"Let's go home, Daddy... this time without the lies," Conner whispered, his breath warm against Marcus’s ear just before death claimed him.
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An overwhelming peace settled over Marcus, comforting him like a blanket as he drifted into death’s embrace. He felt himself being lifted, his body suspended in the air. When he opened his eyes, he saw the river from his childhood, the one where his father had taught him how to fish. The water shimmered beneath him, familiar and calm. Then, without warning, the force holding him aloft released. Marcus plummeted toward the river. He curled into himself, bracing for the impact.
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But the water never came.
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Instead, the instant he breached the surface, he was consumed by fire. Unimaginable heat seared through him. The flames forced their way into his nose, down his throat, burning everything inside and out. Every inch of him screamed with pain. But worst of all, his body refused to die. His flesh regenerated only to be scorched again, endlessly. His eyes melted in their sockets, only for new ones to form.. just in time to burn once more. There was no relief, no reprieve. Only torment. Then, Marcus began to move, dragged through the inferno. Even as he passed through waves of flame, the fire clung to him, refusing to let go. His agony remained constant. But just as suddenly as it had begun, the movement stopped. He was floating again, drifting upward, away from the burning.
His eyes regenerated once more, allowing him to see where he was.
Beneath him stretched an enormous lake of swirling fire. Along its shore, shapes moved.. people, trudging endlessly, their bodies broken, their mouths open in soundless wails. Towering, inhuman figures stalked among them, lashing them with cruel whips, demons, Marcus realized. This was no vision. This was real.
He came to a halt, his body still steaming, his skin charred and raw.
Standing before him was a male figure with ash-colored skin and great black feathered wings. His presence radiated power and judgment.
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"Marcus Obsidian," the being intoned in a voice that echoed. "You are in Hell."
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The being stepped forward, eyes glowing like dying embers.
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"But your work far from over."
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