Episode LV~ Escapism

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Feeling the flesh burn under the glare of cruel daylight, a possessed Jamshed dunks into the shadowy corner nearest to the deity's stone idol

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Feeling the flesh burn under the glare of cruel daylight, a possessed Jamshed dunks into the shadowy corner nearest to the deity's stone idol. His teeth chatter continuously as if he was walking the freezing North barefoot. A ringing sensation was echoing in his ears. The smallest sound reverberated like the thumping foot pads of a tyrannosaurus. His nails scratched the skin of his arms and chest, digging deep to eliminate an itch that developed the moment he was tossed inside the holy sanctum mercilessly by the hands of that girl. His bones felt fragile, tiniest movement sent a jolt of unbridled pain. The area around his eyes was slowly turning reddish while dark blue spots were splotched on greasy flesh. A sign of a decrease in the amount of oxygen in the body, leading to a fall in the rate of metabolism and normal organ functions.

The man laments in anguish.

Frustrated and agonized by cavernous starvation, he thrusts fingers in his hair and pulls out a chunk with no remorse. The pain supplies a moment of distraction making him sigh. His gut was twisting due to gargantuan hunger. The longer he stays in the human body without the supply of flesh and blood, the quicker he loses his power and sanity. He has to find a way out of it. If the human body dies, he might get trapped in it forever or burst into a million pieces before disintegrating into the atmosphere like he never existed. Or he might get his release once the humans burn this body following the ritual of last rites, but that will only happen after he suffers the excruciating third-degree burn until the bones of the cadaver turn into ash.

Here, beneath the dome of God, he felt a sense of powerlessness. It never happened before. In his long existence as a cursed energy, rejuvenating and putrefying in the pits of hell, torturing and devouring souls, and working as the messenger of doom, not once did he doubt his capability as the harbinger of darkness. Whenever he was summoned into the mortal realm to fulfil ill desires, he proved his prowess by granting wishes, solidifying the faith of lost minds more into the unholy entities. Mortals seek him only when they realize that their faith in god wouldn't endow what his sinful presence could. When one grasps that their mind has corrupted to a point of no return and their soul has become impure by burning in the fire of jealousy and hatred, they establish no holy water or ray of sunshine could cleanse the imprint of debauchery wringing their bones, and hopeless they surrender in the eye of fate.

Most drown, unable to bear the burden of their filthy deeds in the marsh of guilt and self-contempt, but there are a few who don't stop paddling. To overcome the doom and boost their endgame, they seek guidance and a way out of the grave they dug for themself.

This is where he enters as an agent of the forbidden. He possesses a talent for birthing greed in the minds of his worshippers. His promises sound so enticing that they get ready to sell their soul for the smallest pothole.

A soul was the greatest currency in his world. The more you devour, the more powerful you become.

His illegal presence in the world of light was a mocking salute to God.

Nakshatra- The empire of Nightmares and Dreams.Onde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora