Darkness.

Pitch black darkness that seemed endless.

It was so cold, and although I could feel the coldness as a state of being I had no other sense available to me.

I kept trying to open my eyes, but I wasn't sure I even had such organs anymore.

What was that state I was in?

It felt so empty and cold.

Emptiness, coldness, and darkness seemed to form a unique impenetrable fabric that was suffocating me.

Well, I couldn't be suffocated, could I?

I was already dead. Yes, that must be it -the strange feeling I couldn't recognize was the feeling of being dead.

Should there be any feeling when someone is dead?

Against all my hopes, there were feelings even after death.

Unwanted memories of my last moments of life started flooding in, and the horrifying recollection struck me once more.

"I could have saved my friend," I thought as a feeling of sadness, that had no body to channel it, overwhelmed my consciousness.

Finally, I was able to see through the darkness although I had no eyes, or body for that matter.

It was the strangest feeling ever, I was there but I wasn't truly there.

There was not enough of me left.

Mind or consciousness or however it might be called is a tricky thing, for as soon as I started panicking over the sense of unfamiliarity it created a shell of what I used to be; something that could be described as a ghost.

It was a transparent image of me that in my panic I made as solid as I was able to, in order to have some sense of being alive, which I was obviously not.

Only after figuring out what I was, did I start focusing on where I was.

I was standing on a bank of a strange river which was alive. A feeling of recognition came over me, and I started remembering that I had seen somewhere in the books I was reading something about the crossing over to Hell.

We were waiting for the boat to come for us. I say we because there were many other people there whom I failed to notice on time, self-absorbed as I was.

Our wait ended abruptly as a small boat with a hooded figure appeared out of nowhere. One moment the river was empty; the next moment the ominous figure was rowing its boat towards us.

Even before reaching us he started talking: "What a perfect timing! You are just in time for the Dark Lord's Bloody Feast! How honored you must all feel! "

His obvious excitement was lost on us. What he got were confused, blank stares.

He didn't seem to care about our lack of enthusiasm; he just kept on approaching us.

That was when I finally understood- the Dark Lord was actually the raven who started it all for me. It was the guy who turned my friend into a thing, the one who made me kill her when I could have saved her.

I wasn't sure what a Bloody Feast was, but I was pretty sure my friend would be there because, as he told me, she was his now.

"Tonight, the Dark Raven rises!" strangely preachy ferryman said without ever talking. Then a peal of creepy laughter coming from nowhere, in particular, filled my consciousness.

He actually never said anything, he communicated telepathically without ever revealing his face.

It was too eerie for me to comprehend it correctly, but now as those words crept up in my mind I realized a lot of different things at the same time. My enemy would do something evil again, and I had to stop it. I could maybe even save my friend's soul.

Without giving it a second thought I snatched the sword from the guy next to me, and when he complained I just pushed him in the river.

We were already in Hell, it' wasn't like it would be any better across the river, and I knew at that moment that I would do anything to stop the Dark Lord.

It didn't matter if it was morally wrong or not. I was already in Hell and no morality or lack of it could save me or condemn me.

The only important thing was stopping the Dark Lord.

No one commented on the fact that I disposed of one of the soul; I guess no one cared one way or the other. The ferryman didn't even notice what I did, disinterested as he was about us, the poor souls doomed to Hell.

I knew that the sword would probably not do me any good against Him, but maybe it could be used to reach the place where the feast would be held.

I had no idea how I would do any of that, but I would not give up, not again.