Chapter Text
The fifth layer is in chaos.
The River Styx overflowed to an immense size, a sudden influx of souls arriving on the shore, waiting to be delivered.
And yet, faithful to heaven as ever, the ferrymen still did their work. Tirelessly delivering soul after soul across the river as the trips grew longer and the damned seemed to increase twenty fold, pouring in by the millions.
Over and over, more humans arrived, the crowd seeming to grow faster than the ferryman can keep up with.
Over and over, His routine remains mundane and repetitive for weeks, perhaps months on end.
Over and over, the days blended together as the ferryman’s bones grew more tired and weak from the non stop work.
Several times during a trip, some sort of incident may occur. A passenger aboard his ship may attempt to inflict violence upon him or many of the other souls on board the ship. The waves might make the boat unsteady. If he was really unlucky, the leviathan may appear, and he’d have to deal with that shitstorm. Of course, it’s his duty to make sure the souls get to the other side safely.
And so he did. God he was fucking tired.
So tired that, as he was zoned out, he didn’t notice himself drift off and fall asleep. He didn’t hear anyone come in, he didn’t feel the hands grabbing at him and hushed whispers among men.
It’s not until something grabs at his ribcage roughly that he is startled awake, and quickly realizes he can’t fucking see.
His hands immediately reached up to his face, clawing at his eyes, before being grabbed and pinned behind his back. He flailed, panicking as he became increasingly aware of his position. Leaning back against someone behind him who kept his arms behind his back as legs were grabbed and pulled at. He could feel hands on his ribs, hated how he could feel them under his ribs.
The sound of laughter floods his skull, taunting and mocking him. Cheers erupt as hands hook beneath his knees, pulling them against his chest. Frankly, the ferryman doesn’t exactly know what’s going on, the sound and internal panic making it hard to think clearly.
Something cold brushes against his pelvis, and at first he’s confused.
Then it goes in, and he shrieks.
Pain spreads throughout his lower area as the unknown object is forced deeper, scraping against his bones and causing them to creak. It didn’t seem to be anything phallic, being much too wide and hard, as if the object was made of stone.
His legs tremble from the pain as he tries to kick out, struggling against the hold on his arms and chest. Every time the object is pushed further, his breath hitches and he winces in pain. Every time he whimpers, laughter erupts around him as derogatory words and insults are thrown at him. It pushed at his ischial spine, making a sickening noise as cracks developed along the cartilage. The object is pushed until it physically cannot go any further, already having made deep gashes permanent damage to the bones.
There seemed to be no explanation for this behavior other than to cause him suffering. Why, why would so many band together for the sole purpose to cause him pain? Has he not been forgiving enough? Even when the majority of souls stopped paying the toll? Even when he fought storm after storm for weeks on end?
Humans are greedy. They will take every part of you until there is nothing left, and discard you when you finally break.
With a bit of force required, the object is pulled out and tossed aside. Although his wounds still sting and blood drips down his legs, the ferryman exhales, relieved from the immense pressure and sound of breaking bones filling his skull.
Someone grabs his legs, hooking his knees above their hands and pushing them forward. Leaning over him, something brushes against his sacrum.
When will this torment end?
He cries out as they start to thrust, gaining cheers from the crowd. The act invokes more pain as his wounds are scraped against, but terrifyingly, it invokes another strange feeling in him. Something he didn’t even know he could feel anymore.
“Wait- stop-”
Since shedding his mortal skin, he hasn't even attempted to feel pleasure, refraining himself. Chasing the dream of a place in heaven, not letting any more sins weigh himself down. Loyal to hopes of redemption. Dutifully doing his job of safely carrying passengers across the river without further distractions.
For whom? These people?
Of course not. For the father. For heaven.
A seat in heaven. That is what was promised to him, and yet, will heaven still want this tainted body? This filthy soul?
Fucking whore.
A particularly harsh thrust made him throw his head back, a small whimper escaping. More terrifying than pain is pleasure, and he feels like he might throw up. Something sticky poured onto his pelvis, seeping between his joints and dripping onto the floor. More laughter. These sinners wanted, solely, to humiliate him.
He didn’t want to give them that.
“D-damned sinners, perhaps even hell is too forgiving for the likes of you.”
It took quite a bit of strength to not simply spew insults and curses.”
Someone punches his skull hard, and he thinks he heard something crack. “Maybe you’ll lose some of that misplaced ego after we’re all done with you.”
