113 Dead Meat POV (1/2)

The surrounding changes.

I shut my eyes and embrace myself for the torturous pain that would surely come. At least that is what I had thought because it has happened so many times previously, without fail.

Without a single fail!

”Please. Oh God, please! Just let me die already. I can't take this anymore. I just can't! Please!”

I scream, tearfully.

My body and mind tremble at the dark thought. To think that death would be a mercy in contrast to what I have to go through. What I must go through and continue to go through!

It is literal hell! And a devil in human skin is there to make sure of it! He is the devil! He has to be. I am not any threat to him, yet he continues to torture me.

Why!? Why!?

Please just kill me. Just kill me. I just want to die. To enter the darkness peacefully, never have to wake up to the dreadful light again.

Please. Please, God. I beg of you.

Let me die.

Let me just die.

I would never have such a suicidal thought before, not when I am the heiress to a multibillion dollars empire. That feels like a lifetime ago. Many lifetimes. I must have died hundreds of times, in all sort of gruesome and terrifying manners.

My body has been ripped apart repeatedly, and my mind is on the verge of breaking.

And this is all an appetizer!? How much times must he kills me before he is satisfied!? Before he finally stops bringing me back just to kill me again?

Before… before… before…

But the pain did not come.

My body and mind remain unmolested sadistically.

Instead, I feel a strange breeze, washing over me. It as if the air within the room has changed. The still and calmness between each death are gone, replaces with an awful and metallic smell.

What is this!? What is this!?

I cover my ears with my hands and try to stop breathing.

Yet despite that, my eyes open slowly and defiantly, and I find myself in a very different room.

It is a much bigger room.

No longer is the pearly white floor beneath my feet, the unremarkable windowless walls surround me, or the ceiling dots with countless white lights, impossibly bright. They have all been replaced with grey and dark and monotonic concrete with metal protrusions.

There are very little lights hanging overhead, right above a huge metallic ring. Surrounding the strange contraption are numerous computer devices, humming as they process countless calculations.

Those computers are unlike any computer I have seen, but having personally owned a tech company before, I know what they are. They couldn't possibly be anything else with screens and keyboards. But they look like they have come straight out of a science fiction book – impossibly advanced.

”You really have no clue what you have done, Miss Oxford. In your ignorance, you have not only killed me and my daughter but also doom the entire future of the human race. This is the result of your so-called misguided action, and it is only appropriate that you experience it for yourself.”

Maximilien speaks up without paying any attention to me. He is currently looking at the huge metallic construct, which immediate activates and radiates with power.

The air becomes incredibly electrified. Tingling sensation envelops my entire body, making the hair on my skin stands straight up. Even the hair on my head starting to defy gravity.

What is this?

What is this!?

I could see the isolated distortions in space. They are being pulled towards a point at the center of the ring, merging together. Blue light emanates outwards as a spiraling vortex beginning to form, gushing and roaring until becoming calming like water surface on a lake.

But instead of seeing my own reflection in the event horizon of the rift, a desolated world greets me from beyond. Gloomy sky fills the sky above and countless rotting corpses litter the ground. Towering sky-high buildings rust and crumble, falling apart due to the lack of maintenance for years.

What happen to the world? Is there anyone still alive?

”Welcome to hell, Miss Oxford.”

Maximilien speaks up. His hand pulls me off the floor and onto my feet. And that same hand drags me towards the portal with all the intention of throwing me through and into that dead world, filled with unending horrors.

What is this?

What is this!?

”No. No! No! Please don't! Please don't, Mr. Maxwell! I don't want to go there! Please!”

I call out and fight against him and his implausible strength. My fingers try to claw into his skin, but his skin is so hard that my nails cry out in pain in response.

Maximilien stands right before the rift.

And in his unbreakable grip is me, who is struggling desperately in vain.