Where do the dead belong in the world of the living if the living are already supposed to be dead? The year is 3137 A.D. Near peace has been established between the human and demons for nearly a millennium. However, that peace is deeply disturbed when the dead come back to the world of the living to judge those deemed sinful. In return, opening old wounds the world had chosen to forget.

Mystic Dark

 A groan of aching pain escaped my mouth. My body burned with soaring hot pains as I shifted my head slightly. 


Attempting to open my eyes, I was immediately blinded by a scorching bright white. I closed my eyes shut as streams of bloody tears rolled down my face. 


 Smooth elevator jazz could be heard as I struggled to come to my sense. It was calming, yet very discombobulating. A loud ringing screamed from my ears, causing an immense headache. I was dazed and confused. Unsure of my surroundings and how I got here. 


 I tried to move my arms, yet something was holding them down. I flexed my hands. They were numb. Cold. Frigid. I try to move my legs; however, they wouldn’t budge either. 


 I groaned in frustration. I open my eyes slightly once more; fighting the light and the bloody tears along with it. I couldn’t find anything in the room other than the blind bright white, so I looked instead at myself. 


I look at my feet and see that I’m strapped down in metal cuffs onto strange table. 


 “No,” I thought,” it’s much more than that.” 


As my eyes began to adjust, so did the feeling in my body. I could feel a slight humming vibration come from underneath the table. It was soft and relaxing. Yet..... 


 “Something isn’t right here,” I continued to ponder. 


 I look past my feet and see a circular surface. Struggling, I look above me. 


 I look towards the blinding light, yet again. This time, I examined the perimeter more carefully. The light seemed to be pouring from some sort of rectangular window frame. I definitely was inside some containment capsule. Something to hold me captive. 


 “Who dare capture me and have me restrained in such a manner?” I question to myself. 


 My thought process was cut short when a large shadowy silhouette beamed over me; clouded by the light in the foreground. 


 The voice of a tall woman could be heard speaking in a strange dialect unknown to me. It was strange and deeply confusing. The words seemed to be enchanted because the more I listened the more my head hurt. 


 “Magesss,” I hissed, “Where am I?” 


 I was ignored. The woman seemed to be talking to someone else in the room. After about 5 minutes of their conversation; however, my brain was fried. I could no longer think for myself. 


 I tried to fight it, but it was useless. My body was already too weak. Now, my mind was compromised. I watched as the light grew brighter and my vision grew hazy. I was once again knocked into a world of slumber. 


The cycle continues. I had to figure out away to break free.


Discombobulated (The Count)