I can’t move or breathe and it’s dark. Suddenly lightning shreds through the sky like a spear thrown by a deity, piercing the sludge and shattering the earth underneath, vibrating against my eardrums. Rain starts to ruthlessly plummet from the heavens like kamikaze bombers splattering against the world, soaking the soil and beating against the unseen roof of my living nightmare. Drenched mud starts to leak through the seams of my coffin, flooding into my inescapable tomb.

I start to panic. Scraping my hands against the edges of the coffin, trying to escape until my fingers were bloodied and my nails mutilated, as the endless sludge oozed into the confinements of my newfound prison. I start to shriek for help but the screams could not be heard over the deafening strikes of thunder trying to impale the earth and the rain constantly bombarding the land. I scream, shriek and yell until each breath felt like shards of glass were being thrust down my throat and each shout drew blood making me cough it out, splattering it onto the walls like some grotesque piece of art painted by the devil.

Tears start to forge a way down my face mixing into the concoction of mud, sludge, and water, which is crawling up to my chest, pressing against the membrane of my skin. Weeping uncontrollably, tears slide down the already forged path down my face, but no noise escapes my hoarse and barren throat. I give up. My body goes limp. But the tears still fall down my face and crash in the instrument of my slowly advancing demise.

NO! This isn’t me. This is just a poor representation of the likeness that is I. I am in the warm loving embrace of Father Paul nice and safe. Something deep within me stirs and I start to laugh at the “demise” starts to rise and I laugh harder.

"This sure is scary Father Paul but you know if you are going to implant visions and ideas in peoples head you should use words that the person understands you dumb fuck.” not understanding the swear that Father Paul used earlier I throw it back in his face.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Next is emptiness, as Father Paul appears the hint of madness now fully embedded in his eyes and spreading to the rest of his face. Lifting his hand towards me he does not say a word and points. Frozen in place I am left standing as I face the insanity ridden Father Paul, my body starts to burn from the inside out and my skin starts to peel off of my body while worms and maggots start to burrow into my exposed flesh.

Father Paul starts to laugh hysterically while remaining eye contact. Father Paul’s laughter starts to envelop my mind and soon all that was left of me is horrible endless pain followed by feverish laughter.

Why is this happening? Why didn’t I listen to Father Paul?

“Oh shut the fuck up Paul” I scream in defiance, the pain starts to increase and I am shown horrors and monsters as they tear people apart limb from limb removing their heads and playing with their corpses.

Then Paul slips up and memories from his past start to show. While it is difficult to make sense of with the agony and laughter echoing in my head I learn that Paul was an interrogator form the churches crusades to force people to pray to their gods. I learn that the churches have mind spells that make praying addictive and people into fanatics while they are in the church. This makes people keep coming back to the church and makes them completely loyal to the church and their gods. I learn how the priests have an amulet that stops the effects of the spell for the wearer as well as let them control the worshipers to a certain extent.

I see images of an unknown world without magic as random pieces of knowledge start to flood my mind. I also learn a large variety of colorful vocabulary.

Then I see the broken bodies that Paul leaves in his wake when he is done raping the little children or torturing his 'playthings'. Then I see how he is violating my body as he tortures my mind. The stirring sensation inside me increases and anger begins to fill me. THAT IS MY BODY YOU SON OF A BITCH, NO ONE CONTROLS MY BODY BUT ME! Rage fills me as the strange sensation envelops my whole body. The mental world shatters as I struggle against the belt around my arms.

Blinded by rage I bite into my wrist and tear out my own veins until I start to bleed profusely. Using the blood to loosen the bonds I slip my arm out. Snarling and yelling I angle my arm backward towards Pual.

Then all the pain stops. I come back to my senses and notice the peculiar sense of my right arm bending backward at a right angle while stretching an extra meter in length going through Pauls' chest while my hand is currently on the other side holding his still-beating heart.

[Da fuck?]