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Told as a horror stories among omi Gods to be the inventor and maker of Hell itself, he resides in the core of his realm along with his army of "Hell's Justice" that will strike when the balance is disturped.
He is ranked as the most powerful being to ever exist and will never die, is father to thousands of offsprings of seven rows of different types of gods, but still have someting like twenty mortal's worthy to be his friends.
All alternatives, versions, religions, believes & realities of Hell is part of his realm, and all of those bad & true evil will get their punishment while the good ones gets their rewards.
His army including the airforce & navy is like that (last count) of around one hundred trillion beings, ten of the most successful divisions are led by:
James Dreegon [Species: Anthropomorphic Dragon/Dinosaur, Rank: Field Marshal - 3 Star] of Squadron - 765.
William Rommel the 3rd [species: homo sapiens, rank: field marshal - 2 star] of squadron - 45801.
T3C-H [Species: Biological Robot, Rank: General - 3 Star] of Squadron - 404.
Alextrassa Nebula [Species: Togruta, Rank: Field Marshal - 2 Star] of Squadron - 696.
Toby Steam [Species: Neanderthal (Numan), Rank: General - 2 Star] of Squadron - 4407713.
Egon Olsen the 4th [species: homo sapiens, rank: general - 3 star] of squadron - 19251203.
Aisha Star [species: anthropomorphic cheetah, rank: general - 3 star] of squadron - 60860.
Ray [Species: Anthropomorphic T-Rex, Rank: General - 1 Star] of Squadron - 9357025.
Steven Supreme [species: homo sapiens, rank: general - 3 star] of squadron - 110196307.
Duncan Lion'feild [Species: Anthropomorphic Phoenix, Rank: Field Marshal - 2 Star] of Squadron - 8020005.
Hell Roaring Lake is nestled among thick trees at 7,407 feet, where the canyon branches into distinct alpine basins. The Finger of Fate, an elegant tower of solid granite, stands as a sentinel above the north shore of the lake. Long fins of glacially-polished slabs descend from the Imogene basin to the south shore of the lake. The hike from the lower trailhead offers nice creekside camping for a shorter trip. Hell Roaring Lake is an alpine lake in Custer County, Idaho, United States, located in the Sawtooth Mountains in the Sawtooth National Recreation Area. The lake is approximately 13.3 miles (21.4 km) southwest of Stanley. The lake can be accessed from State Highway 75 in the Sawtooth Valley.
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Theme: "A Letter from the Alphabet"
I have two little cousins that love to hear me telling them horror stories. The last time they visited, I invented this story, which I quite liked, so I decided to write it down and make this photo.
It was also really fun taking this shot. We actually went in some woods near midnight with a candle and a girl wrapped in a blanket. People should have thought all kinds of stuff!
Thank you so much for being such a weirdo with me, Giovanna!
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England, 1863. It was a late winter night. The cold wind blew through the large stone corridors of the Brocklehurst mansion. Not much could be seen, once several of the candles responsible for lightning the place were already dead. The brightest place in the whole house was the west-wing living room, inhabited by two siblings sitting by the fireplace, each one involved by a thick, brown blanket. Annabelle and Jonah were completely by themselves. Even though the family once was very influent and rich in the town, it all ended when their mother mysteriously passed away. Her body was found in the woods surrounding the house, with no apparent wound or signs of struggle. Her health was perfect and some sudden illness was very unlikely. Some would say her soul was taken by the dark spirits of the forest, as told by an old legend a lot of people refused to believe.
Since her death, the Lord Brocklehurst lost all his will to live. The businesses ran by generations in the family slowly decayed to almost inexistent levels. The mansion, once always brilliant and filled with maids, servants and delightful balls for the aristocracy, was now completely abandoned and infested with spiders, rats and dust. Some would say the Lord even lost his savvy. It was common enough to him to depart with no warning, leaving his children behind.
“I wonder when dad will come back this time.” Annabelle said to the air, clearly not paying attention anymore to the book her brother was reading for her. Jonah stopped, looked at the girl for a few seconds and closed the book soundly, making a cloud of dust rise from it.
“Don’t wait up too cheerfully.” he said, standing up and leading himself to the opposite side of the big room to give the book back to an immense bookcase filled with stories and tales, when the sharp scream of a girl made him drop it, as darkness engulfed everything.
“Calm down, Ann! What happened?!” said the tall young man, half-closing his eyes trying to adapt to the murk.
“The fireplace… It… It just went off out of nowhere!” she answered, with little sobs in her voice. The boy then found his way back to her side, making her skip a heartbeat when he hugged her. After calming Annabelle down, Jonah went to the next room and took a few half used candles.
“I’m sure it was just a wind gust.”
“It was not!” she answered, still with a trembling voice. “I was right here, I didn’t feel anything! It just… I think I saw something red in the fire and then it extinguished.” A chill went through her spine.
“Don’t be silly. Here, look.” He pointed to the fireplace. “The firewood just withered. We need some more.”
