1.2/10- Limbo. ( This is a model of Dante's inferno. So painful to write.)
"You had no conscience."
The man sitting across from him stared with eyes brighter than the depths of a fire.
"That's not true." He cleared his throat, raw from misuse.
The man raised a brow.
"Oh? Maybe, in the beginning. Maybe when you were young. But not later."
He didn't know if he was still in hell. This interrogation sure felt like it.
" I did. I do. "
The man leaned forward, narrowing his eyes.
"Your brother was safe and happy- he had a life. You were selfish, you pulled him out of that.'"
"Dad was missing." Even he thought his argument was weak.
" He was fine. You just wanted to see your brother."
He didn't respond. There was nothing he could say to refute that.
"You had no conscience."
"Yes, I think we've discussed this."
"You are the reason your father is dead. "
His argument died in his throat. It was true.
"You have killed so many, done so much evil and you dare to say " I have a conscience"? You dare to say " I was a good man"?"
The man's voice stayed monotone, but every word cut deeper and deeper until he felt his mind collapse in on itself.
And he screamed his newly healed throat raw.
