Take My Hand...
Undisclosed Location – Upstate, New York
You couldn’t imagine the smell of burning brimstone. It was the epitome of overpowering. The skies moved a lot faster here. They were jet black, and wore bright clouds of fire like scars. Screams of millions upon millions of lost souls could be heard for as far as reality stretched. Souls begging to be erased. They were lost for all of time, and time was something of pure irrelevance here. It simply didn’t exist. The temperature was never the same. It would be unfathomably cold one moment, and the next, you would feel the sun itself scorching the ground you stood on. The air seemed to burn and suffocate the land. Everything suffered. It decayed. The realm itself seemed to breathe and expel death. It was miserable. This was Limbo, and it was created in the image of Death himself.
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I stood staring at the large frame, examining each notch on its carved, metal skeleton. There was no picture. No mirror. Just the frame by itself. The smell of brimstone emanated from the frame. It was wildly overpowering, as I remembered it to be. I took another sip of my coffee. The mixture of brewed coffee and brimstone was a warm, welcoming and familiar scent. The late fall air flowed through the partially cracked balcony door and touched my exposed torso with a cool kiss. The smell lingered throughout the hallways and corridors of the mansion. The secluded, wooded and dense surrounding woods kept the mansion out of the way of most city goers and only locals knew of this location. It kept the sounds of city life at bay. No sirens. No college kids. Nothing. Just silence and quiet. The Mansion sat on a compound, along with a few other buildings sprawled across acres. Seclusion was key. The metal frame was huge. It was the size of an entire wall and looked as if it were to be fitted with a masterpiece by a famous painter. But it wasn’t meant for art. It was for much, much more. I stepped towards the frame and touched the black metallic frame, that seemed to interact with my touch. It began to glow a fiery orange wherever I touched it. A strong hum could be heard gently, seemingly as if something was calling me. That smell of brimstone got a little stronger. I couldn’t help but smile at what was to come.
“She waits in the woods”, called out a voice from the shadows behind me. A familiar voice. One that I knew all to well. It was low and raspy, and sounded as if multiple people were talking all at once. I took another sip of the somewhat cold coffee. “She calls them to her and they obey every word”. The voice was coming from a Darkling. They would wait in shadows, spy and report to me any and all knowledge. They were like my personal army. This news didn’t excite me until its next line – “She knows about The Bleed”. I lowered my coffee and slowly turned. The being slowly approached as well. Its dark presence absorbing all light sources near. Its bright, white eye pierced through the shadows. The being slowly began to form. It walked on its hind legs and had a long, slender torso. Its front paws were enormous and had claws to match its demonic appearance. Long, pointed ears were now visible as well as a tail. It bowed at my feet. “How would you like to proceed, master?”, it asked softly. I stood for a moment, weighing my options. It seemed like a perfect opportunity to gather a pretty reliable source of information. She was a woman, a regular human woman who recognized the existence of The Bleed. That was next to impossible, if not impossible. The Bleed was causing a rise on occult activities on a global scale, but within the shadows of this realm. I lifted the coffee and spun its partially empty porcelain shell. It began to fill back up and heat itself to a steaming temperature. I blew some of the steam from it before I took a sip. Perfect. I began walking to the Darkling. It bowed even lower. “Burn her books. Her home. Her life. I want no trace of her”. I then knelt to match eye’s with the demonic being. “And after you do so, you bring her to me. Directly”. The bright white eye’s seemed to find joy in my words. “Yes, Master”, the many voices agreed before the being turned and crept back into the shadows of the dark room. I stood, smelling that familiar smell of Brimstone and Coffee. I took another sip of my coffee. You couldn’t imagine the smell of burning brimstone. It was the epitome of overpowering.