Hell Awaits ~ Prologue

No one knows what is on the other side. There are plenty of theories. That is one thing that is never lacking. But none, of the thousands, is completely correct. Heaven and Hell. The most popular with mortals, is also the one that strikes closest to the truth. But Hell is not a place of torture, it is simply a sinner’s paradise. The place that you really don’t want to end up is Earth. But the only way that can ever happen is reincarnation, which is extremely rare, especially among humans. It only ever happens when a soul has been tortured and broken to the point of becoming nonexistent. Then it must complete another life and remain whole. Only then can it find peace.

~x~x~x

Narra took another trembling step in the burning ocean of ever flowing sand. Her bare feet were already bleeding and blistered, but she had to continue. She would not stop. She was going to make it to freedom. There was no way she was giving up now. She would never go back.

Memories of Avery suddenly flooded her mind. Tears filled her eyes, a couple spilling over and flowing down her cheeks. She couldn’t go on. The memories froze her body. More tears came, flowing faster now, burning her cheeks. She put her fragile hand up to wipe the tears away. When her hand came down, it was covered in blood.

Narra screamed. Blood was pouring from her eyes! Now the nightmares flooded her mind. The blazing heat, her bleeding eyes. That one had been the most horrific, the most vivid. She had woken up screaming after it. And now it was a reality. This was way worse than any nightmare. She screamed again as she tried to make the blood go away.

She began clawing at her face. If she was going to bleed, it was going to be for a reason, not because she was crying blood. As she clawed, her skin began to peel off and fall down into the sand, mixing in. She scratched harder and faster when she realized that she was damaging herself. This had never happened before. Why now?

She screamed again in pain. She could not take this. There was a pause in her frantic tearing, then she began again with more vigor. Now she began pealing off the skin that was still left. Her blood was now flowing in rivers to the ground, where it pooled in the sand and was quickly absorbed.

And Narra’s tears flowed on and on. Cries of torment issued from her mouth and echoed throughout the empty, blazing desert. Her heartbeats raced and then slowed down dramatically, her breathing shallow. She couldn’t take it. It was too much. Why was she doing this? There was no reason, and she had to stop. Otherwise she would die.

At this thought, her hands immediately leapt away from her tattered, bloody face. She had not escaped Avery to come out to the desert and die. She was going to make it to the other side, and she was going to live out the rest of her years in freedom, like the rest of her kind. None of them were enslaved, and so, neither was she. And things were going to stay like that. None of her people had ever died a slave, she was not going to start the tragedy, it was not going to be because of her.

She began to move her feet again. Taking one slow, painful step at a time, trying desperately to not fall over. Exhaustion was starting to have an effect on her. She didn’t have much longer until she collapsed. But, still, she forced herself to keep moving, bloody, crying, and screaming. She wasn’t going to stop for anything now.

Water. She needed water, craved it. There was nothing else in the world that she saw in her mind’s eye as vividly as nice, crisp, cool water. The gentle way that it flowed down your throat and satisfied your thirst. Her mouth suddenly seemed much drier than it had a couple seconds ago.

Narra stopped walking. She needed a short rest. That was it. Then she would be able to continue as before, taking one slow, torturous step after another. But, oh, to sit here, and let what little breeze there was, flow over her pained face…

Her eyelids drooped, she wasn’t going to be able to get up. But she didn’t care. She wanted to sleep, she wanted her face to heal. The blood would be gone by the time she woke up, then she would feel much better…

Or would she? Would the peace of sleep just make reality seem more hellish than it already seemed? Would she be able to get up after a nice little rest? Was there even going to be a point where she woke up after her sleep? Or would she get lost in the eternal sleep? She wasn’t going to find out, she wasn’t going to chance it. She could not afford the risk.

Onward she moved. Not pausing for her aching feet, returning to scratch at her still bleeding face. Sand had gotten into the wounds, and now they stung lie crazy. She could not leave her face alone! Something had to be done to stop the burning sensation.

Her fingernails tore at her bleeding flesh once again, making the blood flow get worse and worse. She dug in deep and pushed harder when she discovered that it eased the pain. Her blood was now pouring in rivers down her face and onto the ground. She took a couple more steps, then her legs gave out. She had lost too much blood, she was too weak to go on.

Narra cried even harder than she had been. She began tearing more vigorously at her face in frustration. Deeper and deeper she got. Closer to the bone. Starting at her forehead, she scraped down. On the way down, she caught one of her eyes and pulled it out.

She picked it up and screamed louder than ever before. Her hands had finally stopped scratching. On and on her scream went. But it kept getting quieter and quieter. Eventually, she stopped screaming, laid her head down, and closed her eye. Breathing in her last breaths, her tormented mind dwelled on the fact that she never made it to freedom...