The Dark Soul

"Why are you here?" The man asked.

I looked up, my eyes welling with tears. "I already told you," I sobbed. "I don't know..."

"No. Tell me why." He ordered. His voice was low and stern, yet eerily haunting. His eyes pierced into mine. Dark blue eyes, the darkest blue you can imagine. I had never seen anything like them before. His hair was long and brushed right past his shoulders, hanging loosely against his face. He did not move. He just sat there glaring at me very intently.

I began to scream, slamming my whole body down to the floor, grabbing fistfuls of hair, screaming again and again and again. It felt like days, even weeks that I had been here. In this same dark room, with nothing or no one in sight. Just me and this man. My mind was spinning, my body ached in severe pain. I knew why I was here, but I did not want to say. And nothing that this man said or did would make me change my mind. He would have to let me go. He had too...

The man sat across from me in a large black chair, his hands placed neatly in his lap. He was so calm, too calm. How could he watch me suffer? How could he sit there and see me agonize? How could he watch me torture myself? How dare he...

"This is getting you no where." The man said. He stood up slowly and began making circles around my weak body, limp on the cold dark floor. I could feel his coat, his long dark coat, brushing against my arm with every turn. "You will not leave until you tell me why you are here."

"I don't know." I began to weep. "I don't know, I don't know..."

"Calm down." He commanded. I could feel his presence towering over me. I shook with fear.

"I can't!" I yelled. "I'm trapped! You did this to me! You did this on purpose!"

"I did not do this. You are here for a reason. The one who sent you here knows best. You deserve this." 

"No! Tell him to let me go! Tell him now!" I slammed my fist against the hard ground. Black. Everything was black. This room surpassed any and every form of mental infirmary known to man. I was going crazy. My mind kept on spinning and spinning and my body convulsed in anger. "I do not deserve this! No! Let me go! I need to go home!" I closed my eyes and kept on shouting until my voice began to crack in exhaustion, my fists still beating against the floor. They burned with pain. When I finally opened my eyes, they were red. Blood red.

I screamed, standing up abruptly to examine them in utter shock. I screamed again, and again and again until nothing else could come out.

"Come here." The man said. 

'No! My hands, my hands! Their-"

"Come here!" He shouted. His voice radiated like thunder. I froze, eyes wide, staring at the man. I wanted to refuse him, but every bone in my body told me that this manhad more power than I wanted to deal with. I had to obey him with no choice. Ever so slowly I inched my way towards where he stood, until we were just feet apart. I stared into his deep blue eyes, breathing heavily. I could still feel warm tears dripping down my face. They wouldn't stop. They would never so long as I was here.

"Hold out your hands." He said, reaching out his own. I hesitated for moments, and then reluctantly extended them out to him. He gently touched the palms of my hands as I closed my eyes, feeling for the first time in what seemed like ages, peace. I exhaled. When I opened my eyes again, the blood was gone. All that was left were my hands, without a trace of imperfection.

"How did you do that?" I whispered, barely audible.

"You still have not figured it out yet, have you?" He asked, stroking my face with his left hand. For a split second I could feel his warmth, a soft side of him that I had not seen since I came here. Did he sympathize for me? I shook my head back and forth, wanting desperately to believe this was all a dream.  What have I done to deserve this?