I walked through the gates of hell. Literally. It is just as I remember it. Bubbling lava cascaded around a grand castle, painted black, at the core of hell. The old, crumbling bridge looked as un-stable as ever, and the cries and screams of lost souls pierced my ears, as I walked over it.
The castle towered above me. A great inky looming monster of hell. I pushed open the door. It was heavy and wooden, with a brass knocker with a hell hound decorated onto it. It looked like it had not been polished in over a century. (It probably hadn’t.)
Behind the door it was all black and red. There was a massive staircase in the middle that twisted up into the tower with the best view in the whole castle. The blood red carpet stretched endlessly to the far wall, were it was met by a tall set of French windows, with a pair of black velvet curtains.
I drifted through the room; my reflection followed me in the old-fashioned, cracked mirror that stretched from one end of the room to the other. I passed red and black furniture on my way to the French windows. I finally got there and I wrenched them open, yanking at the old brass handles.
The smell of burning flesh hit me like a torpedo. I sniffed the air. Then came the fire. Rolling towards me. Hitting me like an angry fury. The heat burnt through my nose, setting my throat on fire. The smell of it set my lungs a-flame.
I could almost taste the soft meaty flesh of the corpses that live here. I stepped back and touched the soft velvet of the coal coloured curtains. I could hear my feet sinking into the thick carpet, as silence clouded my ears…
YOU ARE READING
The Angles
Short StoryIvy, a teenager in a normal high school, get's her life changed when the new girl comes to school. Quickly, Ivy learns that the girl is not, well, human. But as She get's to know the girl more she realizes that there is more to her than there seems.
