Stuck in limbo

     The drip of lava falls on the cold stone and obsidian floor, hitting the almost lifeless body of Tommy. The masked entity, covered in the boy’s blood, laughs psychotically. 

      “Tommy, you are nothing like me. You should have known better than to test me, I am God! Now, look at you, dying by my hands. Feel some kind of joy, your God has killed you!”

      Tommy heard every grim word the man spoke, he was truly powerless against him. He hates it, the words spilling out of the man’s mouth, the fact he was about to die, and not even gotten the chance to fully fight for his life.

      “You're not a God, Clay! You've never been one! Killing people for just the joy of it! You're a demon!”

      That was the last thing Tommy could speak  before Clay kicked the boy across the prison cell. It was cold, Tommy felt cold, the blood and wounds around his body, cold.

    Even surrounded by lava he was truly and utterly cold. This is what death feels like, cold and painful.

      “I feel so cold.”

      That was the last thing to be heard before Tommy’s body went limp. 

…

      The sound of metal wheels scraping against tracks, Tommy laying on the cold tile floor. Red and white lights flashing through the windows as the subway moves towards its destination. 

      Tommy slowly stood from the ground, shaking as the subway car bounces against the tracks moving him ever so slightly. 

     Tommy just stood there in silence, until the screeching of the subway wheels against the tracks slowly, indicating the vehicle was coming to a stop.

    The only sound was Tommy’s slow breathing. The subway doors opened with a squeak, Tommy’s head tuned to the outside. Dark, dim and the coldness flowing inside the car. 

    Footsteps came from the subway car to the right of him. The door connecting the two cars opened, and a man with a mask appeared. Clay, the very same man who killed him in the prison.

    Clay grabbed Tommy’s wrist and threw him out of the subway car. Tommy could hear Clay’s soft giggle which quickly turned into his psychotic laugh. 

    “Where am I?” 

    Clay turned around, walking back into the vehicle.

“This is death, Tommy.”

      The doors closed and the subway started up and left Tommy on the train platform. 

      Tommy just sat there with his thoughts for days, remembering every single detail on how he died, when he arrived on the platform. He tried screaming, climbing the walls, and walked down and up the platform to which it never ended.

“I feel so cold.”

      Tommy curled into himself and cried.   
An eternity of crying, a sudden ringing in the boy’s ears began. Voices of everyone he knows yelling at him. Pain filled screams came from Tommy, pleading for the voices to stop. Everything was so loud, a stream of blood trickled from his ears. Tommy’s screaming broke his vocal cords. He was pleading for someone to stop all the noise but no one came.

      The platform slowly disappeared into nothingness, almost like a void. Tommy continued to cry. The voices kept getting louder. Tommy couldn't do anything but sit in pain. 

      The pain-filled pleading  kept coming for hours, days, weeks, then months. 
Tommy, sprawled out on the floor of nothingness, blood and salty tears surrounded him. His ocean blue eyes, dull.

      “I feel so cold.”

      The boy kept wondering what everyone thought of his death, would they even care? Tommy knew he wasn't the most liked but he wasn't he most hated. They could revive him, they had the power to.  Why haven't they yet?

      Tommy wasn't even sure how long he had been there, in death, you feel no hunger, thirst, nor languor, just the cold. Was this his punishment? 

    A silent laugh came from behind Tommy. Footsteps crept towards him. Tommy looked up at the one making the noise. A tall skinny man with multiple pairs of wings stood above Tommy. A mask covering his eyes but not his month, that had a warm smile.  

    “How do you feel?”

    The winged man talked but his mouth did not move.

    “Do you want revenge towards those that wronged you?”

    The voice was talking to Tommy in his mind.

    “Do you no longer want to feel the cold?”

    “Can you help me leave here?”

    The man smirked at Tommy. 

    “Well then. I have one condition. Is it possible that you can help me?”

    “Yes, I can.”

     Tommy didn't know what compelled him to answer the man, but if there was a way to leave the cold void he would do anything.

    Before he knew it, Tommy was sitting on grass and a soft wind blowing through his hair. 

    “How-”

    Tommy turned around but the man was gone, left was a blue cloak and a sword matching it.

    “You know what to do, my Theseus.”
    Tommy knew what he ment, he was to kill everyone. 

    …

    Tommy set off to his village that he grew up in, using his sword to kill everyone in his path. Blood covered his hands and sword. Everyone was dead, his family and his friends. Just not Clay. 

    Tommy searched through the town and tore everything apart. Only to arrive at his old house where the stranger and Clay were. 

“Theseus kill him.”

So Tommy did, blood now everywhere. 

Tommy, covered in Clay's blood, he no longer felt the cold.