The Deeper Circle of Hell
Black just Black encased my head I couldn’t see, hear, or feel all I could do was smell death coming towards me suddenly light blinded me and I felt a cold hard floor underneath my aching wounds my eyes adjusted and I noticed a dark lurking figure hovering in the corner the light reflected of its gleaming teeth. A cold chill rocketed through my body as he stepped forward reveling his gruesome identity. A long jagged scar protruded from his cheek slicing the image of a handsome face. He gestured toward the east wall my eyes looked for what he showed me I gasped in horror as I noticed the gleaming ten inch knife hanging from the rusted hook on the wall. “Your one tough chick,” he slurred with a Tennessee accent, I just rolled my eyes in response “But, if you pass my test you are a true miracle,” He added. I unhooked my jaw and let out an earth shattering scream that I had captured deep inside me. The mysterious captor chuckled and grabbed the knife twirling it from hand to hand smiling a gut wrenching smile that ripped my stomach back and forth. “Where should we being” He questioned curiously with a sudden jerk he grabbed my bruised and cut arm ripping the loose bandages tracing the sore cuts with rough and torn hands twisting her arm he opened the healing or healed cuts criss-crossing her arms slowing sawing deeper her head flashed in and out of consciousness only hearing the ragged sound of her breath and the blood pounding in her ears then a searing sizzle jumped her into wakefulness her arm bubbling furiously she smelled the clean painful smell of rubbing alcohol mixed with fresh blood my stomach churned wanted to get rid of the feeling but I hadn’t eaten in days and all I could do is rock back and forth sobbing silently to herself praying for anything, anything at all wishing the pain would stop, when she felt a uneasy numbness spread through her body shutting off all feeling and touch of her whole body she lifted her head searching for her cruel inflictor of pain he stood twirling the blood soaked knife chuckling to his own private joke “the sleeping lady awakes,” he cooed I spat on his shoes in reply he just shuffled away whistling the tune to ‘bye bye birdie’ as he ascended up the worn staircase blacked with smoke. I fought against sleep tugging at my eyes but I had no inner strength left the black engulfed my mind and body.
