“Kill me.”

The pleading voice cut through Zeke’s mind, pulling him up short. The bulbous mass of writhing flesh was still more than a hundred yards away, but he heard its voice clearly nonetheless. And more importantly, he could hear the pain in every syllable. Its next words supported the notion that it was in torment.

“End my suffering. I beg you.”

Even from so far away, Zeke could see that the monster was more than the slug-like collection of fat and flesh. Indeed, that was just its stomach. The rest of its body rested atop that monument to gluttony, like a tortured king on its disgusting throne. Or queen, perhaps. Despite the creature’s nudity, he couldn’t ascertain gender.

But by this point, the thing was no longer a person – if it ever was. Just a tortured monster who’d long since surrendered anything but its commitment to gluttony.

The same was true of all the other creatures he’d fought in the current circle of Hell, though none had quite reached this monster’s level.

In any case, Zeke was more than willing to grant the thing’s wishes. After all, it had planted its bulbous body in his path, and if he wanted to find his way to the next circle of Hell, he needed to at least move the creature out of his way. Or more likely, given his previous experiences, he would be forced to end its life.

Which seemed to be exactly what it wanted.

Zeke stepped forward, intending to grant its wish. However, after only a few steps, he found himself doubled over in pain as a cramp gripped his stomach. It was as if he hadn’t eaten in years – perhaps he hadn’t, considering that he had no real context for how long he’d been in the circle of gluttony – and the consequences came calling all at once.

He fell to his knees, clutching his midsection as tears flowed down his cheeks. It was a pain as intense as anything he’d ever felt, and making it worse was that the knew precisely how to stop it.

That was unique. Normally, when Zeke found himself subjected to torture, he had no control over it. He simply had to endure. Or perhaps move forward. But never did he have the ability to simply end it.

Now, he did.

And suddenly, his grotesque surroundings began to look far more appetizing. More than once, he’d seen the native creatures of the circle of gluttony tearing into the terrain like it was the best meal they’d ever enjoyed. Zeke now sympathized with their actions and attitude. He wanted to emulate them, and with every threat of his mind.

The only thing stopping him was the divine energy writhing within him. It did not possess its own will, but if it had, the energy would have shouted in outrage, attacking the unnatural hunger just as surely as Zeke normally threw himself at any obstacle he found in his path.

But it was not a sentient force. Still, it fell upon the hunger, wrapping itself around the foreign feeling and squeezing it like a boa constrictor might smother its prey. It contracted, sending tiny tendrils of divine energy into the hunger.

From the perspective of physical reality, it didn’t make a lot of sense. Hunger was not a tangible thing. Yet, neither was divine energy – at least not wholly – and so, the two concepts battled it out, and all the while, Zeke struggled to thing straight. He writhed in agony as a conceptual war unfolded within him.

The bulbous monster the size of a mansion remained thankfully still, never moving except to jiggle a bit as it convulsed in an agony all its own.

Zeke wanted nothing more than to sate his hunger, to rip into the meaty ground with his bare hands and shovel the contents into his mouth. He knew it would offer no real relief. Rationally, he understood that giving in to the hunger within him would only beget more hunger.

Yet, the temptation was still there, hammering against his mind and sending shivers of need through his wasted body.

And it was wasted. Thin beyond all comprehension, he’d become nothing more than skin and bones. If he’d been a creature who relied on the strength of his muscles to move, he’d have never been able to do so. But he was more than his flesh and bone. He was a creature of energy and will, divinity and immortal resolve. He could not surrender to the weakness gripping him any more than he would allow himself to cave to the hunger twisting his stomach into progressively more intricate knots.

It was a stalemate.

If he’d been lucid, he might have realized that he’d once again missed the point of the Circle of Gluttony. Surely, there was some means of passage that didn’t include overcoming it via brute force. But Zeke had never favored such things. He was not terrible at riddles, but when faced with a problem, his first instinct would always be to attack it head on.

And in this instance, that meant fighting the hunger rather than trying to find a clever way to banish it.

Fortunately, he was perfectly suited for just such a tactic. With the combination of divine energy and his indomitable will, Zeke wrestled with the very concept of hunger. And slowly, as days passed, he started to win.

With every tiny victory, he pushed forward – both in terms of his battle against the hunger as well as in the physical space he occupied. Inch by tiny inch, he crawled across the flesh landscape that he knew would simultaneously sate his hunger and doom him to an eternity of seeking the unattainable satisfaction of a full belly.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

For that was the point of the Circle of Gluttony.

It would never be enough. It didn’t matter how much he consumed, he would always be hungry. It was a game he was destined to lose, and the only solution was to simply not play – at least not by the rules that constrained everyone else.

Hell was not a fair place. The odds were already stacked high against him. So, he attacked the very structure of the circle, and eventually, he made progress. The hunger never abated. In fact, it only grew stronger the closer he came to the bulbous monstrosity. Yet, his efforts were not without their own rewards, and he grew stronger and more resistant with every passing moment.

At some point, he was no longer dragging himself across the fleshy landscape. Rather, he’d found his way to his hands and knees, effecting a crawl that was far more efficient than the writhing posture he’d so far employed. Some time later – he still had no clue how long – he pushed himself to his feet. His gait was more of a staggering stumble, but it was still a sight better than a crawl.

