Tuesday, April 21, 2009

The City of Destruction

Dis was a city of destruction. From the grinders in the northern quarter to the mechanical knives in the south it was designed to take people apart an inch at a time, preserving the life in them to the bitter end the better to appreciate the screams and agonies of the damned.

Housing and offices sprang up in the spaces between torture chambers. The central hub of Dis became the administrative offices for Hell, transplanted with some delight from the previous council buildings in Pandemonium, where the paraillegals couldn’t hear themselves think for the cacophony of demons and the chattering of succubae.

The south eastern sector became a palace of art – the twisted flesh and bone sculptures of those demons still enamoured of the mortal world and making art for the masses of mortals that would shudder and avert their eyes. The opposite sector of the new city housed apartment buildings and restaurants for the better class of demon – when the damned arrived here they were already deprived of voices, lending a quiet air to the place where the demons could digest their food in peace.

There was just one problem, one that had miraculously escaped the attention of the planners, designers and architects of the city. It mattered little how majestic were the grinders, how bright the skinning knives and how reflective the flesh scoops. What mattered more than anything was something that would leave the machinery silent for a thousand years.

The damned didn’t have flesh to rend.


aims said...

Oh my.
Simply brilliant.

stephanie said...


Well done.

Leatherdykeuk said...

Thank you both :)