He feels fear weigh in his chest. It seemed that if what the voice implied was true, his torment wasn’t going to end anytime soon.
In his head, he sends a silent prayer to whoever may be listening. In some strange hopes that an angel would descend and rid all these people. His presence would emit a warm, radiant glow, and he would hold the ferryman in his arms, whispering to him that despite his body being tainted, his devotion to God would make his sins forgiven.
How greedy, to think you are deserving of being saved once again.
Someone grabs his legs. Heaven has turned him away, and he is alone in the darkness.
Something breaches his pelvis and some pathetic noise escapes his throat as wet droplets roll down his face.
He didn’t know he could cry.
Is it over?
…
The ferryman picks himself up, grunting at the pain in his head. His hands reached under his cloth and for his eyes, as he was still met with darkness.
It took a bit to figure it out, clawing at nothing for a while before his fingers seemed to catch onto something. He pulled, a weird sensation followed by light pouring into his vision. In his hands remained a cloth, showing wet patches from tears.
He reached into his other eye, pulling out the remaining cloth. Besides the fact that someone would even think of such a strange and slightly horrifying method of blinding him, the thought of those sinners having seen his face is… upsetting, to say the least.
He looked around. Nobody else seems to be present. Perhaps the ship already docked and the passengers left.
He gets up, the thick substance between his joints making it harder to move. Blood is mixed into the filth, along with white dust from the remains of bones. He’s a mess.
He has some time before going back, and getting the next batch of souls.
Continuing his work.
Does he even have to do that at all? Keep going until when?
Nonsense. It is his duty to heaven.
What does heaven value in a sinner like himself? He is tainted now.
He trips over himself, bones moving slower than it should. He should really take a bath.
He has no lungs to breathe, yet still feels the burn of drowning.
The saltwater stings his wounds. Perhaps he should have thought about that before making it part of his eternal torment.
The first time he died, he remembers light blinding his vision.
There will be no light this time.
He will sink until he joins the other souls in the depths of the ocean. His chest will forever burn with longing for air, until succumbing to the darkness.
It’s not pain that he hasn't felt before. But at the thought of finding himself alone with nothingness, he seems a little afraid.
Perhaps it’s what he deserves. His actions not only involved sin, but treachery.
The ferryman sunk further into the darkness of the sea, watching the light slowly getting further away. He can’t close his eyes, so he focuses on the cloth in front of his face. It’s not like he can see much with it soaked anyways.
A sudden dizziness overwhelms him. He was still losing blood from the multiple cracks within his body and on his skull.
The air around him seemed to get warmer. Maybe I’m dying already. Maybe I’m hallucinating.
Light blinds his vision
Gabriel once again made his way to the layer of wrath. After the obvious commotion from the influx of souls, he was admittedly worried about the ferrymen. Realistically, there was nothing he could do to help other than fending off the leviathan occasionally.
But, on the occasion that a sinner would go overboard…
There.
He saw the faint figure, sinking further into the sea. Normally, a blue ferryman would be hard to stop underwater. Luckily he seemed to still be wearing his cloth.
The waves were heavy and admittedly, he struggled to reach the surface once again after holding the ferryman in his arms. His power of flight aided him, and he landed on the ferry, gasping for air.
The ferryman remained unresponsive, and still clutching him in his arms, Gabriel searched for a room with a bed to lay him down on. That is, until he arrived at a particular hallway where something caught his eye.
It’s a painting, taking up almost an entire wall, even taller than Gabriel. A painting of himself front and center, with the ferryman in his arms. Closer analysis would reveal careful brushwork, his armor depicted with realistic perfection and his halo and wings emitting a warm glow.
He came to a realization that perhaps this was the same ferryman whom he had saved some time ago.
It was… interesting. Perhaps strange in some people's eyes. Gabriel hadn’t thought much of saving the ferryman back then. It was simply him doing what he felt was needed, returning a favor to the ferrymen for their hard work.
To think this one ferryman valued the moment so much is…
Heartwarming, perhaps.
He didn’t have time to dwell on it, as he still has a task at hand.
Laying the ferryman down on the bed, he finally was able to access the situation. Upon closer inspection, it seems that he was quite injured, having multiple crafts and scrapes along his pelvis as well as the cloth tainted a bright pink, signs that blood had been stained on it. Perhaps he kept bandages around here?
