Guard and Scythe

It was the first mirror I had seen since death. The jagged piece, about the size of my palm, was thin and sharp resting against these spidery fingers of mine.

I looked around me. Through the barren wastelands of the field's of Hell, not another soul was to be found anywhere in sight. Whoever had dropped the mirror fragment here before, had to be long gone. Almost nobody ventures outside the gates to the City of The Damned to begin with, so it is the most extraodinary thing to find this shard here of all places. I wonder why it is here at all, mirrors are so rare to find, because no one wants to be reminded of who they have become upon their eternal sentence.

Once more I glance at the sky, wondering if it could have rained down from a lone cloud  long dispersed by now. The sun felt cool against my skin, and the wind brushed over my bare arms and legs. Hell wasn't as hot as the humans believed. No, it wasn't hot, but it was still miserable.

The black sun hung limply in the sky over the red sandy desert. Off in the distance I could still here the wailings of the damned enduring their eternal sufferings in The Fields of Punishment.

I sigh. Tears are something too beautiful to be found in a place like here.

Holding the thin piece of mirror before me, I can't help but stare at the monstrous reflection.

It couldn't be real. She couldn't be real. Right?

The girl on the other side of the mirror stared out at me. Her skin a milky bone color, ragged with old violet scars.

I held the mirror closer. I felt such a deep fascination for this hideous creature before me.

The girl also leaned forward curiously, with eyes raking over me, drinking in every detail. A faint sensation of fear leapt up my chest at the sight of the eagerness pounding through her eyes. She watched me closely, feeling my every breath.

Just as I watched her. We were two in the same. I felt like I could reach my fingers through the glass to touch her face if I desired.

Her gray hair shrugged limply across her shoulders, dead nothingness, that curled like winter vines down her frail back. Through her ragged frock you could see her waxy skin stretching tightly over wasted limbs and ribs. The blood remaining in her veins curled up her body like a spider's web of silk.

I stared deep into the girl's eyes again;dead black pools of nothingness. Like a lonely doll. Lifeless, like a shark's as it closes in on its prey.

Together we both rolled our heads to the side. Our eyes never lost the other's.

We smiled. Our sharp jagged teeth glistened with beautiful poison from the black sun. Secrets hidden in the wind curled their way across the sand and disappeared into the air.

My face slipped back into the mask I had mastered so well: Nothingness. A face belonging to a being who felt no emotion. I had practiced it so well I could almost fool myself into believing in the deception as well. Little was it known, that all the emotions of rage and barely controlled anguish had been long locked away inside my heart and mind. I could see them now inside my head when I closed my eyes. They were shriveled up inside their locked boxes blanketed by a thick layer of dust. They all tried to cry out and escape from their prisons, but had grown so weak and disheveled that now they could hardly raise a starved hand.

The girl begins to disappear as me hands tighten around the jagged edges of the mirror. i let the pain infect me, and breathe in sharply as I allow it to take control of my mind.

Murky blood drips onto the sand.

The sharp sense of clearness washes over me like cool rain.

Air whistles into useless lungs. there is no relief. No heart to keep pumping. Human habits die hard.

And some of us just happen to die hard too.

I tuck the shard of mirror into my pocket and let it kiss my hip. The prickling sensation of the girls teeth against me skin sends shivers over me skin in an unsettling manner.

I give a small smile to myself, and push my long garden of hair behind my ears.

The bone dry air whistles by tauntingly as it lazily rolls by, basking in it'd own glorious freedom. No matter how hard I listen I can never hear it speak. It's secrets will remain so for a long time if I don't start hearing soon.

The damned moan and wail as the king's tower chimes. The echoes of a thousand men's footsteps clash together as they head to the First Circle.

I sigh and look down at the shackles around my feet beginning to recoil. As they drag me back and can't help but think that they've never ever felt so heavy.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is what i had written a long time ago, and now have decided to add on to it. To clear thing's up a bit, the girl is dead (duh) and is one of the prisoners of hell. Satan's tower clock rings to let the damned know when they come in from the fields of punishment.

Please let me know if I should write more. Thanks!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------