The Seven Levels of Hell in Erepublik!
Jon Malcom
Dear Murica,
Well they say what doesn't kill us makes us stronger or stranger.
Perhaps a bit of both in my case.
Truth is I figured out what this is. This isn't death, this is punishment, punishment from the gods of this present evil twisted world.
It's purgatory.
See that's the secret. They won't let you die. It's as if I could put a .45 up to my mouth pull the trigger and feel the impact of the bullet and the warm blood pooling up by my feet. Yet I'm still alive.
"What are you in here for?" I asked one of my fellow-players.
"I tried to organize a PTO of a top party to control America."
"What level are we on?" He asked.
"Well you're never getting out without someone buying gold for you, but I'd say you look like you're in Level 4 The Slothful because you wouldn't try to build your party the right way." Before I could explain further some angelic admin creature halfway between admin and player called a moderator grabbed my hand and pulled me lower.
"Why are you doing this to me?" I asked. His face showed no remorse as he tossed me off a cliff and as I fell I wondered what I did to receive this deal. Almost as quickly as I fell she caught me, I recognized her as one of the players in the eUS Military. Didn't she get shot in the head when a PEACE platoon ambushed us in Idaho? She looked fine now.
"Lower you must go to see why you should be repentant of your sins Jon Malcom."
I nodded my head, it's not like I could fight a woman with a huge sword on her hip and the ability to snap my neck like a twig.
"Now we descend to level 3."
I was set down on my feet and to my surprise heard nothing but shouting and screaming. She yelled in my ear and pointed to long rows of jail cells
"Behold the wrathful!"
"I demand my ticket be read!" One man yelled.
"She's a f*cking bi*ch! You don't understand."
"Hey, look this guy's different, come here man!" A player called out, I approached with my angel close behind me.
"You gotta tell the admin taking away moving tickets was utter BS man!"
"They took away moving tickets a long time ago, how long have you been in here anyway?" I asked.
He grabbed a cup in his cell and proceeded to throw it at me, before it touched my face the angel had grabbed it and threw it back.
She looked at him and for a second her eyes burned with fire "Pig" she said and guided me to the end for yet another cliff drop.
"You need protection" she kissed my lips and I could taste the strawberries on hers "that will keep you warm."
"But you died Dania?" I asked.
"The valiant do not die, they simply usher the dead in. Behold the next level, level 2 The Furious.
She threw me off the cliff.
It was getting colder.
Comments
This is what happens when you don't write for a long time.
y u no deer RvR and muricuh?
Y U FORGET ME SO SOON
http://imgur.com/Kn8y9
I'm glad they haven't deleted you.
Down the rabbit-hole for you, instead 😉
HOLY SHIT A DANIA REF
I still have her on my friends list. I refuse to purge her.
Dante escaped from hell so can I escape from this game?
Interesting and funny.
I enjoyed it.
RIP
I'm so glad you are back Jon.
Your seven levels of hell have eight levels. I seem to be able to qualify for 5 of those, or 6 if thoughts count as deeds...
The Ghost of Jon Malcom: Phone call from the afterlife.
VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV
My most favorite of all you have written.
The voices from the grave are very nice indeed.