Hellfire

Night two

It's hot and dry as per usual. The red rock scratches Connor's palms as he scrabbles for a handhold on the steep rocky slope. They force him to climb, the flames below hungrily licking at the base of the cliff face.

The climb goes on forever, the flames slowly catching up with Connor, who slows down due to fatigue. The flames start to burn his feet and he screams and cries out.

Suddenly a white ray of light leaks through a crack in the rock, and a hole just big enough to crawl through emerges from the cliff face. A hand grabs Connors own and pulls him into the hole. He gasps, but allows himself to be pulled through the hole, for some reason trusting the strange eerie white glow from the hand.

There is a loud rumble and a roar of flames, before the hole is sealed off by a rockslide. Worried, Connor collapses and curls up in a ball on the floor. The White light and any sense of its presence has disappeared and he is alone in the dark again.

Connor spent the remainder of his dream in the dark hole. It wasn't pleasant per say, but it wasn't torture, and that was something.

Suddenly, he heard a crackling. Flames began to flicker through tiny gaps in the rock and it suddenly got very hot very quick.

"Leave. Him. Alone," rang the unmissable clear cut voice as he was engulfed in flames, coughing, spluttering and screaming.

Connor jolted awake, mouth wide open, mid scream, eyes watering. He collapsed on the thin mattress again, sobbing violently. He just wanted them to stop. Was this really so wrong? He just didn't know. He curled up in a ball and shuddered until he eventually succumbed to sleep again.

Not much has changed since he was last here. The red rocks are still, if not more scratchy, and the heat just that tiny bit more unbearable. It feels so heavy, as it sits in his lungs, practically suffocating him. He winces as he feels the first slash appear. He sees the red line traced open on his pale skin, and there is nothing he cold do to stop it. His voice feels small and far away.

"Kevin...?" He whimpers quietly, each syllable burning his throat. "Make it stop." He forces out in a broken whisper. Nothing happens. He is utterly alone. Connor endures slash after slash, and although he knows it isn't real, he has no means of escaping the psychological torture. 'Maybe if i could just wake up,' He thinks about it very hard. 'Wake up, wake up,' he mutters to himself repeatedly. After screwing his eyes shut, he opens them again. He is back in his small, cramped bedroom, in Uganda.

Elder Price was sitting on Connor's bed, concerned. He'd only been here a day or two, and obviously hadn't got the memo to ignore Connor's nightly disturbances. The other bed was empty; Elder Thomas must have left the room to give Connor some peace.

Connor tried to sit up, but found that it was almost as if something was pressing down on his chest. Flames started to rise from beneath the bed. Connor stared wide eyed. This horror, this torture had never happened before. He wanted to cry for help, but he couldn't even open his mouth. He just stared, glassy eyes, at the ceiling, praying to whatever God may be out there that Kevin would save him from this terrible helldream.

"Elder are you alright?" Kevin asked. He had heard a scream for the second night in a row. He lightly placed a hand on Connor's arm, his worry growing when he didn't get a reaction out of the petrified Elder.

Connor felt Kevin's hand on his arm, but couldn't do much to react, and although the weight was still there, it felt somewhat lighter than it was before.

"I..." He tried to speak but his voice got caught in his throat, coming out as a small noise. He still felt pinned to the bed, but he managed to grip one of Kevin's hands and hold onto it tightly. The fire was still there, and he felt like a thousand lashes burned on his skin.

They were now there on Kevin's arms as well, and a look of pain was distorted his face. Connor knew it wasn't real, but he couldn't bear to see Kevin like that, real or not. He just started mumbling incoherently to himself, trying to cause some kind of distraction from the horror, but it wasn't really working.

Kevin was frowning more and more worried. He was never the best at comforting people, putting his own problems first. But this was obviously important.

"Hey, it's okay," he whispered. "It was all just a dream. You're safe." He could tell that Connor was still in a state of shock, so he was trying to calm him down.

Connor saw a silhouette move across the room, silent as ever. What he didn't see, was the glint of the knife it was holding in its hand. He looked over at Kevin, who seemed to be trying his best to comfort him. And although he was close, he felt so very far away, and distant. Conor wanted to reach out to him but he couldn't. Kevin smiled. That was enough to reassure Connor that everything would be okay.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Connor saw a flash of steel but it was too late. The knife went straight through Kevin and the bloody tip stuck out of his chest, inches away from Connor. Kevin scream in pain and surprise and Connor no longer knew what was real and what wasn't anymore. Blood started to ooze from the stab wound, around the knife. Kevin's eyes glazed over, causing him to collapse on Connor. It all felt too vivid, too real. And Connor screamed.

Kevin was starting to freak out a little bit at this point. Despite his best efforts, Connor wasn't fully awake and now he was screaming. Kevin sat up and shook the Elder, trying not to be too rough.

"Elder.... Wake up..." He kept repeating, each time getting louder and louder than before.

Connor hated blood, especially when it was his, or even worse, Kevin's. The bed was now stained bright red and his hands glistened scarlet in the firelight; Connor couldn't take it anymore. His screams began to turn to broken cries and then to silent sobs, hot tears tracking down his cheeks. The edge of his vision went black, and he fell back against the headboard, which his head hit with a loud bang, before he passed out completely.

The following morning, Connor woke up with a bandage around his head, and a cloth on his forehead. There was a glass of water on the table and Elder Price was sitting slumped on the edge of Elder Thomas' bed, asleep. He'd evidently been keeping watch, and taken care of Connor through what he could only describe as the most terrifying nightmare he'd ever experienced. He swallowed dryly; his head pounded. Elder Price, who he thought only cared for himself had done all of this for him? The thought did nothing to quell his feelings for the missionary.

Then Connor realised Kevin probably had questions. He was in no state to answer them.

'Just turn it off, as usual' he brain advised

'Yeah,' Connor thought, putting on his best smile as he saw Kevin stir. 'Turn it off.'