Hells Gate Novels & Stories

A past that visits him from the depths of Hell, haunted by its spectra with nightmares that refuse to leave him even after all those centuries have passed. He raised his head and watched the disc of the sun, which was preparing to set behind the horizon, bid farewell to the island, leaving coldness and darkness, announcing the end of the children's play period and the start of the parents" role in guarding the area from the attack of what remained of the savage Sirana.

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“It’s called Hell’s Gate.” The way he said it made Dante’s smile fade. He looked at him more carefully. “It’s a torture site,” Alessandro continued, voice steady but distant, like he was reciting something he’d memorized long ago. “Hidden in the bush lands on the outskirts of New York City. Isolated. No neighboring properties. No cameras registered to the grid. No one who goes in there and comes back alive.” The air shifted. “There are two actually,” Alessandro added. “The first one was controlled by my father. And the second, he gave to Nico to do what he pleases with anyone that crosses him.

"Read! It! Out! Loud!" I swallowed hard as I focused on the words. "Porta Inferni," I finally muttered. She chuckled. "That's right, Damiano! The Gate of Hell." Then she locked eyes with me. "This ranch is the gate of hell, the Gallos are the gatekeepers, and I... Well, I am hell itself." Then she locked eyes with me. "But... what happens when the gatekeepers are gone and the gate is left without a guard?" I was too terrified to speak or say anything. Then her hands found my chest.

We took Nivi to hospital and waited for her test results. Each and every second I stood outside of every test room was like I am passing through an eternity. Under me it was hell of fire where I was burning in that. There is no hell or heaven after death it's all in our life. Now I am getting all punishments for what aI did to that girl and I am in hell. Like my naani said bad people will treated very badly in hell by burning alive in fire.

There were many rocks with sharp edges were lying all over the place, and I could hear the boiling of water from somewhere, when my eyes followed the sound, it landed on red hot lava running through a small stream. “Right here, guys!” Helena’s voice snapped my gaze to her, who was standing a little far from us along with the guys. There was this sky-high gate in front of them which looked like it was carved from the mountains, it had this very dark and gothic aura around it. This place looked like a fragment of my imagination.

They passed by skyscrapers, old buildings, and fancy neighborhoods, it didn’t take long for Halle to realize that they had left the capital, and strangely enough, she had expected that the Stones would live in the capital just like the other high folk. Halle knew she was tired but she was enjoying the view, it counted as a good distraction from her nervously beating heart. Soon the car slowed down when they reached a large gate, maybe the entrance to some fancy rich people's estate of some sort. The gates were a mixture of gold and silver, the small and big metal bars intricately crafted and designed to push, twist, and curve against each other. The gates were beautiful and it made her think

So, we got dressed and headed out for the day's adventure. It is seventy-three miles on a twisting, turning, elevation changing, mostly two lane road from Cambria to my favorite restaurant on the west coast of the United States, Nepenthe. On a freeway seventy-three miles is just about an hours ride. On the coast highway, on a motorcycle, it takes longer. Add in the time for a couple of scenic overlooks and it was lunch time when we arrived.

There was only raw, absolute power, hammered into the very throat of the mountain. The gates were massive—two towering slabs of iron and dark, reinforced steel that looked like they had been forged in the fires of hell itself. As we approached, they didn't just open; they groaned, a deep, resonant sound of tortured metal that vibrated through the floorboards of the car and rattled in my chest.

"Your little girlfriend. Is she part of this?" "She doesn't know," I said firmly, standing up. "But we're going to find out why her name is on the floor of hell." "Mr. Jack," Ben called out from the darkness ahead. "You might want to see this. The vent leads directly to the primary firewall. But... there's a toll booth." I walked over. The "toll booth" was a massive blast door, thick enough to stop a nuclear warhead. And right in the center, at chest height, was a hole.