Prologue (III)

The giant gargoyle scoffed, as if confused by the absurd question.

But the revelation it brought froze Cyril's thoughts.

"H-Hell, already? That can't…"

"That can not be?" His sentence trailed off, but the creature finished it for him. "Why not?"

"I thought I had to be judged first before I was sent to Heaven or Hell, isn't that how it is in religion?"

"Hmph. That exact reason is why you are here now, standing before the gates."

In response to its words, Cyril turned his gaze towards the gargantuan golden gate in front of him.

"Even if you were not to be judged, think again. Do you really think you deserve to enter the pearly white gates?"

It didn't take Cyril even three seconds to conclude the answer to that question. No. He didn't deserve it.

In the past, in his life, Cyril had lived only for himself. While that wasn't inherently wrong, he had sacrificed the livelihoods and happiness of an innumerable number of people to do it. For his own sake, families had been torn apart. Brothers and sisters had died, widows have wept, while sons and daughters had been forced to brave the world alone.

He didn't deserve to be in Heaven. Hell, he probably didn't even deserve to stand in front of its gates.

"Does this mean… my fate has already been determined?" Cyril's eyes frowned as he looked at the gate in contemplation.

To him, already being in Hell after death could only mean one thing; that he was being sent there. After all, the concept of Purgatory and Heaven existed, so why would he be sent to Hell to be judged?

Although he hadn't been a firm believer in life, he wasn't averse to the idea of religion or an afterlife. He had accepted that they might exist, and in doing so, he had accepted that his actions were sinful, all for money. The information of a VIP's loved ones, those who have had their futures ruined by addictions, innocent lives that he had sold for his own wellbeing.

Even if he hadn't believed in religion, he could still acknowledge that they were morally wrong, and as a result, he had been mentally prepared long ago. Mentally prepared not just to die, but to suffer for his sins.

"Who knows." Cyril's words were spoken absentmindedly, but the gargoyle took them as a question. "I have seen many things happening in the eons I have sat here. Perhaps you will be condemned, or perhaps your guardian angel will intervene on your behalf. Perhaps a powerful hero will fight his way to Hell to rescue you, though I doubt it in your case. Well, no matter what, you have yet to be judged."

The creature's words were brief, but they contained a lot of information. But something about what it said seemed slightly off, and it didn't take long for Cyril to figure out what.

"Wait, you mentioned that I have yet to be judged? But why would I be in Hell if I have yet to be judged? Or are you saying I'm going to be judged by demons?"

"…" The gargoyle remained silent, but its brows seemed to move very slightly into a furrow.

"I'm going to be judged by demons? That doesn't seem very fai-"

 "Cease your words!"

Before Cyril could continue – perhaps already guessing his next words – the Gargoyle loudly interrupted him.

Its voice was, while hoarse, grand. It was louder than any human could muster, and it echoed off of the black walls and gate as it bounced into the void above.

Shortly afterwards, a loud cracking sound resounded into the air as the gargoyle began to move.

In the still and incredibly quiet hallway, the sounds were frightening and out of place. The cracks continued as the gargoyle, originally squatting, shifted into a curled position, its arms wrapped around its knees. Fine stone-dust fell from its back as it curled up. Its enormous bat-wings wrapped around its entire body, encasing it in darkness. The only thing left visible in a gap from the darkness of its wings were its eyes. They glowed a sickly orange.

The cracking sounds from it gave Cyril the impression that it hadn't moved in a long, long time. Along with its hoarse voice, it truly seemed as if it had sat in front of the gate for the eons it had spoken of, guarding silently.

"Foolish mortal, you are standing in front of the Grand Court of Hell. Mind your words!" The gargoyle's voice sounded very tense. "The judges do not tolerate blasphemous speech."

That, combined with the position it had assumed, made it seem like it was… afraid. Terrified, even.

The contrast between its terrifying form and its fear boggled Cyril's mind. What could possibly make such a creature feel so afraid?

"…This Grand Court, and even all of Hell, are the Almighty's creations. Doubting the judges he has anointed is equal to doubting him, and that is unacceptable." Seeing as he still seemed confused, the gargoyle explained further.

"I don't understand. In the biblical texts, aren't the demons against God?"

The gargoyle paused for a moment, as if contemplating, before continuing. "That is indeed the case, but His creations are absolute."

"I still don't get it…" Its words seemed direct, but were also contradictory at the same time.

"Do not try and understand, mortal. It is beyond your control." In the darkness, Cyril could see the glowing orange eyes move side-to-side as it shook its head. "The path to God is a difficult one. Just know that you must watch your words, else both you and I will suffer a fate worse than death."

"Uh… I understand." Though Cyril didn't quite get what he couldn't talk about, the gargoyle's solemnness was enough to tell him to avoid any topic of religion.

"You should not have to take my word to understand me. After all, you can hear for yourself."

A thin finger, boney, and sharp red finger pointed up as the gargoyle spoke. Its actions made Cyril listen closely, but after the echoing ended, he could hear nothing. The hallway was absolutely silent.

It was a silence he had never experienced before, one made even deeper as he realized he was not actually breathing.

But there was one noise he had overlooked, one that had been there since he had woken up.

"You mean… the droning sound?"

"Hm. Yes, I suppose you can describe it that way."

"What are you trying to say? What is it?"

"Those are the screams of the damned, a fate worse than death. Those burning in torment, those who exist in Hell."