Her sexual deviance started at a young age. The demons roared as they watched her deflower herself, then beg for sexual attention ending in rape after rape, then marrying men for money, then being beat and raped, and exiled.
Scenes descended into the ultimate lustful darkness as she entertained animals for promise of money which never came. The levels of lasciviousness she dwelt in were not unheard of but it was rare to see, to these monsters of old.
Her face was of death. She could no longer watch her atrocious life choices, though she had no option. With her strongest intention, she gazed through the visuals, attempting to sedate herself with nothingness.
“Focus, you little slut.” The Abomination couldn’t control himself anymore being barricaded behind his own gates. He chose to walk freely amongst these new pieces of trash. He owned them now and he needed to meet and greet them.
“You must watch because you cannot escape all the choices you made. They are all you have, whore! This is as good as it gets for you so I suggest you take it all in, for soon, the flaming numbness you must embrace will push you to wish and beg and scream for visions of your old life and old self. Your torment, you filthy girl, will be deafeningly sweet.”
She continually twitched, trying to fend off the biting, squeezing snakes, as did all captives under the Abominations watch on this cusp of Hell. He watched her struggle and he placed his hand on the serpent’s belly. Instantly, they vanished, freeing her hands and feet. “There. You are free.” The Abomination whispered into her ear and she ran blindly, her life still unfolding in her mind, and she fell into a trench with the surplus of serpent’s residing.
Immediately, they coiled themselves around her throat and all limbs, squeezing and puncturing with razor teeth and thousands of jaws. Death would not come; only the suffering of a thousand hungry serpent’s feeding on you in the most gratuitous manner imaginable.
The Abomination strolled quietly amidst the captives, brimming with chance of welcoming those initiated and past the first stages of acceptance into the hungry pit of eternal slavery.
On the furthest wing, many of the new acquisitions had viewed their lives and were now free to roam without much torment among a bubble of space, like a communal prison cell, though more vast and less populated. He took this opportunity to visit with the doomed souls, one at a time.
These spirits visibly bled openly from almost every limb and orifice. One tried to nurse his wounds, audibly trying to convince himself this was just a dream.
The master of all lies interceded generously. “The dream you are in… most dream sequences end and you wake, am I right, my friend?” The damaged soul looked at him, shuddering to his very core. “Yes.”
The Abomination took his hands in his and squeezed tight. “This dream you feel you’re in will not end in daylight. This is my gift to you. This is only the beginning of a non-stop nightmare from which you will never leave nor wake from. I did not create nor did I design your life; that was yours to make of it what you did. I, however, have created your eternity, my friend.”
He continued, ever so earnest, without any facial expression. “One filled with torments unseen and pain so surreal your lips and all of your celestial being will call out for an end. But that end will not come. You are mine and I am yours. Welcome to Hell.”
The spirit let go of the Abominations grip and he screamed for help. He begged for an exit; for anything but this. A group of Unredeemed approached him and flailed him with chains of fire and chains of ice. The laughter was deafening as the beating progressed into murder, as his lifeless spirit corpse endured the aggression. Without the ability to close his eyes or die as a mortal could, the suffering continued and more Agitators joined the fun.
Pummeled and without mercy, his blood ran fast and dark, and it dripped off the torso’s of the enemies that toyed with him. “Welcome to forever!” All chanted this while they had their way with this eternal inhabitant.
Numbers tallied in the hundreds in that window of brutality and separation from any sign of hope or release. And the welcoming committee intensified their strangle hold on the over flow of the damned.