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

“Let us begin by asking a couple of questions.” 


 The soft voiced woman was nowhere to be seen. At least not yet. My eyes had not quite adjusted to the light around me. 


 “I think that’s the plan,” I thought. 


 If it was the plan, then this was, indeed, working. This was torture. Whoever had captured me clearly wanted something from me. Whoever this person was clearly also didn’t have a problem with hurting me. Beating me. Hounding me. Watching me suffer. 


 Just like the rest of the hateful beings on this dust ball called Earth, they didn’t care as long as they got what they wanted. 


 The silence was loud and I was cold. I tried to moved but my movement had been restrained yet again. This time, however, I was strained with all of limbs spread out evenly; forcing me into the shape of a star. 


 My restraints were crisp cold and were diamond hard. I wasn’t going to be able to strong will my way out of them. I was too weak. I could barely move my head. 


 “State your name.” A more commanding voice surfaced in the white depth that surrounded me. Silence followed. 


 I looked onward into the blinding white. Tears began to stream down my face as I squinted; trying to get a better grip on my surroundings. 


 Suddenly, the faint buzz from before returned. I braced myself for the oncoming heat; however, it didn’t intensify. 


“I will ask again,” the commanding voice continued, “state your name.” 


 Another silence filled the depth. I still couldn’t make out anything around me. Nor, could I tell where the voices were coming from. I was, yet again, still too weak. 


 “I don’t answer to cowards who choose to attack me without being seen. Hiding. Like worms,” I stated, “I have nothing to say to you.” 


 Another brief silence filled the room. Suddenly, the excruciating heat penetrated my frame once more. My jaw locked as the heat turned to into its horrendous sting. It was as if my body was getting stabbed by a million miniature knives. 


 It stopped yet again. The ringing still in my ears. Dark spots popped on my vision as I stared down exhausted into the white. I was clearly out of breath. 


 “Failure to comply WILL result in punishing countermeasures. I suggest you do as your told and answer the questions provided,” the voice command. 


 A small chuckle escape my body. It was small at first, but then the chuckle grew louder and louder. At some point it had become a full on laugh. It was hearty. It was gleeful. It was…. Sinister sort of. 


 I let out a deep cough. I was still out of breath. 


“I never was one to follow orders,” I chuckled. 


 A long deafening silence rang loud. It was suffocating. 


 The buzz was heightening. The heat returning. But I was ready. I don’t have to take orders from anyone. Especially, not cowards.


Tell But Don’t Show (The Count)