Tampered Thread

April 17, 2018
He awoke in pure gloom, finding himself hung from a silk thread wrapped around the finger of holy himself. Dangled he stayed, his eyes opened and graded the harrowed landscape before him. Not a blot, not a smear, not a smudge of a humane ritual could be identified. Darkened, horrendous, a blazing holocaust was ascertain. Cognizant not of the holy but of its antithetical, he was shaken—mentally and physically he rid himself of hope and determination.

There he stayed, for 38 Days being exposed to the true horrors of the underworld, a genocidal parade it was. Tsunamis of flames were taken in place of water, the wretched cries of unfortunate souls were heard clearly. What originally he felt as a dream was quickly turning into reality and it wasn’t slowing down. He shut his eyes, hoping rest would assuage what he had seen, so he drifted off.

Awoken, again, by the indistinct loosening of the thread holding the man from inevitable death. This wasn’t the doing of the holy, but instead the actions of someone demonic, someone who enjoyed the unrelenting sight of torture and homicide, someone who feasted on the flesh of the innocent and grew stronger with each fallen teardrop. This was it, his last stand, the end of his world, the final straw in the deciding factor of eternal life or death. It snaps, he descends as he feels his soul leave his body and flashes back memories of his past. Suddenly, he’s stopped, suspended again he was—but by not a piece of thread instead, a young little angel, who’s demeanor of innocence and cherubic features masked her powerful grasp and resplendent presence. What was left of an irreligious man was close to none, filled with pious and devout belief in the holy, he had hope once more.

The nascent sky came into view, what not blue was a beautiful white, ostentatious, filled with stars and the hint of a melodic symphony could be made out from above. The universe vibrated—that’s when he heard it, the voice of the lord, a shackling thunderous roar consumed the cacophony of screams and sparking flames diminishing them instantly. He could feel his soul re enter his body as the blank world around him shifted into light; making way for a stairway covered in gold and rosary, angels lined the boundaries of the stairway as he walked upward chaperoned by the Holy Ghost.





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