Accepting Fate

My body floated down the prison halls. My uniform was as smooth as my hair was ruff. The air in my lungs like fire, and the chains latched to my wrist like ice.

Flowing down to my library of thought, I locked myself in and refused to come out. Every tug from the guard pulled a new memory from the shelves. My mother’s dying wish, my father’s final farewell, my wife’s departing embrace, and my child's last goodbye.

I drifted into the room, the last room I would ever see. Its smell was of rot, and its essence of the grave. The chains were loosed, I was soon to be released.

Strapped to the slab, the gates below opened wide, ready to receive my soul. Thin and twisty, the tubes were forcefully and agonizingly embedded into my veins. The poison raced down the clear plastic tubes, eager to annihilate my defenses. My blood desperately fought against its foe, however the toxin was too vicious, and they were defeated and destroyed.

My eyes glazed over, my spirit began to detach from the flesh. The machines wired, the demons cheered, my grip on reality began to disappear.

Infiltrated, my heart began to slow, my mind began to cloud, my spirit finished it’s departure. My soul slipped downwards, falling through the fire, falling past the devils, falling into damnation and willingly, painfully, sorrowfully, accepting my fate.