Phield of Flames

1.1

I was there again. For what felt like the hundredth, I was in that dark place. I could hear the flicker of the blue flame above me which cast a small amount of light against my cheek. Yet that was all I could see, for the hundredth time, I was there again.

I tried to move differently than before, but it was impossible. I could predict each event before it happened. The blue flame would flicker threateningly, and I could feel it's faint warmth be replaced with the cold darkness as it was snuffed out by a soft blow of wind.

Even though I knew it would happen, even though I anticipated its end, I couldn't help the feeling of dread that overcame me. I tried to move differently but it was impossible.

I didn't feel like I was in my own body. At the same time, I felt my fingernails fill with the grimy ash that smelt like brimstone and rotten eggs. But it appeared like I was just a spectator to my actions.

I searched tirelessly for an unknown object in the darkened room that could aid in my escape. Yet still, I knew I wouldn't find it, though I felt determination like I never had before. Because it didn't feel like I was in my own body, at least I felt like I was not alone.

Then I found it. I found something, my fingers grazed against it and it singed my skin as if I stuck it in lava. And for a split second, I was amazed and terrified, because this never happened before. Never once during my time in this awful place did I find anything, and it scared me to no end.

I gritted my teeth and wrapped my fingers around it, whatever it was. I tugged and pulled as if my life depended on it, I pulled on it and slowly a feeling crawled up my spine and I shivered. I could feel the change, the shift in outcomes, as my skin ripped from my palms, and the feeling up my spine intensified.

The outcome wasn't too far off from the original prediction. The feeling up my spine manifested, and the pressure I felt on my spine traveled to the surface of my skin and pressed down. The air in the room suddenly felt suffocating and heavy, but not once did I stop pulling, even when I felt the ash shift under me.

Metal claws glinted fictionally in the darkroom, menacingly, they slowly reached for me. They drew my attention for only a few seconds before they dug into my leg with fury. The burn was different from the singe of the object I was pulling on, though I refused to let go. The claws dug deeper, only eliciting a whine from my throat filled with pure anguish. Yet I refused to pay it any mind, pulling the object key to my escape.

My salvation.

More knife-like fingers sunk into my shoulder with no restriction. Yanking me away from my progress futility. A cold shiver crawled down my spine and the hairs of my arm began to stand on end, but my consciousness begged my fingers to keep tugging.

My salvation.

The words that came out of the predator's mouth were almost too venomous. It was soaked in anger and betrayal, but most of all were hatred.

"What is salvation, to such a putrid being?

Is it forgiveness?

Is it to be freed of your deeds?

To be relieved of your guilt?

You deserve no such blessing! To ignore the very oppression and damage your actions have caused, should land you in the very deepest parts of the afterlife! But trying to be alleviated of your sins, without coming to terms with your victims? Why you deserve the torment, and distress, and grief of EVERY PERSON YOU HAVE COME IN CONTACT WITH! You have no right being alive, and even death isn't enough of a punishment for you."

The predator growled with unbridled rage and ripped their claws away from my blood-soaked shoulder, taking a chunk of my body with them.

Finally, a cry tore out from my lips, and as if my eyes had opened for the first time, they saw a new scenery. No longer was I trapped in a dark abyss endlessly searching for something I wouldn't find, no.