Azalea let out a choked gasp as a sword penetrated her dark leathers reaching her ribs, the deafening snap of her bones drowning her ears. The sharp tip punctured the softness of her heart; she let out a shuddered breath, blood gurgled, gushing down her chin. Her eyes slowly shuttered, taking one last glance around the dimly lit room and the man who held a bloodied sword smiling maniacally before her. Darkness engulfed her, and she welcomed it with open arms.
"Welcome to Inferis, land of the dead. We are the Obitus - soul judgers. Please refrain from panicking as you wait your turn to be judged." the hooded beings said dully.
Azalea jolted, urged forward as the crowd slowly shuffled ahead, muttering. Glancing down at her body, she stiffened at the gaping wound in her chest. Her hand passed through her injury, coming out from behind.
"That fucking asshole," she cursed.
It was unbecoming, that hollow feeling . There was no heaviness, only a detached sense she floated on, her incorporeal form shimmering. She continued examining her form; everything was the same; the ghost of her dual swords strapped to her back, the knives that decorated her thighs, and even the bloodied leathers were a familiar sight; all was normal, aside from the gaping hole in her chest, and her being dead, and preparing for judgement.
As the crowd came to a stop, Azalea took that moment to study her surroundings. She stood in a grassy field; ahead were two rivers that forked, seemingly never-ending. The sky was a dark grey, smokey as if a fire had just been put out. Everything was muted, as if the soul was sucked away from everything. Squinting, she could make out a dark, looming structure in the distance. Narrowing her attention to the hooded beings that called themselves the Obitus, the name stirred a memory. She recalled the stories told about them, it was said they could dig deep into souls and uncover everything about one's true self. Azalea shuddered as her predicament settled in.
Suddenly, utter silence fell upon the crowd, watching as the Obitus motioned for the first person to step forward. Azalea observed as the man floated on, trembling, his form rippling. From under their cloaked form, a skeletal hand snaked out, gripping the man's chin,it bent down, staring into his eyes. Slackening, the man remained unmoving; Azalea shifted, impatient. Finally, the Obitus let go and muttered something indistinguishable. Falling to his knees, the man began screaming, begging, his wails filling the silence as he was dragged along the field towards the river on the left. The man was flung into the water, he tried to remain afloat as the dark water swirled around him, but something was pulling him under. The current sped up as Azalea stepped closer to watch, but the man kept sinking until the last thing she saw was his fingertips grazing the surface before the river consumed him. The cycle continued on until one woman stepped forward, and instead of screaming, she fell to her knees, laughing as tears of joy ran down her face. The Obitus guided her to the riverbank on the right, and she stepped in, happiness drawn on her face, disappearing into its unending depth.
After what felt like an eternity, the Obitus motioned to Azalea.
Straightening her shoulders, she edged closer until they were arm's length away. Glancing up, expecting to see a face beneath the hood, she was greeted by a swirl of dark shadows. Her unease tripled. Despite her incorporeal form, the skeleton hand gripped her chin with surprising strength. It leaned closer, peering into her eyes and it seemed to inhale, its shadows contracting. Crippling agony filled her body as her knees buckled, and memories of her life swam before her closed eyes. Her parents' voice, glimpses of past friendships, fire, death, blood, she could sense the Obitus digging deeper. Into her soul, it went. She felt her worst fears come to life, dreams and aspirations that Azalea thought would always be hidden from the world. Close to her heart, buried from anyone. After what felt like eons, the hand left her chin, and the searing agony eased. Numbly, Azalea stood up, shaking as she stared ahead.
"Ahh, you led such a sinful life. Yet, so much wasted potential. What a shame... Gehenna", the Obitus whispered, its voice vibrating against Azalea.
Azalea stood rooted in her spot, finally panicking, as fear filled her body.
"Gehenna, no, no, no, no, shit, you idiot," she muttered, running her shaking hands through her dark hair.
Azalea knew deep down that the life she had once lived was a mercy compared to what she would experience for eternity. She mentally cursed herself for not praying to the Gods or believing in Inferis. For not leading a better, sinless life. For failing to live. There, In the depth of her despair, a haunting awareness emerged. Regret could not be escaped, nor could her fate. And so, she stepped into the abyss, surrendering; Azalea sank, her thoughts forever lost in the depths of her once remorseful existence. She turned, her thoughts crashing against her ears and impassively followed the Obitus. Standing at the edge of the riverbank, the being tilted its hooded head and said,
"Most mortals scream, plead, cry, but you, nothing. Strange; it must be the shock."
"No use crying, is there? "Azalea replied, her voice barely a whisper.
"There is some truth to that."
Azalea drifted forward, stopping at the foot of the river. Peering downwards, she could see no end, only consuming darkness. As the tension in the air crackled, a sudden force crashed against her back. Tumbling forward with a gasp, her world tilted on its axis, the river's pull strong, coaxing her in. Time seemed to stretch, each second filled with crippling desperation as Azalea tried to will her body upright, only to crash into the river, face first. She wanted to kick herself to the surface, but the river had other plans. Its current latched onto her limbs, like invisible hands tugging her beneath the surface. She fought with all her strength, but that slowly ebbed away, her movements growing sluggish, and at that moment, a profound silence enveloped her. Azalea slackened and gave herself to the river's pull, the current dragging her down; her last sight thst of the Obitus staring down at her. Fully submerged, black filled her vision, as the tide guided her to Gehenna, home to the sinful, and now Azalea's for eternity.
YOU ARE READING
Redemption
خيال (فانتازيا)Bargaining with the God of Death. Not Ideal. For Azalea Thorne Antares assassin, it was her ticket out of Gehenna and an eternity of punishment. Temporarily back to the land of the living, Azalea alongside Acrux - right hand of the God of death is...
