===========================TRIGGER WARNING=====================================
The blade danced through her skin, parted the way from her skin to bone like the red seas submitting to the call of Moses and traced the linings of her body like corrupt hands. Scars laced around her skin and morphed her image like kneaded bread dough, twisting, warping and pulling making them textured with valleys that descended from the endless hills that were her thighs. Crimson agony painted on the walls seeped down and dissipated into the seemingly endless stream of steaming water she bathed herself in. White and red the messenger of health stained the bathroom walls, irony glazing the tiles.
Hell isn't Dante's Inferno or the piercing screams of the damned. Only the torturous deafening silence that envelops the sanity of any entity who be unfortunate enough to be anathematized to its merciless fate. Completely void of any stimulation, emotion or anything vaguely humane.
Muffled sirens and flashing lights are futile as she is left stuck in this desolate, numbing vacuum.
No light reaches out,
No call beckons her to the heavens,
She feels her soul tire and weakens as it strains to push forward.
Until it submits,
To its eternal repose.
