Prince of Darkness

Chapter 6: Death

And the sixth chapter, be prepared for the ending to this one! It might not be what you expect.

Enjoy anyway!

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Chapter 6: Death

I was sitting in a small room. There was one tiny window up in the top corner of the room; it had secure bars across it. Stopping anyone like me from escaping. There was one door that was plain and white, just like the rest of the cell they had imprisoned me in for the time being until my fate was decided. There was one cot-like object hanging from chains at the side of the room. There was also a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. And of course, the camera in the corner, keeping an eye on me.

But otherwise the room was empty.

I could hear nothing, smell nothing and taste nothing.

My mind wandered, wondering how The Righteous Warriors had known where Daman and I were.

The Righteous Warriors were basically like the holy form of the police, and the judge, and the jury.

I wondered how they had found out about what Daman had done so quickly. But I supposed that someone from the museum had rung them.

I visualised the digits as someone had dialled them: 999.

999? It smacked me on the forehead like a slap into reality. 999 reversed was 666. 999 was the number for the good, the pure, the innocent, 666 was the number for the evil, the impure, the guilty.

I knew which set of numbers I would pick without a second thought. It was too easy now. I had become the essence of selfishness, lust, pride, greed, blasphemy and coveting itself.

I thought I had changed but really Daman had just uncovered and revived what had been very deeply buried. Dormant, in hibernation, waiting for the moment in which it could rise again. My sinful vice.

I drifted in and out of consciousness, unsure of how much time had passed by.

I thought about Daman often…and cried frequently. Like hell would he come back for me, the bastard.

Yet, despite how he had ripped my heart out of my chest and stamped on it…I still loved him.

Every time I thought I had finally moved on, the agony in my chest started up again.

It was like being winded all over again, I found it hard to breathe most of the time.

Like there was no air left for me to breathe into my deflated lungs.

What was even worse was this little spark of hope that was glowing faintly inside of me somewhere. It was telling me that Daman hadn’t forsaken me, that he was coming to bust me out of here. I kept trying to squish it but it kept reappearing moments later somewhere else.