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The Fallen Soul

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The smell was vibrant in the air, cutting through the darkness inch by inch. It filled my nostrils and crept into the darkness inside. I didn't much care for it because it had gotten familiar. Ash. The smell of death is only the beggining and part of something much worse that hides below. I once visited the place people only dare to whisper, the gateway which links the mortal and ethereal realms. The seams of life so to speak. It's my job to make sure the balance is never tipped in the favour of one, it's my job to watch the souls of the guilty fall to where most dread. Sadists, murderers, rapists they all have one thing in common; they craved more from life. As I stare down at the humans which run the surface, maybe going below isn't such a bad thing.
Hell. Some people believe in it and others care only in dreaming of the delights of Heaven. I can boldly claim that it is far from delightful, for I used to reside there myself until I became lost. I was framed for allowing a greater demon into the mortal world and because of that I was stripped of my duties and privilages. As I fell I landed in Deiforte, the middle land where I am now. I see the good go to Heaven and the bad go to Hell, it's that simple. The cries of pain as flesh is torn and burnt in a torrent of flames and blades. Only the naive believe in true peace after death. Crimson tears roll down lifeless bodies which become trapped, wept by fallen Angels. They fall into the dark void but get caught on their descent, and the Angels collect the bodies to be burnt. You can tell someones sin from the smell of their ash. A potent odour is common with the lowest of low; those who sell drugs to children, or child killers. Fresh ash fills the air in the mornings, a dense cloud of dark sins and violence. Laughter of the damned echoes down the path to Hell and twists its way into your mind. I've seen many people go mad from these sounds, staring coldly at nothing with fear in their eyes as pronounced as their hatred for this place.
I drift off and hit the ground, moonlight shimmering in the fresh puddles on the ground. I am not in Deiforte anymore, no I'm in a much worse place. I'm back in the mortal realm. The stench of urine and steel rises into an inhospitable air full of corruption and deceit. I am Vorai and this is my story.
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GlacierK's avatar
The words, the picture, they both speak to me. I really like them both. They go perfectly together.