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A poem.


Jessica’s Lamentations of a Day in Hell

by Nick Llanes


Prologue: Fields of the Mundane


Every day we toiled in sad Asphodel—

The mournful fields, bitter fields, evil fields.

Every day we sowed seeds in this grey Hell,

and we ate bitter grain as daily meals.

It was but an imitation of work

From our old lives, to try to forget that

We’re trapped in  places where evil things lurked.

And ‘twas ungodly, this dark world of rats.

We ended up here, refusing to repent,

Prideful men and prideful women, we had

Chosen freedom over the heaven-sent

Words of redemption. I asked, were we mad?

And woe–the hell people chanted:

“We were mad with anger.

We were mad with pride.

We were mad before we died.”



A Chorus Line of Wrathful Pigs

I was the prideful one; the jealous one,

hidden underneath the shadow of my

very own brother, the wrathful  one.

He who led me into the paths of pigs.

Paths of pigs, paths of lies.

Paths of pigs, paths of flies.

Paths of pigs, paths of —

Drugs, which took me high! High into the skies,

Like a sky-carriage, flying through blue:

Corrupting hallucinogenic lies.

He had destroyed me inside, so I knew.

So I knew—

So I knew.

So I knew.

That his stark success was not through vice.

He knew each name in every special place

And I knew. On that cold night, he should die,

For I could not stand to see his smug face.

His smug face—

His stupid face—

His elvish face—

His damned pudgy nose and flabby cheeks,

The way he laughs as he displays his wealth,

God should have helped me—I was so damn weak,

I believed he should die a painful death!

A painful death!

A painful death!

A painful death!

So many ways presented themselves to me,

Gunshot, drowning, knives, and poison were there.

“Which of these do you want to use?” asked he.

I shrugged at the thug, saying, “I didn’t care.”



An Infernal Fate

Long story short, saved for another date,

I’m left to suffer this infernal fate.

Lady in black, the magister in white,

They judged me to leave; I put up no fight.

Last I saw of brother, he wept in hell,

Like a child under our mother’s dark spell.

Thousands of tears falling down his damp cheeks,

When Death tapped his shoulder, I had felt so weak.

The Judge had put him there to save my soul,

Before I died, when he came back a ghost,

He was trapped within that grey, sullen place,

Not breaking apart, through the Judge’s grace.

In the dark, as I saw Death lift him up,

Dark arms pulled me in before I screamed “Stop!”

Death-woman and my brother walked away,

And I whimpered, as the demons said:




Epilogue: True Freedom and Cosmic Horrors

Welcome to Absolute Freedom, daddy-o.


That’s what we call this place.

We call it Dis, we call it that,

Hell, some even call it pandemonium.

Do you hear that?

Beyond the sound of the wailings of the suicides,

The criminals, the murderers,

Is a sound I always cringe to hear.

I always hear it, daddy-o.

Squirming tentacles  millions of miles wide, and


 wailing in the

darkness, gaping maws

with rows and rows

of razor



Eyes that could shatter your very sanity

Breath that smelled like a million rotting corpses.

Bodies that ran from galaxy-to-galaxy.

These were the gods in these parts, daddy-o,

And we’re just dust in the wind.

Lucifer ain’t got no real power here, daddy-o.

He’s the same as us—a prisoner. A prideful, spoiled king, but still a prisoner.

Puppet for the things wailing in the darkness.

‘cuz you see, daddy-o,

In that lil’ white room we called the Judgement Room,

When we refused to repent,

Our souls were sucked into this damn void,

the very void where God did not exist.

An’ because of that, daddy-o,

Things also came to replace God in the order of things.

An’  they ain’t friendly.

An’ they ain’t got no morals.

In the end, daddy-o,

Being humble ain’t such a bad idea after all.


Zombies in Fantasy: Diablo (Retrospective)


I won't mention Diablo III because I haven't played it yet. So stop asking.

It was his SLED. [Spoiler] That’s one of the zombies you fight in Diablo 2.

I like Diablo. And as of my previous article, you know I like Zombies. Not the zombies you see in horror films, although I enjoy those as well. No, I like the undead as staple in fantasy, because let’s face it: zombies would make a brilliant addition to a fantasy setting — hell, they might even be needed. It also suspends disbelief in the air— if you can set fire using incantations, or summon unholy beasts from beyond Space and Time; you most certainly can wake the dead.

The stories of the Undead stretched back as far as every Legend in culture, but the game Dungeons and Dragons was one of several that made the trope popular for the fantasy genre. Zombies, as always, are dark, deadly creatures that will fuck up your day if you let them. They’re also obviously a part of the fantasy genre. So, it would be fitting to insert them in Diablo — a Dark Fantasy series about fighting the forces of hell.

Zombies have always been aligned to the dark side, apparently—in Diablo, you have these Walkers shambling around with their less-skinned brethren, Skeletons, while in Diablo II you have foes that raise the dead. I don’t like the misconception that the raising the dead are necessarily evil—they could be used for good, too. I remember one bad-ass moment in the fifth installment of Percy Jackson wherein the god of the Dead, Hades, sets loose his army of skeletons to aid the Olympians. So it isn’t unheard of that necromancy is necessarily evil—it just lies very deep in Anti-Heroic territory, that we misconceive it to be evil. In short, it isn’t evil all the time.

Unless you want a bone spear tearing through your flesh, and the feeling of anguish as your body explodes, you probably don’t want to mess with this guy.

Which leads us to Diablo II, and the surprisingly-fun-to-use Necromancer.  I downloaded this game the other day, and I find it a lot of fun to play as the Necro, specifically the Summonmancer build. In the said build, my skills usually revolved around skeleton mastery and summoning thralls to fight for me. Which was totally the reflection of my personality.  (Hehe) And possibly, a stylistic preference.

A usual sight in Diablo 2: Skeletons, armed with scythes, running around your vicinity, killing everyone that isn’t your Friend, while you idly stand around and watch them do their thing, or even participate in the battles yourself. I certainly did that, cleaving other Undead, mutant beasts or demons in my way. Or blowing the crap out of them using my Corpse Explosion spell.

Anyway, I still love fighting the general Undead—there was a part in the second act where you fight these brilliant-looking (and not to mention Menacing) Greater Mummies, Undead that previously grafted animal parts on their bodies so that their powers would double in the Un-life. Their very appearance gives me this sudden feeling of dread, until I kill one, and I realize that if I could down one, I could use the aforementioned corpse explosion spell and blow the others up to bits.

I think Diablo is a very good example of how the Undead can be used for the side of good (or, atleast, it can be used for Anti-Heroic deeds), and still be menacing enough to be a horrifying foe. But that doesn’t make killing them less satisfying.


Aiodeus, the Necromancer!

This screencap is from my kick-ass adventures in the land of Sanctuary. My minions (excluding my sellsword) aren’t as outfitted with the state-of-the-art undead weaponry.

Edit: NO, I haven’t played Diablo III yet. Don’t wank about not finding it here, please. This is a retrospective. Diablo and Diablo II fit perfectly, since this is a retrospective article.