Why…?

I found death to be a great disappointment-especially my own. There was no light at the end of a darkened tunnel, nor was there fire and brimstone, or even flights of angels. It was just a transference-a moving from one area to another-as if through a crystal screen. It is not a painful transcribing, more of a bewilderment, a wondering of why I am here.

I walk slowly through the area I am currently in, a plane of lies and half-truths. I listen to the screams and torment of the people I have hurt in my lifetime. I vaguely picture their faces, old and young, knowing and unknowing. I clasp my hands over my ears to try and lessen their screams, but to no avail… I can feel the blood running through my fingers, running down the base of my neck…

I scream slowly as I feel the blade enter my back, my eyes focusing slowly on the face of my lover…my killer. I can feel the knife skewering my vital organs. I reach out to her, my mouth forming the words that will never be spoken…Why…? Her eyes fill with a gentle rage. "You have betrayed me. You used my gift of prescience for your own twisted schemes. I told you everything you wanted to know, although it leeched my soul every time…" I stop listening to her than for, at that moment, in suspended time, I truly realize who she is. "Oh, my God…N…!"

…to pool on the ground below me. I scream out my frustration, my hand clenching around the throat of my dead mother's spirit. But she vaporizes under my touch. Spinning around, I see my father kneeling, his hands held upright in a silent plea for help. I try to turn away, to flee from this…this hell, yet as I start to run, my spilt blood tendrils up and wraps me in its unwavering grasp. "You, my friend…are mine…"

I turn at the sound, my hands filling with the last remnants of my mortal magic. "Who's there?", I scream, black fire slowly wrapping itself around my arms. The fire burns away the blood clinging to me, making me free once more. As I watch, a shadow coalesces together to form the image of a demonic Seraphim. Not taking any time to talk to this devilish vision, I mutter a few arcane words under my breath and send wave after wave of mystical fire slamming into him. Yet to no avail. He…she…it simply disappears and shimmers into existence elsewhere.

"What the hell do you want?," I manage to gasp out, silencing the fire as I realize that I can do nothing against my adversary.

"You, of course….you do know who this is, don't you?"

"Yes, I do know who it is, Father." I swallow against the lump in my throat. My father, the Devil? It seems so strange, and yet…it sounds so like him. My father…who was once one of the most heroic Angelics who had ever been? It just didn't make sense…

"Father, you know what? I will never join you, so why the hell would you even ask?" As I am talking, raw, unchannelled energy coarses through my veins. As my 'father' watches me, I slowly burn to ash. "I will be back, father, and when I return, you will pay…"