Darkness shifted and swirled, spiraled and pulsed. The nightmares of thousands and the terrors of millions floated aimlessly, loosely, dangerously. Flashes of horrors, abominations… sins flashed deep in the depths. Not a hint of good or a dusting of love could be found within the mass.
Wrath, Fury, Revenge, Greed, Terror here these things thrived. They found solid ground and they sprouted roots and dug in their hold, tenacious, unbreakable. Their roots groped and dug spreading deeper and farther until they could never be unearthed.
What originally was, was no more. Corrupted, mutilated, murdered until nothing that could fight, that could uproot the evil could find a handhold in the bulk of death.
Light glinted off medal as an object was lifted from its resting place and brought to where the light that so conflicted with it could flash off its cold lifeless body.
Hands the white of death gripped it in a loose emotionless grip “Pain can be ended.” The voice of death danced through the room, whispering, seducing. The cold metal lightly kissed the warm center of a temple. “Pain can be halted.”
Slowly, warmth seeped into the darkness, pushed at the fear, ripped at the rage, halted the pain. “Pain cannot be ended,” A voice of light whispered, soothingly. “But it can be defeated.” A hand the color of the rising sun that radiated heat equal to its intensity rested lightly on the gun, warming the once ice cold metal.
Eyes the black of a nightmare haltingly looked up into the eyes the blue of the sky after a storm. “I have had a hard life.” The man whispered. The women looked down into his eyes, eyes that had never seen warmth, eyes that had never experienced the love of another. “I know,” She whispered. “And you have lived through it and you and keep on living it. Life is worth living and pain is not the only emtion your allowed to feel inside.”
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