“There was something not quite right about the window, looking back on the events of that day. If I’d been honest with myself, I’d have paid attention to the frost creeping across the pane in mid-July. Alas, I so rarely pay attention to my instincts or intuition, and thus, I ended up here; in Hell.
“Did I know what was coming for me? Not precisely, but I knew it would come eventually. I chose not to run partially out of laziness and partially because it was futile. If the Lord of the Dead wanted me, he would have me.” The speaker’s voice is gravelly, but I suspect affected, based on the information I knew about him.
“Have you even met the Lord?” My voice cuts through the din of his audience and he turns, searching in vain for a moment. When I step from the shadows, a smirk spreads across his face.
“Have you, little girl?” The grin is a leer now and I catch the eye of Ranna, General of Hell’s Army, warning her to stand down.
“Well, I did look in the mirror this morning, so I suppose that I have.” I can feel my grin spreading, almost a baring of teeth, as I watch his fade from his face.
In Search of a Story 