There was a space of darkness and then Silas splashed into water. He was face down in a stream. He sputtered and gasped for breath as he looked around. It was night but he could clearly see the trees and the babbling brook rushing around him. A little stone bridge crossed the stream.
It had worked. He was in the exact same place he had been when he was taken to Hell. Fresh pain in his left arm reminded him of his mangled appendage. Free from the constraints of Hell, he was healing once again. It would be good as new in no time.
He pulled himself up out the water, climbed onto the bank, then lay there. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept, the adrenaline kept had him going. Being in Hell is a constant fight for survival when you are trying to hold onto your body.
He