Gradually, that became a slow walk. Then, a confident stride. A jog. And finally, a sprint.

It took a relative eternity to reach that point, but by then, Zeke was an old hand at ignoring the hunger threatening to bore a hole through his stomach. But with every foot he closed on the monster, he was beset by an increase in the intensity of the hunger. It grew so powerful that, by the time he finally found his way to within striking range of the creature, his mind had become entirely blank.

Except for two things.

The hunger was there, pulsing with a life of its own. It was like an insatiable demon had taken up residence inside of him, constantly clawing for release. The only opposition was the other resident of his mind – the sheer resolve to resist. It formed a wall around the hunger, never letting it push him over the edge.

Fortifying that wall was divine energy, but if Zeke would have been of rational mind, he would have noticed that it was not the majority of its construction. Instead, it was his own willpower that made up the bulk of the bulwark. He was more responsible for his own endurance than anything divine.

Perhaps there was no difference between the two. Maybe it was just two sides of the same coin.

Whatever the case, Zeke was in no position to judge one way or the other. He could only move forward, a single goal in mind. He needed to reach whatever was on the other side of that bulbous monster. Before, he’d established that it was the way out – a gate to the next circle – but in those moments, with his feet slapping against the fleshy earth, he only knew that it was the direction he was meant to go.

That was enough.

What’s more, in his single-minded state, there was only one viable way to the other side. So, it was without even a hint of hesitation that he attacked the bulbous monster’s stomach, boring into the thing’s rubbery flesh with all the fury of a man driven mad by the circumstances enveloping him.

At first, he barely made any headway. His hands – which felt more like claws than fingers – couldn’t find any purchase. But in Zeke’s experience, persistence was the solution to almost every problem, and that attitude was so ingrained that he didn’t even need the capacity to think for it to drive his actions. He persisted in his efforts, and eventually, deep gouges began to appear on the thing’s writhing stomach.

It screamed in pain – probably not as much from the attack as it was from the hunger clearly overwhelming the monster – but Zeke paid it no mind. He was incapable of caring about the thing’s fate, and even if he could have, it wouldn’t have made any difference. He was committed to his path, and, in his addled state, it was clear that the only way to achieve his goals was to go through the monster.

So that was what he did, and eventually, his efforts bore fruit. The thing’s stomach burst like a balloon, showering him with blood, digestive juices, and the remnants of its former meals.

Many of those leftovers were still alive, too.

They were entirely unrecognizable as anything Zeke had ever seen, but they were just as committed to their freedom as Zeke was to carving a path through the gluttonous creature. So, they attacked, raking sharp claws across his body. They found little purchase. He didn’t have much flesh to rend, so they mostly only hit bone.

It was painful, but by that point, adding a few dollops of agony to the mix wasn’t enough to get his attention. He forged ahead, never stopping even for a moment. Half-digested and mostly dismembered monsters tried to latch onto him. They tried to consume his flesh with the same fervor with which they’d been eaten. But instinctively, Zeke flared his own endurance, fouling their attempts.

Soon enough, they were replaced with others of their ilk. Everything inside the monster wanted a piece of him, and they were willing to fight amongst themselves for the honor of sinking their teeth – or claws – into what was left of his flesh.

For his part, Zeke ignored them.

Not because they were incapable of stopping him. Perhaps they would have been, had he stopped even for a moment. Instead, he paid them no attention because he simply didn’t have the mental bandwidth to do so.

With the pain and hunger coursing through him, opposed only by his divine energy-fortified willpower, he simply could not think of anything but the way forward.

At some point, he started screaming.

The mostly digested creatures screamed back. And as always, the bulbous monument to gluttony joined in, begging him to finish the job.

Hours passed. Then days. Biologically, it made no sense. Spatially, it was even less logical. By all rights, he should have torn through the stomach in minutes. But for Zeke, the process felt eternal.

It was a circle of Hell all its own.

Perhaps that had always been the point. The Circle of Gluttony had never really begun until he’d clawed his way into the monster’s stomach.

Time lost any meaning, but that was nothing new. Such was the nature of Hell that his suffering would be a timeless, eternal thing. Because if it had an end, if he could see his way to the goal, it would have lost much of its effect.

Still, Zeke had already endured two circles, and his willpower had cemented itself as a result. He would not stop. He would not surrender. Not to his own urgings, and certainly not to the situation.

So he continued on, gouging his way through the mass of flesh and digestive juices, barely noticing when uncountable monsters attempted to tear him to pieces for their own mastication.

Then, finally, he burst free to the other side.

It did not come with a sense of relief. Indeed, Zeke had descended so far within himself that he didn’t think anything as he stared at the gate looming above him. Like the rest of the terrain, it was made of living, pulsing flesh.

But it was a promise of freedom.

It came with the surety that his suffering – his hunger – would come to an end. Still, it didn’t really register. By that point, he could only continue forward with the same heavy steps that had characterized his journey so far.

It was enough, and soon, he passed through the gate, leaving the Circle of Gluttony behind.