Three Hoodies Save the World

Constant moaning and whinging about everything

Book Of Pain – almost done

Imagine committing a crime so heinous that your punishment was immortality.

Not so awful if that was your dream. But what if you were told that immortality would be spent without eating, or a single moment’s sleep? Still not unbearably harsh until the final part of the curse is finally revealed. Your sleepless, eternal life will also be spent in ceaseless, unspeakable agony. And as a final barb, you will never gain the sanctuary of insanity. Every day, every moment of this endless torture will be spent in the clear knowledge of what will happen in the next, and the next.

Tom Fletcher must now spend this perpetual hell knowing that nothing, no damage, however severe will end his miserable existence.
Yet, just to compound the agony, he must endure all this with the knowledge, the terrible knowledge; that he may give away the curse in an instant. One moment and it will be gone; he can die and it will all be over.

Would a man who has suffered hundreds of years agony, centuries of suffering change into such a monster that he will choose the awful alternative offered to him?

Tom’s legs quivered as his splintered bones burst free of his flesh. His conscious mind tried to shut down, to distance himself from the the absolute exquisite torment. This did not help for amid this hell visited upon him the silently screaming but rational portion of his brain remained and now, finally he understood the meaning of the man’s words. It was an agony that was to last until the end of time; an eternity of demons rending his flesh. Yet for one moment, he prayed that he was dreaming, that it was not to be or, that it was over but that was not the reason for the pain lessened only that he might hear the final, scornful laughter of the Abbot. That one moment was enough to hear the words before the waves of hell thundered back over him, through him.

‘And even if you believe it to be as bad as it may become, it will simply become worse.’

And with the man’s final laugh the torture increased tenfold. His face burst into flames, his genitals and every organ, wrenched from his body. In that moment he was cast into his own personal hell, but not death for he knew that was a blessing he would never receive. He screeched one final time before tumbling down the long flight of granite steps into the cellar, his skull shattered yet immediately intact upon his crashing, shuddering halt at the bottom.
Pain, the pain.

The Book of Pain. Due very soon.

Hard to believe but this is a love story.


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