He searched in drawers, finding a few things. Paintbrushes, chisels, palettes… an artist, it seems. He also found a red book, but ignored it to prevent any invasion of privacy.
…There! He dug up a roll of bandages, bringing it over to the ferryman laid on the bed.
He lifted up the cloth slightly to reveal more of the damage. Larger cracks leaking blood were forming from the right and left inner Ilium, becoming more prominent at the point where it meets the pubis. Scrapes were located at the sacrum and pelvic brim, and the end of the tailbone seemed to have been snapped clean off. He’s not sure how comfortable it would be for the ferryman to have bandages wrapped around his bones inside and out, but it seemed better than letting him slowly leak blood.
He took the bandage and got to work, positioning himself so that he was kneeling on the bed, parallel to the ferryman and somewhat leaning over him.
Gabriel was able to finish up bandaging one of the larger cracks when chaos ensued.
The ferryman suddenly jolted, kicking and attempting to attack Gabriel, and due to his time of training and experience as a warrior, Gabriel reacted almost instantly by reflex; grabbing the ferryman’s wrists and pinning in to his sides, and putting one knee on his leg to render it incapable of movement, but not too hard to possibly damage the leg.
Normally, Gabriel would be furious at being suddenly attacked, no less from someone whom he was trying to help. But it’s the ferryman’s reaction that instead sparks concern in Gabriel.
Despite the cloth covering his face, Gabriel can practically feel the fear radiating from the ferryman. He trembled terribly, and soft, shaky mumblings of “God, help me” were repeated along with other incoherent prayers, voice cracking and choking on the words.
Gabriel immediately lets him go and moves back, surprised. He barely used any force, only restraining his movement, careful not to hurt the ferryman in any way. So why…?
“M-my Radiance?”
Gabriel’s attention is brought back to the ferryman at the present moment, who seemingly came to his senses.
“...Are you alright?”
“My light!” The ferryman immediately gets up and knees before Gabriel, head down and hands pressed together. “P-please forgive me for my earlier actions…”
For once, Gabriel feels slightly uncomfortable at the sight of a sinner trying to repent. “There’s no need. I was just… trying to bandage your wounds. Perhaps we should continue now.”
“Of course, my radiance…”
The ferryman lied back down, breathing a bit heavy. His legs twitched at every touch, flinching easily, and the ferryman gripped the bed sheets tightly.
“...Maybe it’s better for you to do it yourself?”
“O-of course…”
The ferryman sat up, grabbing the bandages with shaky hands and quickly finishing the work, admittedly a bit sloppily. Gabriel waited patiently, then helped the ferryman place a bandage on his skull where the crack ran.
“If that is all, then I suppose I’ll be going…”
“W-wait!”
Gabriel turns back towards the ferryman, seeing him once more on his knees in prayer.
“I would like to offer my utmost gratitude for saving me once again, my radiance…” Of course.
“...and, if unable to do so in front of the father, I would like to confess my sins in front of his righteous hand…”
This is… unexpected. Rarely would any of the ferrymen be noted to commit any sins after receiving their status, all chasing the ideal that is redemption and entrance to heaven.
“Continue.”
“...Forgive me Father, for I have sinned…
“As of the recent, I have engaged with… intercourse… between myself and another being without the goal of reproduction.
“I have committed this sin multiple times recently… I am not sure how many.
“I-it was not my intention to commit such wrongdoings, and I truly tried to stop…”
His voice is breaking up.
“I…I truly tried to s-stop, I didn’t want…
“I told them- I didn’t- despite that-”
It’s getting harder to string together sentences now, his voice seemingly refusing to work, reducing to small sobs as his form weakens, becoming more curled in on himself.
“F-for these sins, I wish t-to truly repent… and ask for your absolution- god, please forgive me-”
The ferryman sobs, returning to the shallow mumbling as he repeats the phrase “forgive me, forgive me…”
Gabriel was speechless. He didn’t understand what was going on, and didn’t know what to do in such a situation. But, seeing him in such a state, he felt some sort of… worry?
He felt anger. Hatred. Not towards the ferryman himself, but for whatever may have caused him such despair.
Gabriel kneels down to the ferryman, trying his best to give comfort, as the ferryman accepts his offer, leaning into Gabriel’s shoulder and letting himself be held.
He said the only thing he knew how to say in this situation.
“...In the name of the Lord, I absolve you of your sins.”