SEVEN DAYS IN HELL

CHAPTER 5: DOLL

Chapter 5: Doll

"I don't understand how this is possible!" the man added.

He was surprised to see the essence of maryjane staining of a blackish color as soon as part of his saliva had touched it.

Distracted by that phenomenon, waiting for a possible answer, he had been hugged to her with one of the two horns resting on his shoulder. He held it wrapped in a demonic form that had always belonged to him, together they remembered the chiseled shapes of Apollo and Daphne. What was perceived by their sculptural pose could be a passionate and lustful embrace, an eternal struggle between the earthly world and the supernatural world, between life and death, strength and weakness, Yet, the only one who could prevail in that place forgotten by both God and man was just an insurmountable wall of hatred.

Still trapped, the victim could only stutter a forced man: "Well..."

She didn't know exactly what she meant, but she was certain that the situation was embarrassing rather than frightening her.

"You dodged another bullet, human. I certainly can't take you out after discovering such a remarkable detail."

He was still glued to that tiny rib cage like that annoying parakeet found the perfect position on his new perch.

"I think we should hurry up and get to the judgment room. I want to weigh you because more unfortunate people are coming."

The confusion that had arisen in maryjane's head had become a rampant chaos.

Would he have killed her? Would he have waited a while and then tortured her and devoured her? What the hell was that black thing that had appeared on her neck? And no less important than the others, what was that uncomfortable situation?

The young woman couldn't move, she clutches the young man, but shakes a little to make him notice in what an unpleasant condition they were.

"Shall we walk like this?" he said still slightly trembling.

"Don't worry, I just wanted to take a closer look at the problem and make the most of it."

You could see that he was clearly lying, also because he had finally come down with a snap too fast to have been reasoned before.

He tried to resume, with a bit of difficulty, his elegance and composure, he fixed the shirt and the lapel of the jacket that, in the meantime, had for who knows what reason inflated in the shoulder area.

Moving so swiftly, he had ripped a piece of flesh-like flesh from the side of maryjane.

Even though the blood, still contained in her, had not been able to conceal the suffering that, instead, a more calm look had vainly tried to hide.

"Excuse me," that word again. It was the second time he heard it in the day, but the previous episode had failed to cushion its heavy effect.

That time, however, it was the blood lips of man that created this macabre sensation. He had pronounced, without too much thought, three syllables, one after the other, a hundredth of a second that had succeeded in making him doubt his boundless wickedness.

"Does it hurt?" It sounded like he wasn't even thinking straight. What the hell was he up to? First you tell her that you would rape her mercilessly by dismembering her and then by a scratch she was making all this fuss?

From the cut which the woman hastily covered she could see an invisible shimmer, a faint flame that inexplicably peeped out. It was a white light that glowed like a mottled stone.