The Wordsmiths Book 2021

“No one can be happy with evil clouding their life. I want to free them,” Khalida paused. “And if that means killing wicked men, so be it.” A stabbing pain arose. She turned to find vermillion ichor trickling down her arm. Khalida gasped. He snickered and raised his eyebrows. “You’re well aware that path directs you to hell.” She held her breath. Impassiveness solved everything. “Yes, your point is?” He sneered. “Not very friendly.” “Are we done yet?” she asked hurriedly. “I suppose so. But before you leave, you should know this,” Lucifer inspected his surroundings and whispered as if the trees were listening. “Heaven isn’t all it seems. There are demons around every corner.” She scoffed, “You say that as if you aren’t the Devil himself.” “Just remember to watch your back. You’re not done ridding sinners just yet.” A door appeared before her. She stepped through it and saw paradise shone gleamingly down on a lotus pond, and the ripples in the water glistened as they ricocheted outwards towards the edge. And beneath that lotus pond, lay hell. Where sinners scarcely grasped onto their minds while floundering in white-hot agony. Their visceral screams, muffled by the barrier that was the lotus pond and further masked by the sweet chirps songbirds sung. Mist veiled the pond, obscuring its contents from the blissfully ignorant martyrs and paragons that passed by. Snow white lines weaved together, encompassing dew from the pouring rain and a few ravenous arachnids, formed intricate patterns that allured unknowing creatures, capturing them in a foul trap, where they awaited their imminent doom. He was right. The abode of the damned was disguised in beauty.

Hannah Zubair

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