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The man whimpered as two pairs of hands dragged him to the chamber he had come to dread. Their long dirty fingernails dug into his hair as he resisted with all his might, feet stubbornly refusing to move, only to find that all resistance was futile. With a shove he was inside.
It was small and round with an assortment of sinister looking devices scattered around. The walls were covered with various shiny and sharp tools, much like the teeth of a hungry predator, waiting for their next prey. Big iron manacles swung lazily from the ceiling. Racks and boards of all shapes and sizes crowded one corner. He had spent yesterday on one of those boards, naked as the day he was born, hands and legs fastened, spluttering as water was poured down his throat till he could take it no more.
Today he was back. Just like he had been every day for the past week. To be tortured in innovative ways till he blacked out.
He shuddered and fell on his knees. Tears streamed down his face, creating furrows on his dust laden face, as he beseeched, bawled and blabbered.
“No, no, no, no. Please don’t do this to me again. I can’t take it anymore. Please forgive me. I am sorry. Have mercy on me.”
His words were met with complete silence. The chamber echoed with his shrieks as his hands were seized and tied together. The festering wounds on his arms burst open, oozing blood and pus. He kept hollering as they tied the manacles around his wrists and hoisted his body up into the air.
When the cat-o-nine-tails kissed his back for the first time, he bellowed and cursed. However subsequent whippings saw the bravado desert him, and he begged until the blood ran in rivulets down his frame. His battered body could take it no longer. With a sigh, his soul left his body which now hung limp from the ceiling, a grotesque display.
“Is he dead?” A voice asked, all honey and butter, but with something sour underneath.
“Yes, Lord Morningstar,” the demons replied.
A shadow hovered over the body, which sighed once more. The man spluttered as he vomited blood. Then he started crying, the ugly kind.
The voice spoke.
“You scorned God and the afterlife. Greed was your God, one that required the blood of innocent people, even kids.
But there is a God. A wrathful one for sinners like you. With heaven and hell as his kingdoms.
This is your hell. To live, and die, and live once more. Again and again. To carry your wounds, your pain, your hurts forever. To feel what each soul felt, refreshed every day, till eternity.
Till the day you have shown true penitence. Mercy will then be yours. Till then… Well, we do need some distractions in hell.” The voice sneered.
The demons brought the man down and carried him away as a pair of giant wings unfolded and disappeared.
*****
Lord Morningstar: Euphemism for the devil
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The Eternal Punishment
