The decay was gradual and we were slow to recognize it. Then, one day, I had been talking with the Prison, and as I left the room I heard it laugh. A low, mocking chuckle.
The sound turned me cold. I stood in the corridor and the thought came to me of an ancient image I had once seen in a fragmented manuscript, of the enormous mouth of Hell devouring sinners.
It was then I knew we had created a demon that would destroy us.
View User's Journal
Stories from my notebook to you
This journal will have stories im writing and sometimes i will jump for one story to another. I hope to be a writter one day and have my work published for all to read. The stories will be mostly fantisy and some of the characters are based off peopl
 |
