The Heart of Insanity {{In Edits}}

Bonus Content - Heaven or Hell

He dies, and yet lives again. But how is that possible without it being in the hearts of others? Everyone faces their judgment day, everybody does. Some time ago, even the golden hearted, lovely, smiling face of Ian Mankester, found his judgment day. No one saw it coming. It just happened. 

One day he was seized, like a seizure but so much worse. Like a heart attack, but again, so much worse. An unconsciousness so beguiling to the mind, that you would’ve thought, he had already passed. But it was worse. Again so much worse. I would say it was dream, but it was far far from a pretty little dream where golden sand swirls and takes your pain away. But no, again so much worse. More like a nightmare who rides and takes your life, the blackness of its sheek body pummeling over and over, until you break. Break like a twig, there is no going back.

First he saw, the darkness that eats all, the fiery pits of Hell that devour all who enter. Again, just the beginning of something worse than every imaginable. Ian was always brave, and strong with courage of lion, and the determination of a stallion so unwilling to be tamed. But that disease that ate away at his organs, slowly shutting him down, put him in this place with the wild, fiery eyed, black nightmares. A Hell with its acrid odor that is so hard to explain. It was taste like all of your worst, most hated, foods together. Other than that, it was completely indescribable. You could say, its like eating dung, but it was worse. Those foods mixed to together, and then come right back up again, adding that acid of the stomach to the mix. What a way to burn right? To burn the flesh from your skin, like boiling hot water pouring over the paleness of your flesh, turning it pink with irritation, then red with burns, even a tinge of black, the color you get when the skin crisps up. Then the black peels away, leaving pink muscle behind then that still gets burned. The red blood then seeps up from the delicate muscles, and that tries forming a new skin. Yet, is unsuccessful. It can’t heal what has been broken, what has been torn away. It just adds a fresh layer to be ripped off again. Again, and again. Does it end? Does the sensation of burning, of dying, of the eternal torture ever ending? No. It can’t. That’s just a taste of Hell. A place that is black, deep darkness, and burning, and killing, and never ending. 

 But you ask, why did he get this? This abomination that you would’ve never thought sweet Ian to get? Honestly, it was for a taste, a vision, words unspoken - not even the tormented souls of Hell speak a word, or make a sound about the terrors and the tortures. The sight, the feeling of your skin being taken off your very body, separated from your muscles and your bones. Now that he has seen and experienced Hell, the Fates take away that torment, letting the flesh come back from being blackened and bloodied, to fresh and pink, like new skin after the old has sloughed off. What could have brought this healing? Well, the answer is simple. Only Heaven could bring that type of healing, to reverse the effects of Hell. Instead of darkness, there is light that is not too harsh nor is it too dull. The happy medium of a bright yet soothing light that glances off the glass spires that make up Heaven. Guardians with their soft, white, downy wings, bring in all new inhabitants. Ian Mankester only being one of the many that pass through those warm, welcoming, golden gates that lead into the most peaceful afterlife anyone could ask for. Gone was the acrid odor of death, replaced with a sweet smell of all kinds of flowers, and new birth. New life. No more was the torment and torture upon the flesh of man, taking its place, a sweet serenity of a wash, a caress. Ambrosia and nectar - the foods of Heaven that heal all - removed the taste of foul that Hell had left upon his tongue. The taste was indescribable in a different fashion - both ambrosia and nectar flavored to be whatever is your favorite. Sounds of birds and other forms of life filled the air in a calming harmony. It was incredibly peaceful here, the souls talked of their past lives without fear. Unlike the souls in Hell who were terrified to utter a word unless they’d be stricken down. 

Life and death. Peace and war. Harmony and torture. Those make up the two sides of humanity’s afterlife. Heaven and Hell. Earth is nothing of those things, yet most believe it is a mixture of both. The in between state. Now that both are explained, it’ll be decided one judgment day where dear Ian goes. He did a lot of good, but also bad. Maybe that is why the Fates showed him a taste of both. The sweetness of Heaven, and the bitterness of Hell. We all go and have this. Let’s just all hope we cross those golden gates of Heaven instead of the dark, sinister ones of Hell. Only the Fates know where we lie.

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Okay. Just some extra. This was an assignment for my English class, write a descriptive essay - so I did. With beloved Ian.
Please tell me what you think. :)
Now that the story is done, I'm having someone help me edit and make this story better.
But you my readers....you. Do you want to do a one-shot? Fan art? Banners? Trailers? Covers? You name it. I'm accepting these things for awhile. (: just remember, when I edit, that chapter may...may ...feature something of yours....
Good luck!
Oh. And look for "Chasing Stars of Memphis." That's the sequel....I'll be starting it soon hopefully.
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