Sheol again, no signs of Gabriel.
Deep valley amongst the sheer cliff face. I could see the silhouettes of long roaming spirits. Seemingly content to wander, least these don’t scream like those down deeper.
Maybe that’s why I like it there. It’s quiet, and not much is trying to kill you.
I remember deeper into the pit, I remember the abominations to life, the sucking soulless who feed off the light like a sentient parasite.
Scared it’s all real, scared it isn’t.
Bending lights and colors streaking across the sky like a living painting. Greens and pinks.
Pillars of obsidian jutting past the cloud line, higher than I can see. They look unnatural and out of place for the environment. Sparks jumping in excitement, embers floating without a care.
Serpentine paths to a beach north. The stones seem to float on the surf, near deafening clacking of stone against stone and waves crashing.
Wish I had my wings. They ache this morning.
Least I didn’t die. Doesn’t matter though, I just wake up here. Back in this reality I only tentatively think is real.
Venting done I think. Thank you for reading.