“But we ran out of it, brother… These were the last ones. It should have endured through the night…”
“Then… I’ll get more in the woods.”
A deep silence took place. Even though the stories were hard to believe, they didn’t enjoyed going in there, especially after their mother incident. But there was no option. They would definitely freeze without any fire.
“You stay here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He kissed Annabelle’s forehead, messed her hair, took the lamp and left the room. She heard him getting the axe, opening the huge front door and closing it.
Except for her own breathing and some whispers of the wind, the silence was absolute. She waited there, wrapped in the blanket, staring the nothingness.
(…)
The clock ticked for way too long. Something was definitely wrong. She was really scared, yes, but it scared her even more to lose the only one she had left. The last one who cared for her. Some of the wolves in the woods could have attacked him, even though it wasn’t common for them to come close to the house. She took the blanket, put the candle in a white porcelain saucer and left.
It was a full moon, but the clouds covered it almost completely. The leafless, lifeless trees danced conducted by the wind - a macabre corpse dance. The branches cracking with the movement created the eeriest symphony. Annabelle took a deep breath, swallowed the fear and went down the stairs which leaded to the wood’s entrance. Walking carefully amongst the branches laying in the ground, she started to look for her beloved brother. She couldn’t scream or make too much noise, because that could call the wolves’ attention. So the girl continued going deeper in the forest, with her path lightened by a simple candle, whispering Jonah’s name. She walked and walked with no sign of him. Then, a scream echoed in the woods. Annabelle froze, and so did the wind. It stopped completely, putting an end to the orchestra it leaded. She then realized she was way deeper inside the woods than any sane person would be. The trees were so dense she couldn’t even see the dim moon’s light hiding behind the clouds. All the available light was coming from the candle.
Then, with her ear now left in peace, she began to hear, far away, a gentle low voice calling for her.
“Annabelle…”
The girl ignored at first, but the calling was then repeated, a little louder. She recognized it coming from the southwest and began following it. As she went closer and closer to the source of her brother’s voice, it got louder, although it still was a whisper. Walking a little faster as she thought she would finally rendezvous, a glade revealed itself.
“Anabelle…”
She heard from the other side of it. Walking cautiously, she kept following the voice.
“Annabelle…”
When the girl reached the center, a weird feeling made her stop. She felt someone right behind her. She could feel its presence… Its heat. The hot breath right on her neck.
“ANNABELLE.”
It was no longer her brother’s voice. It was a scratchy, cold and rough voice, the mix of an old man in his deathbed with the growl of a dreadful monster. She screamed and began to run desperately, leaving behind the blanket right where the thing talked to her. The girl didn’t look back; there was no need to see whatever it was that was there. And this way she continued, running as fast as she could, crying and protecting the light – her guide.
After running for what she thought being a few miles, Annabelle found herself in another glade. As the weak light revealed the path in front of her, she saw something. It looked like Jonah lying in the ground. Desperately, she ran to it and when tried to hug it, the girl realized it was just a blanket. Her own blanket. The same one she left exactly there in her first escape. “I had ran in circles… Stupid tricky forest!”, she thought. Then she continued walking, determined to leave that dark hell and ask for help finding Jonah. She walked into miles, feeling devastated and confused, when another glade was found. The same nightmare was repeated. Again, she was in the same place, even though she walked a straight path. Nearly exhausted, she couldn’t give up… Not yet...
She ran.
(…)
For the third time, there she was again. The same glade. Annabelle picked up the blanket, wrapped herself inside it, sat down and started to cry.
“It will be alright…” she tried to comfort herself. “I’ll just wait here until dawn comes… Then I’ll find my way back.” She thought of her brother. Would he be trapped just like she was? Maybe he just couldn’t find his way back. Yes, they would find each other again. They would be together again. They would.
She stayed there waiting for the time pass by. Obviously, she couldn’t sleep – her nerves wouldn’t allow her. So, with a low, faint voice, she began to hum the song her mother used to sing to her in stormy nights. Her heart was calmed. She felt like her mother was there for her.
Suddenly, a bell rang far away, making Annabelle goggle her eyes on its direction. Eleven times that bell was ringed. It was the town’s old clock, telling everyone that the eleventh hour has come.
“Just a few more hours… Everything will be fine.” she thought.
A cold, lonely and singing hour later, the clock once again made its announcement. The girl counted the bangs.
Midnight had come.
Together with the twelfth strike, hundreds of crows flew from the woods in a skyward direction, creating a terribly loud noise that made her hide inside her blanket. Breathing fast, heart pounding in her throat, all she could think about for comfort was her brother’s face. She would find him. All would just become a terrible night dark. She prayed.
When everything became quiet again, she slowly began to uncover her eyes. Lifting the blanket, she discovered a pair of blood colored spheres staring at her. Her heart stopped. A death cold breath invaded the blanket, freezing her spine.
“ANNABELLE!”
Darkness.
