The leader approached me. Armed with indescribable weapons which were most certainly unethical they showed me my family. They were not my family. Although they physically resembled my family, inside they were corrupted. The leader tortured them. They were trying to create their own army of heartless demons.
My family attacked me. Swinging and shooting their weapons at me, I fell to the floor despite my attempts to find them and save them.
As I fought back trying to defend myself, I yelled at them telling them my and their names. I was their child and their sibling. They were relatives of mine. Mother, father, brother, sister. My voice was not understood by them. They failed to recognize my attempts at empathy. Despite them continuing to attack, I still told them who I was, who they are, and how I grew.
In their eyes, I could see the reflections of memories. I saw my birth, my first words, my first steps, straight As, vacations, holidays, happiness. Static was mixed in too. Clearly, they were confused as to how they somehow knew the figure whom they were attacking. Eventually, I saw blood draw from them mixed with burn marks from the recoil of destroyed weapons. They fell into my arms. I held them as they died. I killed my own family.
The figure laughed at me. They started to attack me as well. It seemed that even though they didn't have their own army to abuse, I would be the perfect replacement. They moved fast. Almost too fast for me to defend myself. A myriad of weapons flew towards me. Even though I was able to get close enough to attack, they brushed off all of my attacks as they laughed. They were practically immortal. I could not kill them. Even though I aimed for many of their vital organs, no matter how big the wounds, they could not die.
They eventually grew tired of fighting me. Heading to their car, they drove away. They sped towards my family's corpses in an attempt to run them over as a way to further rub in the fact that I killed them. As they sped, they lost control of the steering wheel and crashed into a wall. I ran towards the car. Shards of glass struck their eyes, forehead, chest, and stomach. There was even a shard of glass pierced through their heart. They were not crying. They laughed maniacally as blood spilled from their body and they coughed up more blood. They refused to accept that they were dying. In the end, they were the one who ended up killing them. Eventually, their eyes closed, their laughter and breathing stopped, and they slouched over. Even though they were finally dead, I did not feel any satisfaction over their death.
I passed out. Seeing the deaths add up in front of me, not to mention how many were caused by my own hands, causes me to die mentally. Opening my eyes, I saw a sea of red. The structures around me warped wildly as the heat continued to blaze. All I heard were roars, screams, and the commands of some unseen force. I was in Hell.
All I could feel was pain. I screamed as I felt my life draining. I could not die. Whoever was in charge would not grant me death. I would feel pain for as long as they see fit.
A robotic figure walked towards me. As it walked, it heated into a golden colour. When it finally reached me, it did not attack. An angel left its body, like a molting cicada. Giant squares filled my sight as I saw myself. As they flipped sides they changed. One side was me. One side was my naked, nailed to a cross, crying. One was me red, horned, eyeless, soulless, and screaming. The pictures on the squares kept changing rapidly as the heat increased and the noises became louder.
Brief flashes of people and animals dying crossed my mind. I had never seen any of them before, and yet here I was viewing their rotting corpses every few seconds. This did not stop the preexisting squares, however. After what seemed like a century, I saw a figure rising in front of my eyes. It was Satan. He roared and everything stopped. That's when I knew he had enough. I died at that moment. There was no Heaven, no Hell, no Purgatory. I was alone.