The Nobility of Justice | Teen Ink

The Nobility of Justice

November 22, 2012
By almanza08 BRONZE, Lewisville, Texas
almanza08 BRONZE, Lewisville, Texas
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
Who cares about what the critics say? No one has ever made a statue dedicated to one!


My eyes shot open. A soft, creaking, sound was pertaining the room, intensifying the pulses of blood through my heart. I breathed heavily, my tense arms shaky as I pulled off my sheets to inspect the creaking, noxious closet door...
As my steps pushed me forward, and my hands yearning for the handle, the slightly open door, my fingertips emitted a noxious chill that went through my spine and dilated my pupils. Grasping my hand around the handle, with all my fear and tenseness I pulled the door open, the ghastly breeze sweeping my face, only a fraction of the atrocious horror that lay concealed!
But it was darkness, emptiness, and then none.
This was supposed to be a moment of relief, but peace fled from my mind and body as my conscious distrusted that I was safe. Doubt abhorred my mind and pounded my chest, and bold steel letters rang in my head: IT IS STILL THERE.
It? My mind asked with desperation and mentality as I walked backwards slowly to my bed. What is "it"? WHAT IS "IT"?! What could possibly be there, lurking unseen in the darkness, an intangible force or spirit, driving my sanity in a full retreat?
Then a piercing, deceiving thought invaded my mind: IT IS NOTHING.
Nothing!
With this trickery, I cast my eyes off of the wide open closet door with nothing in it.
But then, while turning, I realized this thoughts lurid trickery! "Nothing", solely nothing, was something!!
Realizing this, I quickly turned around-AND THE CLOSET DOOR WAS CLOSED!
And when I blinked, in that SPLIT second, where my eyes saw the darkness behind the back of my tense eyelids, a huge, stiff hand clawed my throat roughly and pushed me below to meet eyes with Artheus, his vile eyes piercing down at me, and he whispered harshly, his cold, bland, lifeless breath swirling through my nostrils, "Your filthy God can't save you now, can He?" and with a flash his arm was thrust and it came down; a glint of a sword, piercing my stomach, piercing my sanity, not stopping through the mattress!
Drowning through pools of blood, I gargled, "You may have won the battle, but..." I gasped, "You will not win...the war...against God!"
And Artheus merely sneered.


The author's comments:
I dunno, man...it's a passage from a story I'm writing.

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