Escalator To Hell

The sky is black. The ground is wet. The faces of people are miserable. It's a dull morning in London, and you're entering an underground station, with many others, like germs entering a wound. After all, the underground is essentially just a sewer for people. They drain in off the streets, and are quickly washed away underground, with the accompanying smell being a mixture of different bodily excretions.

Anyway, you've entered the station, and paid for the displeasure. Now you're the other side of the gates, and joining the crowd that surrounds the entrance onto the escalator. The mob slowly filters on, thanks to the guidance of a man in a florescent jacket who brings order to the anarchy. You step on and are taken on a long journey, which takes you deeper and deeper into the subterranean world that exists below the streets of London.

So, you stand on your step, silently wedged behind a man with dandruff, next to a woman with a large suitcase resting against your knee, and in front of a snorting being. You look around, and the walls capture your attention. You can see the grinning, colourful and posed faces. Are they advertising the latest West End musical, or are they windows that you can see trapped souls through? It's so hard to tell.

You continue to stand there, still and emotionless. Your mind is wandering, and it's dreading what you're going see once you reach the bottom; when you reach hell. As you approach the bottom, you look down at what lays ahead, and spot a vile infestation. A swarm of… people. Yuk.

You step off, and make your way onto a platform. Check it's the right one. Double check. Triple check. The train is arriving. Check again. *beepbeepbeepbeep* Quick, catapult yourself on before the doors shut. Now you find yourself precariously hanging inside the carriage, unsure whether your body is going to be sliced by the closing doors.

The doors are shut, and all your limbs are still attached. Result. Now you're stood intimately close to a stranger, who's face you're yet to see. Look around you. Look at the people joining you in the immense heat of the criminally overcrowded train.

Notice that man sat there? The overweight one. See how he's starring at the two women sat opposite. One wearing a risqué short skirt to show off her never-ending legs. The other with a blouse so tight, it barely covers her mountainous peaks. The man sits there, with beads of sweat forming on his excited brow, slowly eating a pasty. Dinner and a show. Gluttony and lust.

Oh, but what is the buxom lady doing now? She's getting her mirror out of her bag, and checking her make-up is all still in place. Oh, that lipstick just needs a bit of a touch up. And is that faint red mark on her chin the birth of a spot? Better put some more foundation on, just in case. So, she sits there, looking at herself, lips pouted, between telling her long-legged friend about what an amazing birthday she had at the weekend. Pride.

Look down the other side of the carriage. That woman, fast asleep, sat next to the man with his legs open so incredibly wide. He must have testicles the size of Mercury and Venus. In fact, all those people down that bottom half are sat there, all trying their best to avoid the pregnant woman stood in their midst. Sloth and greed.

Along with the standing pregnant lady, every standing passenger on the carriage is stalking the people sat down. You're all like lions, watching the zebras, ready to jump as soon as one strays from the herd. You stand there, back aching from carrying a heavy bag and having not sat down since you woke up. You're envy.

The train then begins to slow down, eventually stopping in the dark, unlit tunnel. Everyone starts to fidget. Then the voice comes over the speakers: "I'm sorry to inform you, but this train has been delayed due to a person falling in front of a train." A chorus of groans fills the carriage. Everyone, you included, turns their thoughts not to the loss of a life, but the selfishness of their act. People start to mutter about how their days are ruined, and how people who commit suicide in this manner really make you angry. Wrath.

Now you're never escaping Hell...