Obsidian eyes. Glaring harshly at the endless desert. Dust coated limestone ledges teetering over the metal lacing that cuts through the barren surroundings. Tumbleweed pirouette over the blurring sand-hills. Occasional strands of hair the colour of a crows wing mar the pristine perspective. Whilst the shimmering waves of heat balance over the russet dunes.
Hatred. The malevolent environment seemed to secrete malicious sentiments, be it through the burning hot sand that infects every crevice with its gritty particulates, or the scattering of sun bleached carcasses that litter the red expanse. Scorched are the fertile lands that lie just before this torturous expanse where only the most rotten of souls abide.
A distant humming vibrates the steel braces, a sign of the impending train. Slowly the fleet of vehicles descend upon the ragged train line, a committee of hungry vultures around a splattered road kill. Amongst the bruised Chevrolets and Land rovers stands a macabre Adonis. Dressed in torn dark, denim jeans, with nothing but his masculine grace and his own sweat coating the defined muscle of his chest, from his navel lays a trail of dark shadowy hair that trails devilish below the band of his red studded belt, into the mysterious depths that lurk below. Beside this man of devilish attraction stands his mount of equal splendour, his dark fur emitting a soft gleam like backlit, highly polished granite. The fiery steed tosses back his noble head revealing the crimson depths of his gleaming irises, as his flowing mane whips about his throat in an undetectable breeze.
The iron cased fortress that contains the tortured souls who are due to be bound in this sorrow filled environment, slowly looms towards its prisoners inevitable doom. Whilst the inhabitants of this godless plain lurch forward, the leering prostitutes; with their scarlet lips and clinging dresses; Or the hollow cheeked business men suffering from deals that shorted the poor and needy; amongst evil kings and corrupt leaders stood astride gaudy gilt chariots and steeds with matted manes, in tattered robes that displayed their feeble attempts at splendour. Still none of them dared encroach upon the space of their apparent ruler, as he emitted the same fearsome power as a black furred lion, his metaphoric tail flicking in annoyance at the apparent tardiness that the bringer of the damned souls.
In the distance the high pitched keening that is to be expected follows the path of the bringer to hell, the screams of repentance and reconciliation reverberate through the still air as the flock of wolves cry out fumbling over words long forgotten, titbits of prayers, chants and vows to change their twisted ways. It was hopeless they were his now, he hadn’t bought them like a farmer at a cattle market, no trap had been laid, the flock of endless empty souls had wandered here of their own free will. The signs had been foretold to countless generations of the weak-minded sheep, the threads woven into the countless scriptures which are scattered throughout their small window of knowledge.
As the screeching whistle blares, the towering train pulls to a halt and the vindictive phantoms that haunt these hellish plains glide into the caliginous structure, to withdraw the once ego filled spectres that cower inside its towering walls and drag their resistant spectral matter onto the burning platform and thrust them amongst sun bleached carcasses and sharp shards of broken stone. Amidst the cries of ‘Our Father who art in heaven’ And the low rumble of a thousand different languages thrumming together as people beg for forgiveness, steps a woman who rivals the sinful attraction of the Mephistophelian leader. Descending the steps in the lazy gait of a well fed tigress, the terrifying huntress slides across the dank arena toward the only equal of her unholy beauty. Shrouded in a dress of vivid ruby, a lurid approximation of a wedding gown, a veil of darkest burgundy sits atop her twisting locks of deepest pitch as they fan out about her ivory cheeks; a deep resentment lurks in the depths of her onyx eyes below her garnet encrusted diadem.
As she approaches the snorting horse, the stalker of the metal trail, departs from the decaying station leading a choking cloud of soot filled smog behind its whirling wheels as she returned to the oblivion to collect her next load of those who have purchased their one way tickets to the hellish plains, for it truly is they who seal their own fate.
Casting herself upon the withers of the high bred stallion the unnerving couple abscond from the disconcerting scene at the harrowing platform. Huge tongues of fire licked the tips of the succubus’ tangling hair as they leapt from the hooves of the hell bound steed.
Upon the departure of the rusting train the new inhabitants are dragged into the ramshackle huts that clutter the indistinct horizon around the point of no return, their sorry bawling continues to tear up into the sky long after the gruesome likeness of a moon stained red had reached its pinnacle and the screeches of the shadow coated predators had wandered across the silent train lines.
On the western horizon the signs of a new dawn began to stir, shedding its harsh white light across the desolate rails. The tumbleweed still cavorts over the stark expanse and the broken bones still gleam under the suns harsh rays. However the sinister sovereign and his spiteful companion who stands beside him on her ghastly twinned mount her cloak this time of deepest mauve with black accents about its fitted bodice. As they stand like warped bookends glaring over the endless expanse toward the lonesome train turnstile waiting for the next train to alight upon the horizon, bringing with it a host of new recruits to fill this barren wasteland.
For this is the last stop. The end for all the wrong doers; the criminals; the perverts; the twisted; the corrupt; the culpable; the deplorable; the illicit; the immoral; the villainous; the wicked and the wrong. For this is Hell, The people had purchased their own tickets, the train their train of consequence. It had dragged them through the idyllic lands of the heavens and into the accursed plains that lay beyond, releasing them at the unrelenting station that is the last stop.
Hell.
YOU ARE READING
English school work
Short StoryBasically I am putting up all my english writing pieces that are on the computer
