The thugs split up, sharing the loot between them and made their way back to where they were living. The thug who had shot Mr Johnston arrived home and threw his bag down onto the ground, causing numerous items to sprawl across the floor. He took off his balaclava, stripped off his clothes and threw them all into the fireplace, lit a fire and then headed for a shower.
Delighted with another great bounty and with no remorse for the man he had just murdered, the thug grabbed something to eat and a beer and sat in front of his TV as if nothing had happened. After a couple of hours and a few more beers, it was time to head to bed and get some rest.
His conscience was not affected by his actions, sleep still came naturally.
It was now 2.00 am, the thug was fast asleep. The room was pitch black and silent, not a sound to be heard. In the middle of the room a burst of light appeared, sparking in a circle like a portal, flames licking the outer rim of it. A creature began to emerge from its centre, a dark hooded figure, his arms devoid of flesh, bony and pale. His long slender fingers protruded from his hands at the end of long arms. The creature had no eyes just sockets where eyes had once sat, filled with the burning fires of Hell. The hooded cape it wore covered most of its head.
The creature made its way over beside the bed of the criminal that lay in a deep sleep. The portal closed and the creature leaned over the thug, raising its hands and making a triangle shape with its fingers. The creature placed its hands over the eyes of the unsuspecting thug and began to chant.
The creature spoke a language that no person would understand, it was an ancient language, lost long ago. The thug began to have a deep, realistic nightmare, his worst fears being realised. The creature had the ability to torture its victims, putting them in a severe state of panic and fear.
The thug was reliving every moment from the previous night, the robbery and the killing of Mr Johnston. The thug began to make his way into the shop front, treading on bits of broken glass, crunching underneath his feet with every step he took. A body lay in the middle of the room, surrounded in blood and fragments of wood and glass. The body had been covered over, in order to preserve it for investigation.
The thug, now just above the body, began to pull back the cloth to reveal the torn up, half missing face of the victim. In a state of panic the thug fell backwards onto the ground, finding it difficult to breath. The lifeless body he looked down at was no longer Mr Johnston, but was his own. The thug began to scream out but no sound was coming from his mouth, no one heard him scream or plead for help.
It was his turn to be left helpless and alone. Screaming and screaming with no sound ever leaving his lips, the thug passed out. When he woke, he was no longer in the shop looking down at his half rotten body, but was now in an alley way propped up against the wall.
A few metres away he could see three people having some sort of altercation. It appeared that two men were ganging up on a much younger male.
The younger man was punched in the side of the head, causing him to lose his balance and stumble, hitting his head against the wall on the way down. The two men bent down to the young man and started to go through his pockets, trying to find as much of value as they could. Now semi-conscious the younger man began to move and the two men stepped back.
The thug on the ground started to shout down the alley at the two men to leave the kid alone, but they could not hear him and it appeared his leg was damaged, he was unable to stand.
The two men, grabbed the kid and pushed him up against the wall.
"Where is your cash, kid?" one of the thugs shouted still half dazed from his head hitting the hard brick
"I don't have any money, I told you that" the younger man responded
Not satisfied with what he was hearing the thug took a knife from his waist band and drove it into the side of the kid. As the knife penetrated the soft flesh, the thug on the ground felt the kids' pain, writhing on the ground. The thug with the knife attacked again with another blow, this time just below the ribs. The kid fell back towards the wall, blood oozing out of the two stab wounds, he slid down the wall leaving a smear along it.
The thug on the ground let out another empty scream of pain and continued to roll around on the floor in agony. The two thugs grabbed what they could and started to run down the alley towards the thug on the floor. They could not see him. The one wielding the knife he recognised, it was him, he was the one that had stabbed the kid. With the two criminals gone, he tried to drag himself along the ground towards the younger man, finally getting there after what felt like a lifetime. He lifted the now drooping head, only to be greeted with that of his own face.
Back in the bedroom, the creature continued with its incantations, causing the thug to relive all the moments where he had caused others pain, over and over, experiencing it in a loop each time just as terrifying as the first.
Moving a little closer and peering over the top of the thug's face, the creature began to inhale, deeply and slowly. With each breath the mans soul began to be stripped from his body, pulling it straight from within and into the physical plane. The dreams intensified with every moment the more his soul was being ripped from his body, causing excruciating pain and suffering.
With one final breath the creature pulled the thugs soul from deep within him to the world around him. The thug was dead, lying motionless and still in his bed. His body was stiff, the colour had been drained from him, pale and rigid. His eyes remained open, however there was no life in them, the colour was gone, they were white and empty. Many believe that the soul lives behind the eyes, once the creature had removed it there was nothing left but an empty shell of skin, bone and organs. No life was present anymore.
The creature grabbed the soul and led it towards the newly opened portal in the middle of the bedroom. Deep in the portal was the burning fires of Hell, the screaming of tortured souls and the loud cracking of the whip from the God of Death himself. The creature had procured another soul for his master, another soul to fight on the side of the God. The pair stepped through the portal and it closed behind them.
A small, wretched looking creature stood by the side of the portal as it opened. This was the Enslaver, the inflictor of pain and suffering in the name of the Dark Lord himself.
"This one looks like he knows how to inflict a fair amount of pain and suffering" said the screechy creature
"He is indeed a wicked soul and one that will battle hard in the Great Soul War for my father. He is a little rough around the edges, maybe there is something you could do to fix that" Grilfer added
"Of course I can, nothing that a whipping won't solve" the creature added
Taking the soul of the thug by the shoulder, the Enslaver led him down the path towards the deep recesses of Hell, ready to inflict pain upon him, readying him for an eternity of war.
The bedroom of the thug had fallen silent once again, dark and vacant, only this time there was not even the sounds of sleeping. His body would lay there, dead and alone just like the poor shop worker he had murdered the previous night, only to be found once the landlord realised he hadn't received any rent for the month.
YOU ARE READING
Grilfer - Mortal Reaper
FantasySolveig the God of Light and Life and Bolverkr the God of Death and Darkness are locked in an eternal battle for control of all existence. The scales forever balanced. When the ambition of Bolverkr grows and a loophole is discovered, his plans might...
