This may not make that much sense, but alas, it was what I saw.

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He sat there quietly, wondering what the fuck was going on. They had said it would happen, that it would need to happen, but he didn't listen. He never listened.

He shifted his position so that he slouched. The rope chaffed at his hands, making him grunt in agitation. Damn hippies he thought as he heard more screaming in the distance. They always screamed more as the time neared. The only problem was that the time was getting too close, and nothing had yet to happen. An internal clock ran in the minds of all who where housed in the unnamed penitentiary, allowing them ample time to grow their fears. Justice Tears was coming soon, a thought that made him grimace as the atmosphere hung thickly about his head.

He struggled against his binds once more, for the urge to see if he could reach out and touch the thick air was just too great. He grunted, but made no sound louder. He would not give Them satisfaction. Smirking softly to himself, heavy boots rang out in protest against the concrete. They echoed down the corridor, bashing into the minds of the prisoners. It signaled the death chant, a low beat that blended seamlessly with the every increasing screams. Thoughts festered and blistered in his mind, erupting with brilliant hope, yet each popped as the boots slammed down with defiant progress. A metallic taste lovingly gripped his mouth, the flavor of which seemed to caress his fear further.

He knew they had to be coming for him; all the others had left. Under the spell of darkness, they had been introduced to their bloody end. His eyes fixed themselves on the mold covered wall,almost lovingly tracingthe well remembered patterns. A white light flittered through under the door, mocking him with its purity. He wished that some of its grace would reach out far enough to touch the tips of his bare feet before he died, but the line proved unmoving. His gaze now glued to this line marking the end of darkness, a spark of hope flickered once more as something flashed across his silver eyes. A shape corrupted the line, his line, making it broken, crossing the boundaries of all things sacred. Rage boiled up in body, his mind too numb to hold such a strong emotion. A chorus of deep laughter ripped through the already delicate membrane of tolerance. His rage grew too great to control as a scream burst forth from his chapped lips.

A louder laugh exploded amongst the boot wearers, making the chained one growl. The door opened on this lost soul, revealing a young boy. Not more than sixteen, he showed the signs of knowing much more than many a man amounts to. He grinned evilly at the Boots, unable to look at their faces. To him they were inhuman, a thing, one entity, all connected; no heart, no face, no soul. The rage burned lower as the ropes soaked up the blood that had begun to flow from his struggles.

The Boots came and untied their prisoner and grabbed him by the hair. His lips set in a thin line, a sense of understanding flashed from these unfeeling eyes. Justice Tears.

Boots dragged him down the hallway, their shadows thrown against the wall making them truly appear connected. The blackness cut out the light lines of the other prisoners, making some scream and others laugh. Most were silent as they heard the boots hit the concrete, followed by the almost silent padding of bare feet. They knew what the sound that was too close to silence meant.

The ill- humored light burned in flashes before the prisoner's eyes as the stench filtered through his nostrils. His scalp ached from where their grubby fingers entangled themselves in his matted hair. As the shaded groupreached the end of this death chant, silence crept over his shoulder in such a certain finality that the boy had to resist screaming. A key turned in the beaten lock, slowly, tantalizingly, a small piece of metal that would show him his fate. The key clicked, making union with some unseen provider, causing the door to open on their mutual decision.

He blinked once, twice, three times, before it finally hit him. This is the end, he thought bitterly, right before they pushed him down.

He landed smooth on his face, causing blood to creep out upon the floor. The sight entranced him; he couldn't pull away from the red blood crimson making its way among the floor, a deep sooty color shocking out from the uniform of gray. There was nothing to see in the plain room, a room so drenched in continuity that the boy reverted his attention to the blood as it slowly oozed into pools of sorrow.

His chest choked with emptiness as the floor of the room soaked up his unwilling offering. The pores of the clean slated floor gripped greedily at the heterogeneous mixture, pulling it, sucking it, making the walls seem to sigh with pleasure.

Boots laughed.

His head pounding, he forced himself into a kneeling position as more blood from his wrists fell to the lusty floor. His vision spun in vibrant arcs of darkness. His mouth sucked the musty atmosphere for air, trying in vain for freshness.

