You are on the preciphist of the end. Cold lonely darkness stirs among the empty space. You cannot see, hear or smell anything.
It is just a void of nothingness.
Nothing awaits you here...so why is it that you came to this place?
You do not know. The question lays heaviest on your mind, burgeoning you.
You try looking around but there is nothing. You try to walk around but it feels as though you do not travel anywhere.
It is futile.
Those unlucky enough to enter this place usually never leave. Ah, but you are not unlucky, you deserve to be here. You have committed awful, unforgivable sins and caused so much pain. So perhaps this is your punishment, to be forgotten in the void.
You are the seventh to be brought here. The six before you had all committed grave sins and for that reason they were their own downfalls. You are no different. All you humans are alike.
Now tell me, what is your sin?
I know what it is. You tried to act as God, taking lives of those you deemed as unworthy. God doesn't take lightly to those actions.
You have committed the sin of pride, the worst of the cardinal sins and this is your fate.
The darkness surrounds you, engulfing everything. Except there is the sound of distant static as it edges closer with each passing moment. There was that feeling of external dread.
Dismay, paranoia, and anxiety stir within you, convulsing together into one huge mess.
The static draws closer.
The fear now glues you to the spot and you hold your breath on instinct. You dared not move a single muscle or even blink as the static now surrounds you.
It was too late to run now.
You stare into the static and the static stares back.
A figure emerges from the static, it is you but not you at the same time. Same hair, same clothes, same face, but their eyes. Their eyes glowed in a sinister shade of red. Black liquid seeped from their cornea and runs down their cheeks.
It doesn't do anything else but watch you for a moment. Red irises stare into your eyes, right into your very core. You want to scream, the urge was so strong, but no sound manages to escape your dry, hoarse throat as the static engulfs any noise you attempt to make. You want to run but your fear roots you in place, negating any possibility of escaping.
This is your fate.
Fated to this punishment. This will be your retribution, the penance for your sin.
Your lungs start to ache from your refusal to let in air and you feel yourself grow increasingly lightheaded.
The figure continues to stare but then in a flash you feel a hot steering pain in your chest. Blood spurts out of a fresh wound as the figure drives a knife straight into your chest. Warm blood oozes out as your body crumples to the ground. Convulsions attack every muscle in your body and the blood pools under you, staining the floor crimson. Soon you will be nothing more than a hunk of worthless meat.
The apparition fizzes away into nothingness, leaving you alone once again. Your condition slowly deteriorates and that is how it will be for the rest of eternity...
YOU ARE READING
Scrapped Story Ideas
RandomA place for those story plans that didn't quite make it off the cutting room floor. I feel that it would be a nice idea to compile them all here instead of them just sitting in the drafts.
