#Chapter20
For me, Hell wore many faces. It had never been a crater in the earth's crust, governed by a little red man with a pitchfork fetish. It had never been about flaying flesh and the screams of the damned.
No. The Hells I had seen, the ones that I had experienced, came in subtler forms, and more often than not, left marks upon my flesh as an eternal reminder.
Yet, this new Hell I faced, I doubted it would leave scars as the others had, but it posed as a trauma that would induce nightmares for many moons to come.
Beneath the fluorescent glare of the overhead lights, surrounded by a labyrinth of high rising shelves, the place was like a human zoo. The tailless monkeys ravaged the aisles, tearing through them in noisy clusters or ragging carts after them, and just in case being forced to suffer their putrid scents and obnoxious attitudes were not enough, Tiptoe Through The Tulips droned out of the mounted speakers.
