The first thing I saw was the pale, sterile, and distant light, and the soft white covering the room I was in.
What is this place?
Am I in jail?
No… it's not that. It's more like a hospital… or ₪̵̣̻̗̈̀̋̐͝=̶̡̢̦͚̺̼͓͎̑̾̉̀͆Ǝ̴͓͍̓۩̸̝͉̹̝͈̏̑͐̉̄͑₦̸̛͚̤̞̮͙̙̼̦͊͌̇̇̀f̷̡̢̭̭̙͈̟̌ḙ̵͓̣͍̩͂͒̑͆͐̓Ʀ̸̬̗͒̽̊̓̈́͜ ̵̦͋̓͊ .
I'm not really sure. To be honest, it could be anything. It's not like there's anything here to help me understand this place:
An empty room with no window, and a single iron door on one edge.
"Hello, is there anyone?"
"HELLOOO! Please!"
I should probably inspect the door… or at least find a way to get out of here.
"Don't beg for help when I come at you."
As I attempted to stand up from the cold floor, a horrifying realization struck me:
The hand I placed on the floor wasn't as I used to see it.
Panic surged through me. Out of fear, I fell to my knees, scrambling into a corner as if I could hide from the red stain I had created.
"What did you do to me?! Who are YOU?! WHAT IS THAT?! WHAT IS THAT BLOOD?!"
My hand was full of dirty yet beautiful scarlet-red blood, soaked deep into my skin…
I couldn't keep my eyes off my red hand, shaking uncontrollably.
The image burned into me.
Why couldn't I stop seeing it?
Why couldn't I escape?
"WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME?!"
"What is all this blood?!"
Everything I looked at was becoming another way of seeing this horror.
"Please, someone tell me!"
My sight began blurring, tears falling.
"Please… someone help me…"
I was terrified, but no one came for me. Not even a sound. Not even a thought.
And the corner I was in slowly became my one and only safe place in this bloody room.
"I will not let myself be broken by some shitty tricks. Do you understand? I won't let you break me!"
I rubbed my hand against the floor multiple times.
"See? You won't manipulate me, so I hope you have other plan for me…"
But the blood never stopped spreading in the room. My hand remained as full as before.
And the room kept becoming lonelier…
The hours passed, and yet the blood continued sticking to me. The nightmare was only starting.
After one hour, my whole arm was red. After a day, it was the turn of my face and brown hair.
And I was still stuck in my corner, incapable of moving, my eyes locked again on the stain on the floor.
"You had your fun. Let me out."
I tried moving out of this corner multiple times, but my legs refused to obey. Again and again, my mind kept me in this place. And yet… the nightmare continued.
After three full days, I started feeling hunger rising in my body. I couldn't distinguish what wasn't red on me anymore, yet my arm remained covered with that endless blood.
"Could you… bring me some clothes? And food? Please…"
"Please, anyone"
After a week, I had lost hope of seeing anyone. But it's only after the second week that I truly understood what that meant for me.
I only knew one thing in this world: endless pain. What had I done to deserve this? I don't know.
Maybe this world had nothing to give to someone like me.
Maybe I deserved this pain.
Maybe my fate was to die in the only place I had ever known.
You may say it's a pitiful way of seeing my life, an endless suffering experience. But it's true.
It is my reality…
After a month, I started hearing voices.
Maybe I was going insane.
Maybe the loneliness had finally taken me.
But I didn't have the strength nor the will to understand what was really happening.
After the fourth month being stuck there, I built my ultimate plan a final way out of here. A last hope…
After the fifth month, I decided to execute it:
"I will leave this place! I will leave this place! You won't stop me! I have a flawless plan!"
Am I really crazy?
What am I doing?
"It's not time for those kinds of thoughts. I will soon win this battle."
I ripped my red shirt, twisted the fabric into a rope.
Hours. Days.
Perfecting the knots.
I fed it through the gap between the lamp and the ceiling.
My hands shook as I tied the last loop.
"I did it, i finally made it, my ultimate way out"
I took off my red shirt and, by ripping, pressing, and knotting it, I created a rope.
It's not that complicated when you have time to figure out the best way.
"I hope you'll have no regrets."
"Let's get out of here."
I stepped off.
The rope bit into my neck, fire surging through my throat.
My chest convulsed. My body jerked.
And yet I smiled at the door.
"Bye."
I couldn't stop myself from shaking the urge to breathe, the pain from the rope tightening with time as time passed.
I felt everything.
But despite the blood coming out of my eyes despite the pain, I didn't die.
It was a slow agony that didn't stop. A slow agony that never stop
I suffered without interruption as my body waited for the rope to break under my own weight.
A flawless plan…
What a joke. What an illusion.
No one was going to help me not even death.
After the sixth month, the rope finally ripped apart, letting me breathe again. But the pain was still there.
And again, the nightmare had to continue.
After that failure, I stopped counting the days. All I knew was that dust became my blanket, and the voices my only friends. And that the pain around my neck became my reminder that i was alive.
And one day… my jail became bigger.
The voices that had followed my insanity started echoing in the room, becoming more than sound.
At first, I thought I was going past the point of insanity. But then the room began shaking. The walls vibrated, my vision blurred as time kept passing.
"I have been waiting for you, Death."
"Save me… this time, please…"
"I am begging you…"
But what I thought was another trick of my mind… blew my door to pieces.
Ten men armed with guns rushed in some tried to protect me, others kept me in their scope.
The sound of boots and shouting drowned my thoughts as some grabbed my hand to show it to the others.
Everything was becoming blurry in this chaos of movement and noise.
That day, even death refused to help me.
No one was there to help me.
I was alone in this nightmare that kept becoming more and more real…
But one hand a single one in this chaos was different.
It tried to protect me.
A hand that didn't judge me by the blood in the room.
A single hand seeing the broken soul behind my empty face:
"What's your name?"
His name was Samael.