TWENTY-EIGHT
A VERY PRIVATE HELL
Jack Reid was in Hell, and the Hell in which he found himself held all the ingredients necessary to torment his mind and his soul beyond the capacity for which the human mind was designed. He lay, unsure whether he was alive or dead, his head filled with visions so terrifying, so unworldly that his entire body felt paralyzed with fear.
Twisted amorphous figures, female and yet not female with faces that constantly shifted shape so that they were never more than a blur, floated across his line of sight. Their mouths, toothless yet menacing, larger in proportion to their overall size than they should have been, gaped to reveal blood soaked interiors, and the crimson flow of blood suddenly began to well up from deep within their almost transparent, shapeles
