Hell is Empty

Hell is Empty- Chapter 1

I am infinite. I am the sky and the sea and everything in between. There is no force on earth that can stop me and I let the world know that. I laugh as it crumbles around me. As continents rise and fall at a flick of my wrist. Fires burn and there is screaming everywhere, god it's everywhere and it's so loud. It's so fucking loud.

And suddenly the smoke burns my lungs and I am plummeting and still the screaming goes on, mixing with a ringing sound so high pitched I don't know how I can hear it. But then I remember that I am a god. I am God. I can do everything.

And now I'm laughing again, floating out of the ashes all around me. The ashes of so many lives. Gone in an instant. Shouting mingles with the screams but it's muffled. I don't want to hear it so why should I?

The world burns around me in shades of vermilion and carnage. My skin is red to match the destruction; my destruction, my reckoning. The smoke billows around me as I glide and I see that what I have done is good. The destruction I have wrought delights me and I scream with glee one last time before I rest.

I wake in a sterile environment, or as sterile as they get any more. My lungs burn when I breathe and something covers my face. There are people running about me. So many people all moving so much. My breathing quickens and the shallow, short gasps hurt my aching chest even more. I rip the mask off my face; I need to taste the air. I need to not see. Need to not hear. I am shaking. I don't know how I got here. I don't know where I am. Who are these people?

There are hands on me, holding me down and I realise I have been screaming. A vaguely familiar prick stings my upper arm as I stare for a moment into the eyes of the woman touching me. Why is she touching me? Tired eyes. Such tired eyes. Eyes that have been awake and seen too much and just want to close for a moment. I plead with her silently but she stares through me; I am just another bad memory to be wiped at the end of the day. Or maybe I'm not actually real at all.

A heaviness washes over me and I sleep again.

The next what I can assume is a day passes in and out of consciousness and I have finally recognised the feeling: sedation. I can feel the panic under the enforced drowsiness, but for the moment, it isn't allowed to surface. I am in hell.

The world slowly focuses and I am gently being helped into a sitting position. Something cool touches my flaking lips: water. Images sharpen around me as I grasp the bottle and drink deeply. Almost instantly, it is snatched away again, leaving me dazed and hurt, a child who doesn't understand why their favourite toy has been taken away. Sounds hit me in waves, like music playing in a distant room, muffled and foggy. A woman, Tired Eyes, is speaking to me, but I can't understand her. The words sound English, as does the accent, but somehow I can't find meaning in them. The air catches in my throat and she leans over me and finally the words mean something.

"Do you understand me? Do you speak English?"

"Yes." I gasp, surprised as my voice cracks from under use and dehydration.

"What is your name?" She asks, speaking slowly and loudly as you would to grandma when she asks you to repeat the sentence. I blink rapidly, searching my memory for this most basic piece of information.

"Callie. Callie Synne."

"Okay Callie, do you know where you are?" I shake my head, finally looking away from Tired Eyes to the room, or rather tent, around me.

"You are in a field hospital. The safe zone you were in was bombed. Your lungs were somewhat damaged from smoke inhalation and you’ve got some second degree burns on your arm, but you are almost fine other than that. Other than..." She trails off and I look at her properly. Despite her eyes, she is young, very young. She can only be a year or two older than me. No way is she fully qualified for this job.