Assortment

Drainage

With each drop of blood dripping down the hair-clogged drain, his conscious faded. But his emotions did not. On the contrary, they only grew - fear, desperation, regret, and anger.

With well-timed sermons and empty promises, they had wasted his time. And now, they were wasting away his life. All for the approval of a deity that would never smile kindly upon them.

A deity that grinned, with a sick pleasure as life literally went down the drain.

The man cursed. He cursed himself - his own stupidity. For he had believed and he had followed, blindly and rabidly, until now that his eyelids have been pried open.

He cursed the cult - those who he once thought were family. In his moments of need, they had come to him with sweet words and promises of love from a higher being. Love that would guide him out of his worst predicaments. Love that never existed.

And finally, he cursed the unreasonable god behind it all - the face revealed before him as his vision faded.

Along with his soul, his grudge left the flesh. And along with his blood, it flowed down the drain.

His silent anger did not go unnoticed.
For it was then that the grinning god saw it fit to at least preserve the vengeful soul in a frail prison of blood and hair.

A mobile prison.

One suited for haunting the plumbing.

One that granted the man a new life he never asked for.