Damned

In the tumult of the tolling bell ringing in his ears, the young man extricated himself from the scarlet molasses glue like a sleep of a thousand years, his face covered in sticky blood. He struggled to open and close his orifices, disbelieving that these creatures and men had fought and that among them, he was the last.

Step by step, he climbed the church stairs, the creaking floor exhilarating the adolescent's heart. Hands in pockets, eyes fixed on the light, he took a breath and then leaned to forcefully shut the cellar door.

He took one turn, then two, then three; one might think he was mad. He did it to admire the facades and biblical frescoes.

Those angels, with wings of tumultuous colors distancing him from evil, made him wonder if perhaps the gnats had similar ideas ending up on the lamps.

Ripping his feet from the ground, as in a final effort, he managed to crawl towards the baptismal room. Splashing his face with water, cleansing himself in the bath to purify a soul he already knew was damned.

A clattering followed by the door opening revealed the police reinforcements in action. Below, they shouted, "Police! Hands in the air!"

The curly-haired brunette released his body so much that he hit the ground...

4:50 am, Rio Police Station Commissioner Juno led the investigations before the situation after the searches and began to interrogate the suspect.

"Maxence Jeremiah, 18 years old?" "Commissioner Juno 118?"

"Shut it, or I'll shoot you and file an amendment against your whole family?

" The skin of Max's mouth tore in the manner of Glasgow's filth or the Joker.

"You know them, don't you? Go ahead, kill them if you're so tough. You think I'm going to wait for you to crack my skull?" Juno leaned back in his chair.

"Kid, I know you haven't done anything wrong, but the officers torn to shreds prove otherwise. And if people start thinking about what happened, they'd lose their minds, wouldn't they?"

"Big guy, I'm not a seer, so what? Everyone has a hidden side like you. You act tough, but in reality, you're afraid of the world, and I see, I know. You prefer to fight in the dark, shooting at things that don't even have shapes. What do I care about your ideas!"

Juno hit the table with his rifle, demanding he clearly explain what these creatures were. The palm supporting the head, to keep the secret, revealed in contrast the star of Jeremiah's folly on its back. "All the vile beings, the desperate or condemned, they quench the abyss with their blood. This flow of compact thought solidifies their movement in time, so time passes without them being able to admire the sunlight, and their screams stretch over centuries while they die in intangible pain. They are, these creatures, the abyssals."