The setting sun colored the scenerey with an ephemeral glow of a varied gradient, transitioning smoothly from the deepest crimson to the palest violet. Dusk was making itself prominent with each passing moment. The soothing crimson rays illuminated beautifully the tops of the one and two storey buildings which lined the lonely streets of the town, the apparent refraction giving it the looks of Paradise.

Paradiso......

Dante Alighieri was somehow moved by the beauty that Florence bestowed upon his old eyes. He couldn't avert his eyes from the sight, such tenacity it beheld. But that very same scenery was the contemplation of the contradiction which posed over him.

Florence alone was the city harboring the death of his beloved, an abstract belongning of hers serving as a momento in Alighieri's humble abode in the town's outskirts. It was the city which barred him from entering it, throwing him into exile.

For all the perils he had recieved, it was still Dante Alighieri's abode of peace, the abode of tranquility, out of the reach of any apparent turbulence. The one place he could refer to as a 'home'.

After some seconds, the breeze's pace slowed, before it died down in a loud silence, an unaverred ringing passing through his ears. The sun drooped low, before dipping itself into the perpetual ocean of the frontier called horizon, vanishing behind the periphery of the world, seemingly dropping darkness over the scenery, the sky painted a deep purple.

For fifty six years he had been placed upon this mortal world, left free to carry out his actions, whatever they may be, but the long harsh years had caused his body to wither away, leaving behind prominent wrinkles and an ailing, rickety body.

Dante Alighieri could do nothing but ponder over his past actions and what defined his life, but couldn't reach to a definite answer, and the certain tension contributing more to the ageing of his frail body.

Even the scholarly crown of leaves on his head had lost their lustre and had withered away, a blasphemy of the ocean of time.

Gazing one last time at the scarce twinkling at the rising stars of the night sky, he could mark out the glamorous twinkle of Venus, showing itself in its prime. Mars had just appeared where the sun had set upon the horizon and was emanating a faint red glow, barely visible to his ailing eyes.

For moments, his eyes drooped low, before closing shut completely, leaving all but a stark blackness.

Something felt different...

For sleep, he could lampoon over the facts such as rats skittering around non-existant nooks of his humble house and uncanny skittering and buzzing of houseflies marked his presence in the perils of the world. But this time, something felt really different.

Not even a whisk of air dared to pass by his face, which seemed to have been erased out of existence. His ailing knee seemed to have stopped producing its obnoxious blasts of acute pain. It seemed more peaceful than usual....and more terrifying.

Dante Alighieri seemed to open his eyes but they wouldn't budge. 

He was falling through nothingness as the apparent feeling of weightlessness, never experienced by him gripped him to the core. 

At that very moment, he remembered the first canto of The Divine Comedy, his praised compilation of literature; his prized work.

"Midway upon the journey of our life I found myself within a forest dark, For the straightforward pathway had been lost."

He knew.....He knew where he was heading to....The final destination the almighty had sought for him. The place he had described well enough to distinguish it perfectly. The one place The Almighty had described to him in his dreams.

Hell.

Inferno.

He was being summonned by Hell, putting an end to the Mortal life of fifty six years he had spent in peril over the Mortal World. 

Behold!

The tragedies of Hell now awaits its knower!

Dante Alighieri sighed inwardly as he descended into the darkness at an unbelievable speed. His mortal form seemed to have degenerated and was replaced by a placid nothingness. All he could see was his astral consciousness descending.

"I cannot well repeat how there I entered, So full was I of slumber at the moment In which I had abandoned the true way."

He could clearly remember how he had portrayed his descent to hell in the Comedy. A slumber did seem to have stricken him the moment he had closed his eyes on the bench overlooking the ephemeral sunset. 

He was sure of it.

He had left the mortal world. He had died.

Though his mind did seem to produce a little uneasiness, as he descended deeper and deeper into the depths of nothingness, barely able to see a faint glow of pale orange in the far distance, which seemed to creep forward extremely slowly; making his insanely fast traversal look menial.

 "Upward I looked, and I beheld its shoulders, Vested already with that planet's rays Which leadeth others right by every road".

Dante Alighieri could see the faint light grow larger in intensity, creeping closer at a faster rate as he approached it with his wild speed. Looking upwards, he could only see the solitary rays of light cause by distorted symbolism. 

For what way he had lost, he knew none. For it is for the Almighty to decide what Fate had befallen for the poor soul of his.

"Then was the fear a little quieted That in my heart's lake had endured throughout The night, which I had passed so piteously."

The uneasiness gripped into him visciously, quickly morphing into the form of fear he had never felt before. The sight he was now beholding was bringing upon him a catastrophic feeling of heartrendingness. 

Blasphemy!

A large desert stretched out to infinity in the darkness, the cold of the night making even his astral form shiver, intensifying the fear which gripped him. For what he knew of hell, this was exactly as he had described in "Inferno". 

"So did my soul, that still was fleeing onward, Turn itself back to re-behold the pass Which never yet a living person left.

 After my weary body I had rested, The way resumed I on the desert slope, So that the firm foot ever was the lower"

He was eyeing tenaciously, a bead of sweat breaking off his temple of his astral body as he knew what were to come in the nearest future. It was inevitable....for that was what Hell made him await for. And it was not long enough since he had set foot onto the vast desert as the familiar sound came prowling from behind of him.

A viscious panther was eyeing him with the greatest of menacing pleasures. Its large fangs and bright yellow eyes all pointing at his frail astral figure.

" And lo! almost where the ascent began, A panther light and swift exceedingly, Which with a spotted skin was covered o'er! "

Hell had already claimed its ownership over his astral body, claiming him to be his new host, the sinner! the blasphemer!

For what sins he had committed in his mortal life, he knew of none.... and reasoning with any being was futile. It was his destiny had he had to accept it, nevertheless how much pain he had to endure during the seemingly eternal journey of purging, of purifying his tainted soul, an amalgamation of all distorted symbolism.

He scurried down to the lowlands, trying to avoid the ravenous and fierce gaze put upon him by the panther with the varigated and spotted body. 

He ran fast.... faster than his frail body could provide the energy for, intense fear gripping over him, his senses only held by the acute sense of protecting himself, to give the all he can to evade, for that is what he was destined for.

For how much he will run away, hell will pounce back, one way or the other.

He hadn't run long when he was intercepted by a majestic lion, who quickly noticed an incoming prey.

"The hour of time, and the delicious season; But not so much, that did not give me fear A lion's aspect which appeared to me."

He couldn't have evaded any longer as a wolf came into his sight, which was heading directly towards him, blocking his only path of escape, rendering him helpless due to the interception of the three terrifying beasts.

 "And a she-wolf, that with all hungerings Seemed to be laden in her meagreness, And many folk has caused to live forlorn!"

Inferno was baring its fangs over him, daring him to run, playing with him like a toy.

Only one internal thought could penetrate the entropic chaos of his mind.

"I.... am doomed."