literature

Abyssus Incendia: Hellfire

Deviation Actions

MusicianInTraining's avatar
Published:
162 Views

Literature Text

Abyssus Incendia: Hellfire
Screams pierced the air as two strong men dragged a struggling girl up to a black iron gate. She squealed as they pushed the gate open.
"Let me go, let me go!!"
They ignored her please and cries as they stalked through the crispy-fallen leaves. Looking around, the girl finally realised where they were; a cemetary. The cemetary. The color drained and her blood ran cold as she caught sight of a large, dark sign with bone-white lettering across the face that read: McLemore Cemetary. The very place that every good Christian tried to avoid, for this was the place where the foulest of the foul dwell, and where the gateway to Hell opens to its prey. She gulped fearfully; the golden cross that hung around her neck suddenly felt ice-cold, and she found herself wishing longingly that it were a noose.
The wind died out as they threw her shaking body in front of a particularly large gravestone. She examined it; there was no name, but an eerie inscription that read:
infractus animus of inconsumptus recubo hic , fatum ut an infinitio of abyssus...*
She could've sworn that the dark splotches dripping down the stone were bloodstains. Her head slumped downward, her dark hair slipping over her fear-enscorched face as she whimpered:
"Please, let me go; I beg of you..."
"Begging never works on me. Countless times i've begged for mercy, and mercy was always denied...always."
The poor girl's breathing stopped; a neww chill swept through her spirit as she felt her heart skip a beat...or has it just completely halted? She dared not look up to see who possed the new voice which spoke. There was a sharp snapping of fingers, and then her restraints vanished. She fell onto her knees, wincing as her bare skin made contact with the frigid ground. She was still in her nightgown, for her captors had viciously pulled her from her slumber.
Her face still drooped towards the ground as the voice approached slowly, its breathing steady and ghostly. One more step; she could feel his icy breath glide across the back of her neck.
Suddenly, an icy grip encircled around her chin, constricting her windpipe and cutting off her air flow, sending a new wave of fear through her soul. A chalky hand forced her gaze upward, her butter-scotch eyes meeting dark crimson. The man smiled:
"What is your name, child?"
She couldn't answer; she couldn't breathe. The man cocked his head, urging her to speak.
"...Why am I here?"
Her voice was merely a sigh, the short sentence putting an emense amount of strain on her ever-beating pulse.
"I do not believe that was the answer to the question I asked, and my question came first."
She didn't answer. The man frowned, then ever-so-slightly tilted her head to the side. The movement caused her hair to slide off her shoulder, revealing a large amount of bare neck. Another snap of the fingers, and another figure appeared next to her. The man let go of her, then took a step back.
Pain scorched through her soul as the figure attacked, sinking his murderous fangs into her neck and brutally draining her of blood. Her scream slit the night like a razor, filling the air with a bone-chilling cry of agony. The man smiled as he watched the hellish creature hurt her so, rather enjoying the show himself. Her breath turned to ice in her throat as the pain increased. Her scream stopped abruptly as the cold fire emersed her soul in it's spiteful hands, the creature countinuing on with his gluttinous feeding off of her life.
After the hour-felt minutes of hellish pain, the man snapped his thin fingers once again; the vampire reluctantly released her. She collapsed onto the ground, crying, whimpering, bleeding from the deep wound and shaking horribly from the still-existent pain.
"Now...your name?"
"M-Mel-Melanie," she spoke, her voice crackling through the tears that unhauntingly flowed. The man nodded:
"Yes...you see, cooperation is not that difficult, is it?"
He side-stepped around Melanie, not taking his eyes off of her slumped-over body.
"...How old are you Melanie?"
"F-fourteen."
She looked up at him:
"Why am I here? P-please, let me go--"
"Speak only when spoken to!"
She immediatly closed her mouth, staring at his devilish face. He took a step closer to her, eyeing her necklace with certain interest. His spider-like fingers entwined around the chain, then yanked the cross loose from her neck. He examined it, whispering as he did:
"Yes...this will do nicely. A perfect example of the symbol that ruined my life."
He threw it on the gravestone, the grabbed Melanie's arm and held it over the necklace, wrist-up. He then withdrew a dagger from his cloak and said:
"This, Melanie, is why you are here."
She blanched and tried to run, but he worked fast; he swiftly drew a line across her inner arm, splitting the veins and arteries. Melanie gasped, he eyes rolling towards the back of her head as her body slumped over the gravestone, the last of the blood that the vampire didn't drink spurting out of the cut and opnto the necklace, stone, and ground. The man laughed ruefully as the ground burst open beneath them, Melanies unblemished soul screaming as they swept through the fire that marked the arrival in Hell.

~~onyx~~

*English translation: The broken souls of the undiminished lie here, doomed to an eternity of Hell...
Soooo back when I had a Quizilla account, I posted this as a prologue to a story entitled "Onyx." And then I didn't really know how to continue it. Well, I did, but just got lazy. :P So now I call it a random short story of types. I've told it around campfires before and it scared the sh*t out of people; feel free to do the same. :D
© 2011 - 2024 MusicianInTraining
Comments3
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In