Writing

A tormenting blaze swelled before you, mirroring in your frightened eyes. The ravenous, amethystine burn pulsated in waves of severe boil, burgeoning in alarming measures. It was you, the starved flames, a thicket of suicidal brambles, and your possible demise. You bowed low to the soil, ensnared and captive with nowhere to go. Your spine probed against the thorns that severed into your flesh; ribbons of scarlet slowly dripping down your ragged hind-legs. You hysterically glimpsed around you through the smoke, the wicked plumes seizing your throat in its sooty fingers as it strangled and pushed you to the edge of asphyxiation. Through the sea of ash and lather of sweat that seeped into your face, you could barely make out a an exalted image. You flinched frailly; then you saw it- a mammoth of a creature; it’s radiant eyes ablaze with an auric chromaticity, it's grand physique seemingly immune to the torching burn. It’s mangled face rippled as the raging heat contorted the milieu, a sensation of severe fright whipping you to your senses. The phenomenal being was not of the supernatural, but extraordinary a colossal dog. It coasted across the terrain, throwing what seemed to be a severed body part into the flames, a sickening nausea tingling in your stomach. As you watched from the hushing veil of ebbing smoke, the vision before you became sharper: a mass of hounds stood over a detached corpse; it’s entrails pulled from its body. The atrocity knocked the sense out of you as you screamed with horror, the hounds’ fatal eyes jamming into your own. As you stood helpless, one of the hounds spoke with with a bellow of peccancy, their weighty jowls splitting in a cry. Their words you would never forget as long as you lived.

“Hail, hail! Welcome Year Zero!”

The roar was demonic and destructive, sending you into a delusion of madness. Although fearful, you longed to know the hounds. You longed to see who they were, and to be one of them. So you ventured further as if in a corrupt trance, stepping close to the swarm. The pack surrounded you, an expression of noiseless approval buzzing in the blistering air. With the slight gesture, a figure marched towards you, requesting with eloquence.

“Come with us if you want to know.”

With the invitation at hand, you considered the dilemma, then stepped beside the hound and tailed them into the forest. The others traced behind, and you all went as one unit into the weald. You don’t commemorate exactly why you craved to go with them, but you knew that the ruling would become a story of grandeur. So with the decision, your new life began. A life that would decide this history of the mighty Hellfire. Hail, hail, mighty Hellfire!