Chapter 1: Ever sweet torture
God, do you see me?
God, are you there?
God, do you hear me?
God, please answer my prayer?
God, please don't hate me!
God, give me strength!
God, listen to my plea!
God, if your out there why not show your mercy?
Pain, an unpleasant feeling caused by damage to the body or mind.
I feel pain. The pain of love, sorrow and is all but continous for me. I feel it everyday and everynight. I feel the white-hot kiss of a poker, or the hugging sting of a whip. I feel the reassuring handshake of the knife against my bleeding skin or the hug of a noose around my blackened neck. Constant and unbelivable amounts of pain. It tested my will and faith every moment yet I did not give in to temptation.
Others feel pain too, I can hear them. Their begs of mercy or their bitter oaths echo around my prison as if they were butterflies. Each one diffrent to the next, but somehow all the same. It always cursed someone. God, family, friends, themselves I've heard it all.
"I cry out to you during the day. I stay awake at night calling on your name, but you do not answer me. I have no one else besides you, please don't turn your back on me. Help me! I need you! You alone know my pain and loneliness and you understand it. Why have you gone quiet on me? Please hear my cry for help and forgive my sins. Please turn my situation around for good, so that I may forever serve you and praise thy's name. I wish for nothing more then help to be free to be able to do your will. I wait for you to answer me.
In your loving name.
Amen"
The prayer was a silent one. Spoken to the still, chocking wind as it fluttered around me before resting on my lips. The voice speaking was cracked and dry, yet moist and hopeful. My voice. I collapsed in the middle of my jail, daring not to go near the corners in case of prodding by the guardians of my imprisonment. I could see not of the Lord's light, but of evil's shadow. Not even the front of my face was visable to the Demon's eyes as they glared at me.
My eternal imprisonment had done nothing for my body. Covered in quickly fading injuries from my last punishment, my skin wasn't as smooth and clean as it used to be. My hair was ragged and hadn't been washed for years (Not that I was pretty before anyway). I was wild, rabid like a dog. No wonder no one ever looked at me with kindness or empathy.
"Morning, had a nice nap? I did!" a sweet little voice sang. A bird among the Vultures. How could one so innocent hold such evil? A girl, no more then 8 years old stood in front of the cage illuminated by something in her hand. The light was blinding to my otherwise shrunken eyes. I tried to focus on it, but all I could make out was a stick or something. I blinked and looked again, this time it was clearer. Straight, and very familar? A hand! This child had cut off someone's hand and set it on fire! By the look of it, a young woman's! EWWWW!
She prowled the cage, taunting me. This child wasn't at fault, but of the creature inside. Lilith, first of the fallen, was inside that child's body. I felt only pity for it, for soon Lilith would take a new body as she had always done and the child would be cast away. I could cry no tears but inside I wept at the propect of another innocent dying. She was just another play toy for Lilith, a puppet no more but I could see her pain. Her fear was almost hysterical. I wanted to calm her but I did not dare it. I am not to speak, only wait.
Lilith had chosen a virtuous young girl, not even lying had been committed as she was free. Waves of brown framed such a face, contrasting beautifully with a baby pink clip. A white layer of purality clothed her while a band of blossomed pink encircled her waist. On her feet were black shoes and white socks, as if she had been at church before Lilith had caught her. Blasphemy in the Lord's own temple, I doubted that she could care less. Already she had whored herself out to the teachings of her lord and master and rejected God's love for the devil's tasks. Where was the girl's parents? Were they dead or mearly worried sick at the propect of their child's disappearance. These thoughts stung my morales and a sudden blast of piety filled me. I wanted to scream at Lilith for corrupting an innocent child, to push her out and release the good soul I knew was inside. The desire to do this was overbearingly appealing.
But I said nothing.
