The Prey

Hell wasn’t fire and brimstone. It was this.

That was the only answer my fractured mind could grasp. Hell—raw, searing, and boundless. The kind of darkness that pressed against your ribs, suffocating, until you forgot what it was like to breathe. Until everything hurt, yet you couldn’t feel the pain. The kind you wanna escape yet couldn’t.

Voices. Somewhere far. Distant. But I couldn’t hold onto them. They came and went, tangled whispers slipping through my fingers.

The acrid stench of smoke lingered in my nostrils, even though I knew it wasn’t there. Was it real? Or was my mind playing tricks again?

“Open your damn eyes,” someone...