I opened the book, wishing to read its pages. Expecting, with naïve hope, that its pages would be to my liking. They were not. It was engrossing, to be sure, but it spoke of treachery, horrors, death of the sun and the soul. I hardly noticed how the vast room began to turn dark, I was too obsessed with the bloody pages and vicious letters. As I progressed through the moldy text, I became aware of pain upon my paling skin. My flesh turned to the unhealthy color of maggots. Suddenly I could read no more. My mind clawed at my soul, trying to force my body to act and acknowledge more of the vile wording, but it would not comply. Slashes began to appear across my body, strange patterns appearing on my chest, face, and forearms. Blackened blood began to ooze like thick slime from my body. Twitching uncontrollably, I lapsed into an unconscious daze. The nightmares I experienced there are too horrible to describe. It was an intangible horror with such depth… If I had retained control of my body during that time….certainly I would have ended my life. Unfortunately, I did not get that opportunity. I awoke in a frigid pool of my own sweat, blood sticking to my cloths and pooling upon the floor. My graying, wild hair lay in piles around my corpse. But… I was alive. It couldn’t have been my corpse. I was not in my right mind… I must not be able to recall correctly, but I remember descending into hell.

Upon the awakening of my corpse, the room soon became emblazoned with fire. It began slowly, flickering flame spurting from the cracked stone floor like small insects. Within seconds it burst into a holocaust of ravaging fury. Then indeed, charred insects swarmed through the room, flying furiously untouched by the fires. The bit at my eyes and crawled into my skin. My body was devoured from the inside as the outside burned. I tried to scream, but my lungs were full of writhing antennae and cleaving pincers.

Again I awoke, though I was never allowed the luxury of sleep. I merely passed from one death unto another. Stone walls and floor became visible to my fingers. It was a hall, I do remember, or something of the sort. I was at the top, and it simply spiraled downwards. There was no where else to go, so I traveled the passage, hairless and in agony. My skin was swollen from insect bites, as were my lungs. I could barely breathe, and I could not see. I had yet to figure whether my eyes had be swollen shut, or if they had been lacerated beyond repair. I could not see… but I could feel the air getting hotter as I walked down. I followed the warmth like a brilliant light, moving forward even as my skin began to blister. Strangely, my memory began to disappear. I could not recall the insects, or the demonic dreams from my dazed state. Sharp, shrill laughter echoed around me as the heat flared. My skin began to crack and burn, as I cackled with the thousands of voices. Upon the sound of a great, shattering glass, I lost all control. I flailed wildly, impaling myself upon the sharp things. I grabbed at razors, slashing with them all upon my body. Faster and faster I moved, without fatigue. I could not tire, I very nearly flayed my entire body. I would have succeeded. However, my contorted, screaming frame was suddenly impaled upon a great metal hook, and I became paralyzed. I was then eviscerated as the hook was forcibly ripped from me. I fell. Motionless upon the ground, the fatigue finally hit me. With pain suddenly dripping through my form like daggers, I became aware of nothing else. I prayed for death to claim me, so that I could give myself to oblivion at last. No such favor was granted.

The insects came again. Now I could not even fend them off, for my muscles would not move. Helpless on the ground, I became a feast for millions of crawling flies. I reached for the book which I had read so long ago, but either it was nowhere to be found, or my arm simply was not working. I cried inwardly as the meat upon my bones became assimilated into the black, writhing mass atop my body. After an eternity of suffering, they left with a vicious buzzing sound that exploded and resounded upon my mind. I was then nothing more than bone. My knowledge and strength had been devoured by that black plague.

Finally I arose, mindless, only vaguely aware of the rhythmic clinking of my bones as I walked. The hollow depths of my skull could perceive and react, but not truly comprehend. I was forced to follow Him; without any will to resist I followed His will. I committed black, twisted, atrocious things, all in the name of His plan. I followed. And every day I died.

Then, upon the shining wings of blood and vengeance, my love, my love came to me. She freed me from His wretched will. Able to think, to act, to comprehend, my soul burned with rage. With the help of my love, I repaid him tenfold for my pain. His screams still echo upon the waves of eternity. Now I am free. Free to act. I now commit the atrocities, with the help of my love. Not because I am forced, but because I want to. I want to.