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𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟒
┏━━━━ ★ ━━━━┓ 𝓐𝓷𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓪 𝓐 ┗━━━━ ★ ━━━━┛
Their heartbeats were growing fainter. That is not a good thing.
The Fields of Asphodel looked just like she thought. Like standing in a corn field in Nebraska forever and miserable.
The black grass had been trampled by eons of dead feet. A warm, moist wind blew like the breath of a swamp. Black trees—Grover told them they were poplars—grew in clumps here and there.
The cavern ceiling was so high above them it might've been a bank of storm clouds, except for the stalactites, which glowed faint gray and looked wickedly pointed. Dotted around the fields were several that had fallen and impaled themselves in the black grass.
She'd still take that rather then Fields of Punishment.
The four of them tried to blend into the crowd, keeping an eye out for security ghouls. She didn't bother trying to see anyone she might have known in the field. Everyone that she knew died is in Elysium, she'll never see them again...She's okay with that, though. At least their happy and safe now...
The soul's faces shimmer. They all look slightly angry or confused. They will come up to you and speak, but their voices sound like chatter, like bats twittering. Once they realize you can't understand them, they frown and move away.
The dead aren't scary. They're just sad.
They crept along, following the line of new arrivals that snaked from the main gates toward a black-tented pavilion with a banner that read:
JUDGMENTS FOR ELYSIUM AND ETERNAL DAMNATION
Welcome, Newly Deceased!
Out the back of the tent came two much smaller lines.
To the left, spirits flanked by security ghouls were marched down a rocky path toward the Fields of Punishment, which glowed and smoked in the distance, a vast, cracked wasteland with rivers of lava and minefields and miles of barbed wire separating the different torture areas.
