The Hellish Graveyard

Living across the street, smelling the decay, hearing the squeamish cries of the unrepentant being sent down to purgatory; I toss and turn desperately trying to ignore it. I’m trying to ignore it, but it is very hard. The night gets darker and the moon sinks into the dark inner pit of hell as it begins to open and a brown, noxious fog starts to creep along the ground, like thin creepy fingers eager to snatch away the souls of the vulnerable, the weak of spirit and the insane; the souls of the hopeless.
I awaken with a start with the terrible foreknowledge of my impending doom. I feel that the day of my death is at hand. I sit up in bed and turn to the window and watch; wide-eyed; as the dirty brown fog fills the graveyard and slyly slides across the street towards my house.
Fear closes my throat and I quickly hop out of bed and race out of my bedroom; but I’m afraid to go outside because the fog is onto my lawn and moving rapidly to my house. I run into the kitchen and grab my bible because that is what I hope will help me. The fog is now eagerly pressing against the glass. I hear the evil scratching to let it in; sinisterly trying to convince me to let it enter. I desperately search for a way out of this mess. How can I escape when it’s surrounding my house? It is cackling with its wickedness; with its triumphant knowledge of ending my existence. I have no where to run, no where to hide. Resigned to my fate, I drop to my knees and desperately try to give my soul over to God as I await my tragic; yet certain death.
Eerie faces of those who have lost their way clutter around my windows as if they are welcoming me to join their ranks. The ranks of the tormented, the ranks of the damned. They smile their smug, grotesque smiles; but I ignore them as the fog seeps through the cracks of my front door and hungrily searches for me. It travels upstairs and down to the basement until it finally finds me in the kitchen. Snarling with vicious delight, the fog of Belthazor; head minion of Satan himself; snakes itself around my throat and seeps into my eyes and mouth to feverishly attack my body, destroy my spirit and claim my soul for the Morning star. But it howls in fury and vengeance as my body collapses to the floor. It has been thwarted, because God has answered my call.

The Hellish Graveyard

TalentedOne

Atlanta, United States

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