Spoiler! :
Your name is Betsy; you think you must be dead. This must be what Hell and damnation is like. You see hundreds of flames lick the side of your little room. Something is strange, you notice, nothing is actually burning, it’s just scorching. The fire is spreading to a lone chair in front of you, empty. You blink; someone is there. A man about your age, the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, is sitting in front of you; yet, there is a strange roughness to him that also scares you. Startled, you try to stand. That was a mistake. You feel something like a hundred needles pressing on all your joints; you can hear your knee bones grinding together like maul-aligned gears. You would try to rub your legs were it not for your whole upper body feeling the same way. Your fingers start to freeze in place; you can watch the ugly grey ice crystals form around each finger and spread up to your wrists.
Moving your crusty eyes back up to the man feels like rubbing raw skin on sandpaper, but you have to get one more glimpse of the rugged handsome man with the enticing green eyes. When your eyes finally reach his’, you watch the green turn to black; the white darkens so much that you start to question yourself if he really has eyes at all. Watching, you can see smoke start to pour out of his sockets and around his face, glowing with a tint of red to match the fire spreading towards him. You can feel the crust in your own eyes harden to concrete; you can’t avert your gaze from this horrific image. You have nothing to do, but watch. The man’s flesh starts melting off his bones, before long, he’s a sitting picture of Hell itself. His skin has melted into a pile of goo on the floor. Racking your mind, you learn that you can’t even remember what he looked like before… this. You only remember that he looked much better than this bloody skeleton across from you.
“Am I losing my mind too?” You briefly think. Your thoughts are muddled; but what’s left of them are cut short. The skeleton in front of you, is no longer a skeleton, he’s back to the handsome man you couldn’t remember. You try to scream with your shriveled tongue and burnt vocal chords. All you hear is the loud crackling fire, and oddly, you somehow hear the man breathing.
Then, the unthinkable happens; the man speaks to you, “Hello Betsy.” He stands up, bends over and places his face just inches from yours’; his green eyes drilling holes into your head. You wonder if it’s just your mind, but you faintly think your head really is being drilled into, you can almost hear the drill bit scraping against your skull. The man’s lips curve into a smirk, “Welcome to Hell. Allow me to show you around our home, Betsy. By the way, my name’s Lucifer, and you’ve been a bad girl.” You vaguely see him place both hands on the back of your chair. You hear his wrists pop as he pushes your chair backwards. The last thing you hear is the man, laughing like the devil, mixed with raspy screams of terror from a million distant beings.
Sitting up with a jolt, screaming, and sweating, you feel your bed sheets restricting you from moving much more. Untangling yourself, you weakly stand up in your blue room of a normal sixty-nine degrees Fahrenheit. Your fish swim silently around their bowl.
You were dreaming.
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