense.

I was walking in the desert, thirsty and stumbling and looking for water. Even if I had to tear open a cactus bare-handed  would've, which is how thirsty I felt. I went over the last dune and at the bottom sat a picture perfect oasis. It may have been the prettiest thing I'd ever seen because I proceeded to just toss myself to the ground and slide down the stupidly hot sand dune. It burned my skin but I couldn't be bothered by something so unimportant when my salvation lay in front of me.
I threw myself into the water, cool and heavy, making my movements slow. I went back up, breaking the surface and shoveling handfuls of water into my mouth. The water didn't turn to blood, like I almost expected it to now that I think back on it. No, instead I was violently dragged out of the water by a man in a large cloak, his whole figure a silhouette in midday sunlight. 
That man.
He held me without even moving from my struggles, and the last person I expected stepped out from behind his immense figure. 
My sister. Her eyes were cold and accusing, pointed right at my fact.
"Your sins destroyed our life, little sister. I hope you rot in Hell for the rest of eternity." She whispered, having the man hold my arm out.
She moved so fast it seriously freaked me out. She shoved her fingers into my mouth, forcing them as far down my throat as she could. I spewed water out, throwing up pretty much everything I'd swallowed. 
She then pulled a super sharp dagger from behind her body, as if it had been floating there,patiently waiting for her to take it and plunge it into my exposed left wrist. She ripped open a canyon in my skin from palm to elbow. 
Then the man ripped my head back. My sister shoved my hemorrhaging wrist into my still open mouth and contorted my arm, elbow sticking up in a painful position that forced all the blood into my mouth.
She was forcing me to drink my own blood. 
After what seemed like an eternity of disgustingly warm and metallic liquid pouring down my throat, a sharp pain ripped my focus to my abdomen. 
The knife my sister had used to rip open my arm was now buried into my stomach, so far deep half of it's hilt was inside of my body.
The man planted a foot on my lower back and shoved me into the water. Blood and acid quickly began to stain the water and change the color of the light floating into the oasis. I hated tainting such perfect water but I was dying. There was no fighting this warm darkness that was crawling up my spine and flooding through my body. Why would I want to anyway? It was so welcome. I deserved to die. Everyone had said so...

My dreams ended for a time. I actually woke up, absolutely confused and aching everywhere. I leaned up, looking around me.

I was not in the same room.

There was a shower and toilet in one corner and a four poster bed that dominated the middle of the room. It was a memory foam mattress with billions of pillows adorning it, and it was one of the most delightful sights I'd seen in a long time.
A small wardrobe held a single, long sleeve shirt, a pair of jeans, and simple black boots. There was a pair of thick socks as well. There were also plenty of towels in a drawer in the bedside table.

I was hesitant to take a shower, lest the water be acid or the soap be some bleach tablet in disguise. Regardless, I turned on the water and once it was steaming, just stuck my hand in.

My skin didn't melt off, or swell, or even turn red. I stripped out of the disgustingly stiff and bloody clothes I had been in, throwing myself directly under the shower head. I grabbed the soap, not giving a ship if it was bleach, because bleach was better than this blood caked on my skin.
The water going down the drain stayed red for quite sometime, but I don't really know how long, considering I still had no way to tell time. Eventually the water started to stop draining, chunks of meat were clogging the stop of the drain. I stared at the growing pool of filmy red liquid at my feet, the horrifying realization that I'd have to voluntarily touch someones, or a mixture of someones, flesh overpowering me for a moment.

I didn't want to, but I knelt down anyway, going as fast as my slippery limbs would allow me. I snatched the wet mass of meat, stumbled out of the shower and threw it in the toilet. There was no sink, and I was not going to put it in a trashcan, even if I had one, which I didn't. Who knew... actually, there was no question of it; That hypothetical trash can would never be taken out, and said slump of meat would just sit there, slowly rotting and stinking up the room.

Soon as the mass was in the toilet I dashed back into the shower. I scraped at my hands, my scalp, and all over my body. I couldn't handle the knowledge that I'd been covered in people. Brains and biceps and thighs and hair and eyeballs and-

I was having a panic attack. I was cracking under the pressure of the torture from my kidnapper and my own mind. Pretty soon I was bleeding, having not only scratched most of my body but I also reopened the glass wounds on my arms only to hastily rip out every piece of glass I could find, keeping a small piece to tear at my skin with. My arms, my shoulders, my face, and my knees were all bleeding a little more, the small cuts not even noticeable as I threw the piece of glass away from me, curling into a ball on the floor and screaming. I just screamed until the water ran so cold it stung and long enough to yell my voice silent. 

I turned off the water, getting out with my teeth chattering. I was cold from the water and the temperature of the room. I dried myself quickly with a couple of towels, wringing my hair out and crawling into the bed.
I curled under the thing sheet, tears streaking down my face as my stomach screamed at me. I couldn't remember the last I'd eaten because I'd thrown up everything from that day...hadn't I?

No. I couldn't remember. I'd been passed out for days, so I probably hadn't eaten in...four days? A week? I needed time, I needed to know what time and day it was, I needed to eat and I needed to get the fuck out of here.The door swung open and the lights dimmed down to the point they were pretty much turned off. 
The smell of food hit me like a train, my stomach a growling dragon ready to devour a village. I fell out of the bed, running to my feet and practically crashing into the cart. The man, my kidnapper, stepped back and exited the room without so much as a single word.
I ripped open all the containers, not daring to touch any sort of meat. I gorged myself on eggs and apples, peanut butter and fries. Then I had to run to the toilet, because I ate too much, too fast and my stomach was probably the size of a pinkie finger at that time. I spewed food into the toilet, holding my hair back as the acid burned my throat and chunks of half-chewed food stuck to the back of my teeth. I coughed, my fingers simultaneously stumbling for the toilet handle.
The disgustingly identifiable mass of food disappeared in a swirl of water and once I'd spot out all of the acrid taste I could I stumbled up and to the shower. I ran the water weakly, getting a mouthful and swishing it around before spitting the slightly brown water down the drain. I turned off the shower, deciding not to stuff my face this time. Instead I took a single egg and ate it slowly, chewing with care. When I had finished it I felt stuffed but...empty. There was a huge void where my family had been and my mind kept telling me to eat that delicious food. It was whispering that if I stuffed my face I'd feel better. If I threw it up I'd have some sort of control again, For a while I just stared at the huge cart of food, unsure when I'd be fed again.

So I gorged myself.

I still didn't dare touch the meat, but I ended up eating every other morsel of food on that cart, eventually. Most of it ended up down the toilet but near the end I kept quite a bit down. I was also exhausted, my repeated vomiting and eating and my mental breakdown from earlier had put my energy level in the negative. So I collapsed onto the big, fluffy cloud that was that fucking amazing bed.

I didn't expect to dream easy, but I also didn't expect to have the same dream of my sister I'd already had. Still, I did. Same down to the look of the knife she stabbed into my gut. It was unnerving enough for me to wake up for a moment, unable to process the darkness around me or the sickness rising in my gut before I sank back into my mind and the fun-house it had set up for me.
I've actually forgotten most of them now, but I remember one where I was swimming in acid and as my skin melted off I thought "Why won't it relieve the pain inside me?"

I woke up in the Plexiglas room, my stomach still turning from the, probably bumpy, walk that the psycho had to take to get me here. 

Me and the other person, sitting, passed out, on the other side of the glass.