The argument was for not in this place. The child could not escape Lilith, I couldn't escape Lilith and overall it was a bad idea. So I kept quiet to stop extra punishment for such a worthless need. It would do no good to go shouting at the world, but it would be good to try and survive it. I was a survivalist not a messiah, so yes I backed down. No sense in being un-realistic here in the this place. That just earns you more pain. No, better to just block out piety and deal with your own problems then try to solve the world's problems but be entangled in your life's mess. Here, heartlessness is common. It is just as it has to be. No emotion just the constant thought of the future punishment. That is the real tragedy of this place, you lose yourself in order to save yourself.
I hated the idea with a vengeance.
The mere thought of leaving that child to the mercy of Lilith repulsed me but what could I do? I was weak, trapped and alone down here. There was nothing I could do, or at least that was what I told myself. "I want to play! Will you play with me?" God grant this girl your mercy for when she is cast aside like a autumn leaf. My Lord please comfort her for she has done no wrong. Give of her your grace and escort her safely to paradise. At least in my head I can take a stand. Lilith and this place has taken my freedom and body but not my soul.
Not just yet.
Lilith entered the cage by melting the bars and sealing them back up once entering. I am a caged beast, please set me free. Lord, art thou your humble friend? Spare of thee my pain and set of thee free. Give me life my most trusted friend and take away my misery. I prayed franticly while staying apsolutly still as ever. I was in a fetual position, with my feet close to my body and my hands in a permanent prayer. I had not the strength to move nor escape. They had beaten that out of me a long while ago.
The only things that still worked were my eyes and mouth but already that was fading. Fading away like autumn into winter, by the hands of my persuctors. The delicately crafted gates to my dominon were embued with the old magic. Words etched into the wood that were long ago forgotten. Spells crafted that were no longer speakable. Often when I had the strength long ago, I would pace this space till my feet bled. But that was long ago, so very long ago.
"Let's play cutty-cutty into skinny!" I really couldn't be bothered to play along today. I began to discuss weird ideas in a one-person debate. Can vampires get aids from drinking infected blood? Do blind people dream? What came first the chicken or the egg? Why is an Orange orange? That sort of thing. Quite entertaining really, two of the debates ended up in a complete mental break down of all parpicents, one in a fight with a very sucpicous spatula and the other with the world blowing up. I nearly laughed twice but remembered that that would mean I was completely insane. Why was this funny? I was being tortured by a Demon in the middle of a pit of fire and pain, in constant agony. But it had it's advantages. By thinking, not feeling I could stand the pain better.
In this case it worked.
I had a very interesting debate.
And I hardly even noticed the gashes left on me.
The torture ended in the middle of the debate over the best wish in the world that a Djinn can't make bad. Shame since I really wanted to know how I got out of a room full of murderous stuffed toys. Yet again, Lilith was mad that I didn't crack. Some Demons going to get it in the neck today, or maybe in the arm?
The howl of a Hellhound signalled a feeding frenzy on some poor soul that has especially annoyed the Demons. I could not see it of course, with a whole mountain around me but I could hear it. Blood curdling screams and begs followed but it was a regular thing. Everyone knows it down here that everyday a new soul is chosen for being arrogant or in the way and ripped to streads. It's not like the Hellhounds have a choice in the matter, it's just what their master has ordered them to do.
I retreated into my mind again, this time thinking of happy thought to drown out what was outside. I daydreamed of flying out of here, out of my mountain prison and go to Earth. I'd meet the Lord's favourites and help them against such evil. I'd distroy Demons and protect the innocent. 'Our hero!' they would shout and I'd be free! Maybe I might settle down and have a family of my own? But no, I'm here. Here in Hell.
The mountain acting as my prison, my guards numbering proberelly in their thousands and these bars contain me. Not to mention all of the higher ups like Lilith skulking around waiting to take a shot at me. No, escaping Hell is not an option. I just have to wait it out till my prayers are answered.
No matter how long it takes.
Ok was that good? R&S if you like and check out my other stories.
Till then,
Adieu,
Rebecca2701