Well of Torment

by James Fisher

The sun sets The blood delivered The earth will drown in a crimson river —Infant Annihilator, "Childchewer"

He lit a cigarette, savoring the rich smoke and gazing at the star-strewn heavens in contemplation.

He fell asleep beneath the heavens’ celestial glow.

Clint held no physical form, his view of the infernal realm like glancing through a window from high above.

Nude men and women hung from cruelly sharp stalagmites, their withered hands extended in a futile gesture for help that would not come. Cracked lips opened and closed, their hoarse cries no louder than the rustling of fallen autumnal leaves–lost in the din, drowned out by fresher suffering.

He wielded a beauty both great and terrible. Blonde hair finer than silk flowed down his chiseled form.

A vision of a town on Earth, set ablaze. The sky was sanguine, the sun now a serpent’s eye–twitching and ever watchful.

Rage splashed across the gunslinger like a magmatic burst.

the earth cracked open in spots–dessicated flesh begging the heavens for a rain that may never come.

“One down, five to go. The Well of Torment is nigh.”

It cried no more, its motions halted by death’s embrace.

The children of Christ would plead on bleeding knees for mercy and receive none.

Humanity’s toll would make God weep atop his shiny little throne. Earth would fall, and Heaven after.

He saw himself adorned in the dress of a king, a crown of thorns atop his head. The sheep bowed before him with their noses pressed to the dirt—

The Well of Torment was nigh.

The cadaver’s lower jaw hung loosely. Its one eye rocked side-to-side in jarring twitches. It halted before the church and turned to face the townsfolk.

“Abandon all hope, ye sheep of Christ’s flock. The Dragon of the Abyss arrives on the morrow. This world shall crumble beneath Hell’s might. Lucanos will take your children into his harem and pump them full of his wicked seed. You shall all—”

Blood flowed from his wrist to the inner crook of his elbow in sanguine sheets.

Though it could not speak, it called for souls.

“I don’t give two shits about wasting ammunition, men! Y’all see an ugly cunt from hell, you shoot that cocksucker until it’s good and dead! Do I make myself clear?!” Roy shouted. War cries greeted his orders.

Satan’s eye watched all from on high.

Satan’s eye watched them, keeping vigil for the death yet to come.

Lucanos and the Whore of Babylon stood outside the rift-gate. A red silk dress draped down her ample body, shoulder-length black curls framing a moon-shaped face with blue eyes and full lips. Her gaze was hollow, for no soul dwelled within. Though time was pressing, the sight of her sent a stirring through his loins. “I’ve need of your mouth, slut.” “I exist to serve, on knees or back, my prince.”

An angel towered over them, its skin alight with a supernatural radiance. The heavenly soldier wore gilded armor, long auburn hair framing a face too perfect to be human. Massive white wings sat upon its shoulders, its eyes like infinitely deep sapphires set into a marble sculpture.

“Gaze upon me, and know that I am Gabriel—Archangel of the High Heavens, and the right hand of God. On this day, I grant you both a boon: my blood. May it aid you in your days to come.”

“You will ponder why I’ve given my blood to you. It is a natural response for those of your ilk. I will say only this: a time may come where the innocent reach out to you for aid. Heed that call.”

Hidden in the storm, a lone bolt of lightning shot upward in the distance.

Her cries and pleas were little more than the buzzing of a gnat to his ears as violence drew perilously near.

tides of a dying sea set to drown the world in its own blood.

Golden hair framed a fair face with a chiseled jawline, black silk making up the entirety of the arch daemon’s garb. He’d have resembled a king of olden times, aside from the serpent’s eyes cast in his direction. Those eyes challenged him, sharp teeth glistening in slobber from his murderous grin. With one glance, he knew those teeth were meant to devour flesh.

“Bearer of my blood, I bring news. By stepping foot into mankind’s realm, Lucanos has breached a pact forged long ago between heaven and hell. Considering this transgression, our Lord has bid me to impart wisdom to you. There is a way to not only close the rift-gate, but vanquish Satan’s son from existence forevermore.”

Red flesh sloughed and ripped under their weight, blood and excrement oozing out as they inched closer toward the construct which would consume them.

them. “I love you,” he said. “I love you, too.” They held one another’s free hand, then touched the well. Their lips met—a kiss at the end of the world. Together, they melted, their last embrace eternal.

Arrows impaled skulls, red eyes blinded, forevermore.

Death’s color seemed not so harsh as he grew older. All good came with bad.

A man can change.