To this very day, these woods are haunted. No one dares to enter the place. It is said that every full moon, exactly at midnight, it’s possible to hear a lonely lullaby coming from the woods. If it’s dark enough, a wandering dim candle light, held by the poor Annabelle, can also be seen.
Jonah found his way back into the mansion that night, finding it empty. Nothing had happened to him. He came back in a few minutes, just like he said he would.
The young man and the entire town searched for Annabelle, but she or her body were never found. She is still trapped there, for all eternity, looking for him, aided only by a candle. The clock she hears every hour always tell that the midnight has come. And it will never go away.
On a ridge overlooking the Patapsco River and adjacent to the Ilchester Paper Mill sits the ruins of St. Mary’s College. The former religious school, which opened in the 1890s, prepared hundreds of young men for the seminary until it was eventually moved to a nearby facility in the 1950s. The remaining structures were abandoned, and what little remains continues to be reclaimed by the forest.
Hell is a group of short, black, limestone formations located on Grand Cayman. It is in West Bay.
The area is about the size of half a football field.
Visitors are not permitted to walk on the limestone formations but a couple of viewing platforms are provided.
We visited 'Hell' in April 2018.
Canon 400D, natural light+EX 580II
Session: 02.08.2009 r.
Model: Evenstar
Copyright © 2009 Grzesiek "NOMAD"
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Taken at the Newport Motorcycle Rally at Newport on the Levee, Newport, Kentucky.
This is an emblem I noticed on one of the bikes.
(English follow) Cette image est inspirée de la chanson « Hell Nep Avenue » du chanteur compositeur français Francis Cabrel. Dans un quartier mal famé, peuplé de gens pauvres, on joue du blues pour exprimer sa tristesse, sa misère, sa solitude. Et on attend le bus d’où jamais ne descends la femme aimée et perdue. Mon petit chat exprime cette attente. Chose amusante, le titre « Hell Nep avenue » est un jeu de mots de Cabrel : « elle n’est pas venue » peut se prononcer à l’anglaise par Hell Nep Avenue .....
Il n’y a pas de ciel par dessus de la Hell Nep avenue....
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xjTfYLYcbaI
This image is inspired from the song "Hell Nep Avenue" of the French singer-songwriter Francis Cabrel. In a seedy part of a town, inhabited by poor people, people plays the Blues to express sadness, misery, loneliness. And the bluesman wait for the bus from which never get off the woman he loved and lost. My little cat expresses this expectation.
Funny thing, the title "Hell Nep Avenue" is a word game of Cabrel: " Elle n’est pas venue » (in french : She did not come)" can be pronounced the same way as Hell Nep Avenue with an english accent
There is no sky above Hell Nep Avenue....
The Russian cover to my comic book "The Guide to Hell" published in Russia by Comfederation.
Originally funded by Wildseed Studios.
We are still seeking an English language release.
**TOUCH PIC TO ZOOM DETAIL**
Inkling // From Hell // Mark of the Beast // Evo X
Inkling // From Hell // Property Of // Evo X
Inkling // From Hell // Broken Heart // Evo X
Inkling // From Hell // Brow Slice // Evo X
Inkling // From Hell // Cheek Slice // Evo X
@ THE DARKNESS EVENT ~ TP~ maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Zen%20Soul/47/244/3201
.:Inkling:. Sinner Chest Carving // Gift
TP TO INKLING ~ maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Callistei/40/85/2251
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For ther items used see my blog
www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/preview/390136717468102280...
'Hells office equipment ! ! ! !' On Black
Exposure: 30 sec (30)
Aperture: f/10
Focal Length: 50 mm
ISO Speed: 100
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Ghost Rider's 1969 Dodge Charger (aka Hell Charger) from Marvel's series Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
More pics and building instructions are available on my Rebrickable page.
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The Hells Angels Motorcycle Club (HAMC) is a worldwide one-percenter motorcycle club whose members typically ride Harley-Davidson motorcycles and is considered an organized crime syndicate by the U.S. Department of Justice. In the United States and Canada, the Hells Angels are incorporated as the Hells Angels Motorcycle Corporation. Common nicknames for the club are the "H.A.", "Red & White", and "81" (H and A being the eighth and first letters of the alphabet).
In order to become a Hells Angels prospect, candidates must have a valid driver's license, a motorcycle over 750cc and have the right combination of personal qualities. It is said the club excludes child molesters and individuals who have applied to become police or prison officers.
After a lengthy, phased process, a prospective member is first deemed to be a 'hang-around', indicating that the individual is invited to some club events or to meet club members at known gathering places.
If the hang-around is interested, he may be asked to become an 'associate', a status that usually lasts a year or two. At the end of that stage, he is reclassified as 'prospect', participating in some club activities, but not having voting privileges while he is evaluated for suitability as a full member. The last phase, and highest membership status, is 'Full Membership' or 'Full-Patch'.
And I am happy even riding at the far back of this clan because I am watching their back.