I woke to a world that seemed ordinary. People laughed, argued, went about their mundane sins. The sun rose, spilling gold across the rooftops. Birds sang, unaware. The earth turned, steady and calm. And then, a sound tore through it all.
A trumpet. Shrill, unyielding, slicing through the morning air. It was not music. Not a cry. It was judgment itself, prying open the sky like a knife through paper. My chest tightened, my heart skipped, and the hairs on my neck rose as the sound filled every corner of the world and my mind.
From the clouds descended a figure of light, impossible to name. Neither angel nor demon, it hovered above like a promise of pain. Blinding and hollow, its presence pressed into my chest, vibrating into my thoughts: "Your mortal freedom is over. Now, every soul must pay for its sins."
And then… everything changed.
The ground convulsed. Demons—grotesque, colossal, unthinkable burst from the soil, nightmares made flesh. One moment, life had been ordinary. The next, the world burned in ash, smoke, and blood.
Blades caught the light, slick and red. Towering demons stalked the ruins, their movements purposeful yet alien. Faceless, eyeless, earless—they tore through buildings, through humans, through anything that dared breathe. Four-armed monstrosities wandered without aim, swinging limbs that should not exist, ripping apart walls and hope alike. Screams rose, endless and raw, a chorus of despair scraping against my sanity. The acrid stench of burning flesh and charred wood choked my lungs. Dust and ash stung my eyes and throat, leaving me coughing, gagging, yet unable to look away.
A father clutched his child, running blindly, shouting, "God, help us!" But God had already turned away. Beneath their feet, the ground ruptured, revealing a gaping path to hell itself. Burning bodies clawed at the edges, some rising for one last scream before falling back into the abyss. Chaos reigned, merciless, infinite, and unchallenged.
Then… time itself seemed to waver. The world exhaled, slow and agonized. Everything blurred. Faces, memories, fears, cries of countless people... All merged into a shifting, writhing haze. The air tasted metallic. The sky trembled. Slowly, unbearably slowly, the vision hardened.
The sunlight faded. The sky turned molten, blood-red, as if the world itself had been skinned alive. Demons advanced, grins widening beyond reason, eyes hungry with impossible anticipation. The air thickened, pressing down, suffocating, as the vision devoured everything in its path. Amid the devastation, a faint flicker of movement caught my eye. Someone—or—something had survived. For now.
I wanted to run. I wanted to scream. I wanted to close my eyes and forget. But even as terror coiled around me, I could not move. Could not blink. Could not breathe fast enough to escape the horror pressing down from all sides.
Then darkness swallowed all. No screams. No movement. No light.
Only silence...
Darkness. Absolute, suffocating darkness. I had wanted, before, to close my eyes and forget but now, I was trapped within it, a prisoner of nothingness.
What was happening around me? What would happen to me? Questions spun wildly, unbidden, relentless. Their echoes clawed at my mind—the screams of a thousand lost voices, cries of countless souls I had glimpsed in that infernal hell, still ringing in my memory.
And then, a voice. Low, resonant, impossible, like something that should not exist. Neither human nor entirely beast, it rolled through my mind, everywhere and nowhere at once: "Good… good. You must think. Think… think deeply." I swallowed, but my mouth was dry. My thoughts tangled in the sound.
"Consider… who you are… where you walk… where you are. Who speaks to you?"
I tried to respond. "Who am I talking to? And… you?"
There was no pause. No mercy.
"Think of yourself. Of your name. Of what you have seen… what you have witnessed."
It was not a voice listening—it was thought itself, probing, twisting, tearing at the edges of my consciousness. My own mind felt alien.
Thought? My thoughts…? Who am I supposed to be?
"Yessss… who are you? The lost boy… or the one who asks the questions?"
Questions. Am I asking questions? Where… where am I?
A sharp, searing pain erupted in my skull, hammering as though iron nails were driven deep into my brain. I screamed inside, but no sound emerged. Panic clawed at me. And then, a second voice... Calmer, clearer, soft, yet impossible to ignore—spoke: "You're in pain… I know. This isn't good. You need to wake up."
My head throbbed. Thoughts spun in chaotic spirals, fragmented, incomprehensible. I wanted to resist, to hide, to sink back into the darkness but the voice persisted.
"Wake. From the emptiness. From the darkness. From the dream… open your eyes." It repeated, over and over, like the tide of some relentless sea: Open your eyes. Open your eyes. Open your eyes.
I tried to scream again—silently but a thought answered me, sharp and commanding: Shut up!
And then, slowly, agonizingly, my eyelids lifted.