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In the fires of hell a lone man sits. resting his hand on his leg. looking at the embers that scorch his skin. smiling softly in the pain as he rivals in the sensation.
"finally" he thinks to himself in a tone of glee."I feel something! im still alive!... you hear that Father!! im still alive!!"he finishes as a fresh wave of molten ice rips over his veins shattering his state of joy as his vocal cords rip themselves asunder in his screaming. a minuet goes by and he turns horse. his screaming only bringing more pain as he can feel his blood trickle down into his lungs and stomach. three more and his voice shuts down completely. soon no air enters nore leaves his body as his blood gurgles from his lips. his mouth till held wide open in agony, and pain. his body writhes around. smacking his limbs up against the chilled brimstone. sending icicle after icicle through his body. a few moments later his mind shuts off and he lies dormant on the now frozen slab of embers that once filled his heart with joy in feeling something. for when his eyes open once again he will start this day over once again.
"what time is it?" he wonders looking around the room that is light by oil lamps and candles that never burn out. letting out a long sigh he rubs his face as he sits up. "thats right..." He comments openly, taking hold of a silk bath robe and wraps it around his near naked body, with only a few bandages covering up his flesh that has surly healed by now. "The sun does not rise here. only the moon. coated in our blood, and stained with the scars of the demon known as our god here." walking into his bath room he looks around the large and spacious room. with a pure white bath tub that looks like it could fit 50 plus himself. standing about five feet deep at some points he turns for the single shower. a crystal clear glass sheet stares at him. gold holds the borders in place. an assortment of flowers and mythical beasts, carved and filled by the finest craftsmen adorns the sheet of near solid fluid. etched in all manner of prestigious gems and metals. it would be a kingly door. but he pulls it open as if it were simple rotting wood. flingin his clothing off he steps in getting cleaned up as best you could with a shower of virgins blood, and acid. but he smiles as if he were standing in a steaming hot shower. the fumes acting like drugs to him he smiles like a wild demon as he leaves the shower, a still raw coat of skin slings to his body as what was left of him sits in a vat at the bottom of his shower. boiling away into a black juice that each man woman and spawn of Satan drinks like it were the finest of wines or hardest of liquors. a celebration is held tonight, no rhyme, no reason. simply because they can. decency and morals are vacant here, only lust, greed, gluttony, are as rampant as the innumerable people dance around the fires. the sweat is their exotic drugs. the feeling of arousal in their partners acts like a brush fire that soon fills the night with the sounds of rapture. but still that one man stands up after it all. not caring of his utter lack of clothing as he stammers his way through the millions of bodies that lay on the ground just as he once did. finding a perch on a stone he looks out across the sea of tantalizing flesh. knowing all before him is ready for the taking and he could pend all eternity pleasing himself on them. and for a thousand yeas he did his best to ignore his failure. tonight he drinks his first bit of water in a millennial. coughing like it was poison he pukes it back up watching as it eats away at the rocks like venom on skin. "All this is nothing" He thinks. looking back at the fires of hell as they erupt to punish those who still sleep. "we all cope differently i guess... some try to sleep their eternal lies away, other do as i once did. trying to sex, and pleasure it into oblivion. ... but now look at me. nothing. not the touch of a young woman that has just come into her prime. nor the feel of her silken smooth skin bring a smile to my face. nothing of fine wines or godly foods. slate my hunger... glory was once mine. i held it in my hand as if it were my love. but just as her i cast it aside for the pleasures of the world. wine women and song. was it worth it?... back then i would have smiled stating hell yes. out of my arrogance and pride i fell to the one place that i was among my own kind. twisted and pirvirted souls we all think its a game for the first hundred years. then the food turns to ash, wine to poison. our mind rot and soon the only thing we can feel ever is the pain of hells fire that keeps us from sleeping. in the dark of night when we wonder on our own we wail and moan in pain and suffering. wishing we were wiser in our mortal lives. begging for one more chance into the star flooded sky's knowing that no one is listing now. we are the aliens now. forsaken and forgotten.
then from behind the man comes his only reprieve, after his feet have been bleeding for miles and his lungs are filled to the brim with ash, and his skin feels as if it is a flame, "Its time for your rest my boy." hisses the voice as the man falls into a pit that never ends and then he finds himself in that furnace, his skin egnights into a roaring fire. leaving him chard as he rests on the white hot burning embers once again grinning in the pain that tells him he is still alive. that he might one day get his chance at salvation.
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