Excerpt: No title as of yet

Epilogue:
The warm wind rushes past his falling form. He has a vague sense of danger, but cannot for the life of him remember why. He stares up at the earthy ceiling as it rises away from him. The air around him grows warmer with each passing second. He forces himself to roll and immediately regrets it. Below him, rushing up at incredible speeds is what appears to be an impossibly large, in both girth and width, burning lake. He puts his hands in front of his eyes only to find they are transparent. He tries to scream, successfully, as he continues to plummet. His own scream seems odd and airy as if not even human.
The lake gets closer and the air around him gets hotter and more stifling, yet as bad as that sensation is, it pales in comparison to the sounds which now assault his ears. Screaming, gnawing of teeth, ghastly and ghostly yells of pain and screams for mercy, permeates the air around him. Though still at a great distance, the sound washes over him sending terror through his consciousness. The lake grows closer. Unable to think of any other response, he decides to scream again, this time unable to hear his own vocalized horror as the noise of the millions of screams rising from below drown him out.
The lake now stretches as far as he can see in all directions. He is unable to look away as it grows ever closer. The waves of fire undulate and ebb in what can only be described as hideous. As it grows larger and he falls closer, the heat begins to burn him. He looks once more to his ghostly hands and a new horror takes hold as he watches the ethereal flesh begin to burn. He can feel it as pain erupts all over him. Pain, unlike any he has ever felt. He breathes in to cry out again only to have his mouth fill with heat which pours into his ghostly body, burning him from the inside. His lifeless eyes roll into his head as his maddened mind begins to beg for merciful death. The pain intensifies as he continues to fall, but he is not granted mercy. His mind does not shutdown, shock does not grant him merciful release from the torturous spasms that now erupt through his falling form.
Just when it feels as though the horror could not be any worse, he notices something. Through the pain, his terror racked mind realizes something about the lake before him. The waves that undulate in those odd ghastly patterns, something is not right about them. Besides the fact they are burning with an unholy fire, that is. He attempts to focus, anything to try and push past the pain. Then it dawns on him. They are not waves at all. Lying out before him are millions upon millions of burning people, each piled higher and higher upon each other, reaching up, clawing and grabbing at anything in an attempt to pull them to the top. His mind, unable to register such a site attempts to shut down. It fails.
With a grotesque, slurping splash, he hits a mass of struggling bodies sending him, along with them, down into the mass of tortured souls. Hands immediately claw at him, rending his ghostly flesh from his body as the fires engulf him. Everywhere against him he sees, smells and feels the burning bodies around him. They pull at him and try to climb over him. Panic takes over as their dripping, burning flesh pours into his screaming mouth and he kicks, claws, bites, and pulls at anything he can. His only purpose is now to get to the top of the pile. Only there could there possibly be relief. He struggles, the pain growing stronger and more maddening with each movement. He kicks one body in the face, feeling with satisfaction as its nose caves in beneath his blistered and burning foot. He digs his boney fingers into the calf of the one pressed again his shoulders and rakes at it, causing its owner to lose grip and fall past him down into the lower masses.
Hours seem to pass. He can feel the difference in temperature as he climbs higher up the burning mass. It does not become comfortably cooler, but enough to make it a destination worth reaching. He pulls and suddenly finds himself pulling up above the withering masses beneath him. Pain stabs at him in all directions, but he had won. He had reached the top. Those beneath him wanted to be where he was. He would never let them. He looked up to cackle a pained scream of laughter. That is when the falling body hit him, horror in its face as it crushed into him causing him to lose his hold and fall again into the squirming goo of constantly burning, but never dying bodies. Claws ripped at him again as hundreds, maybe thousands, rushed over him and pulled him deeper into the burning abyss. Realization of what his eternity now holds sinks in and he screams again, only to get a mouth full of foot and finger.