A tremor reverberated throughout the room as Boots all took a step backwards towards the door. The boy shuddered, unsure as to whether it was their movement that had made his whole body tremble.

He snapped his gaze to the wall at his side as a small scratching sound assaulted his ears. The wall stretched forth with an erotic moan as what appeared to be a talon pushed at the fragile barrier. Sweat dripped down from his temples as his eyes widened. More fingernails scratched and pulled from behind the wall as a scream erupted in his brain.

A door slammed from somewhere behind him as the scream grew shrill. He cupped his ears hard; blood seeped from between his fingers as his attention took in the ripping of stone. Another scream joined the one in his brain. It burst from his lips like a plea as he uttered a cry that needed no words.

The things sensed his distress as faces appeared as grotesque masks against the plainness. Vomiting, the boy pushed himself away from the wall. The screaming increased as he began to claw at his ears, tearing away bits of flesh, leaving gapping holes. All the sounds still penetrated thisravaged flesh as he began to weep anew.

Leaning against a wall to the right of the soon to be monstrosity, he watched as the creatures pushed, seeing their silhouettes of putrid awakening. Tears streamed down past his face as he felt one stronger among the rest, felt the others calling it's name with seduction. His heart tracked its progress through the unseen masses, jerking violently to it's pull. Wiping spittle from his lower lip, one face pushed out farther than the rest.

The screams stopped.

Life stopped.

To the neck was as far as it managed to stretch in that moment. Another to stop, and another to cock it's head to the side. Death's silhouette. Grinning, the face whipped to the side, giving proof to pure terror. As escaping stone eyes assulted his, the screams started again. Hopeful screams. Pulling himmself up,the boy ran to the doorway, banged on the door with his grimy fists, screaming as loud as his heart could stand, yet no one answered. He gasped aloud as sucking sound echoed throughout the room.

They had gotten through.

He froze instantly, his now bloody fists dropping to his sides. Biting his lip, he stood still as he heard a soft dragging sound behind him. His imagination ran wild, projecting terrors that made him piss himself. A growl caressed his back and sent shards of pain towards his tattered ears.

Against his will, the boy turned around. A moan escaped his throat. The thing dragged himself forward from the large tear in the wall. Things stalked along the shadows that seemed to flash in and out of his imagination. Their movements hesitant, the walls stretching forth with their struggled musings, the last hold on his sanity threatened to snap. They cloaked their presence hungrily as they tried to get near his life force. Some still lingered near the fissure, for the stench of death is always mixed with shame. More tears made a river of lost innocence down his face as the thing progressed slowly, leaving a trial of blood behind. The...that thing was...

Pus and blood hung in clotted masses from the thing's rotting frame. One leg was bent at a strange angle, causing it to be dragged along with a calloused softness. Too twisted to remember, the face held no real shape. Pitless eyes glowed with a strange promise that beckoned to the boy, called to him, wanted him. A grin wormed its way onto the gaping hole that could only be a mouth. Harsh ragged breaths stole away the air's freshness and expelled only poison. One arm lay bent, pulled up against its chest as the other reached out. Clothes hung about it in tatters that were soaked with blood.

The boy tried his hardest not to cry out.

This boy had helped the light, and he had been punished. He had been told that this was the price to pay for helping the enemy. It was needed to re-claim his soul for their own. Yet he hadn't listened.

He never listened.

The thing came upon the trembling boy and reached out his decaying limb and caressed the boy's face. Like a lover, the thing pulled the boy close and buried its flaky face into his neck. The boy tried to cry out, but it was reduced to a hard moan. Sharp teeth pierced virgin flesh as their souls and fates joined and intertwined.

Fighting, light against darkness, they stood suspended in their embrace, one of the light, and one of the dark. Intertwined, they made one thing of yin and yang, soon to shudder. Life forces twisting and hissing, one final blow before the boy grew weak. His energy was absorbed slowly, a delight that shivered.

The thing pulled away as the boy slumped over. It kept a tight grip around the boy's body as it felt the fresh food swirl throughout his thoughts and his flesh.

Justice Tears, the entity whispered before dropping the empty vesseland backing away. Justice Tears.