The Writers' Circle

this is my story:

I looked at my hands, then back at the guard, staring at the dagger I had just plunged into his heart.  The floor was red, red with blood.  I felt nauseous, but this wasn't the first guard I had seen slumped on the floor.  I knew from their dying breaths that there was a terrible demon that lurked the dark corridors below the dungeons.  They said that it could come up at night, and gorge on human blood while they were sleeping.

I sat there, wondering what to do until I heard footsteps coming down the hall.  I decided to run.  I took the keys from the guard and ran down the hall into the underworld.  I had nearly made it, but I suddenly heard a clear ringing voice that bellowed down the hall.  It was Brother Thomas.  He was using the power of God to bind me to his will.  I slammed the door shut, but not before I heard Brother Thomas shout ".and I bind by the love of God this vandal!"   I ran, further and deeper into the complex structure that was the underworld. I had no clue where I was going, but I ran out of fear, for I had glimpsed the golden light of God, leak out of Brother Thomas's mouth, trying to grasp me to its will.

It was dark; too dark I thought.  I was on the lower floors of the underworld.  I was scared.  All I could think about was the terrible beast that was meant to lurk down there, and then, as if by magic, I heard a tremendous roar.  I ran, fled, and scurried away like a gazelle before a leopard.  I had escaped from one tremendous danger straight into the face of an even bigger one.  I kept on running, but I kept on finding that the sound was getting louder!  I had run into a trap, a chasm.  The beast was straight behind me!  I whipped around, and saw that behind me was no monster, it was a golden light, laced with a tint of heaven.  It was God.  The light transformed into a tall lean man with golden wings and a white toga.  He was surrounded by a fast flowing golden light.

I stared up into the mans face, my eyes reflecting my deepest hatred.  The man held out his hand, welcoming me into his embrace.  I spat on it, putting the mark of my hatred on his hand.  His face contorted in anger, it changed into a demonic head with the horns of a bull.  The man was screaming, trying to wrestle the demon out of his skin.  I screamed and jumped straight into the chasm, only to find that I was floating down, straight into a gleaming light, the brightest light possible.  Knowing what must be done, I let myself be embraced by God.  I let myself be embraced, embraced by the freedom of death.