Leo woke up in a completely white room dimly lit by a cold eerie light that seemed to come from the walls themselves. He was sitting down on a white chair that felt like polished stone in his fingers. He stood up and the chair he was sitting on disappeared immediately. That was the first hint he got of the direness of his situation. He then saw an angel standing in front of him. One with golden hair and a skin so pale and pristine it could not belong to a human. His face was a perfect sync of anything he knew and recognized as beautiful. Besides the obviously evident wings, the angel bore a rather strange outfit. He wore a white linen shirt that was drenched to the point of dripping. He had a belt seemingly made out of eyes and their respective nerves. His white pants, also made out of linen, where bloodstained all over. Some stains were old and rusty and some seemed quite fresh and maybe even wet still. Although the angel wore no shoes, his feet were covered in a black goo that seemed to flow from the skin of his ankles.

“Are you afraid?” Asked the angel.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“Who said you should fear me? I know weaklings who fear only their own selves.”

After the question, a reel of horrifying images flashed before Leo’s eyes. His family and friends all dying and tortured in brutal ways. The images where so vivid he could almost feel the pain in his own flesh. Leo bit down a pained squeal and swallowed hard.

“I am not afraid” - Came the answer.

“Well maybe you’re a little less of a wimp than them. Or, maybe, you don’t fathom how deep fear can dig its roots in you.”

The angel showed him his death this time. Leo remembered he had been killed by a reckless driver who ran over him and his motorbike on his way to work. This time he was not seeing it. He lived it. His death would play out over and over before his eyes and he would feel the terror of his last seconds with increasing detail. Leo felt the cold thick sweat of terror run along his back. He closed his eyes and taking a deep breath calmed down a bit but, his death would not stop looping before them. After a while, his mind started to drift. He thought about the reaction his family would have when they found out he’s dead. The idea drew a smirk on his face.

“You think this is funny?” The thundering scream pulled Leo, back to reality or what he deemed reality at that moment. “Maybe you’re crazier than I anticipated. My shirt is soaked in the tears tears of the cowards that begged for their deaths not being able to tolerate another second of the crude reality.”

“I’m not afraid of anything.” Leo was proud of having been able to tolerate the horrifying torture and, despite himself, could not erase the smirk on his face.

The angel was not done. Far from it.

“It’s easy being brave when all you know is the warm embrace of light. The living are not afraid of the darkness but of what they know lurks in it.”

The words of the angel where quickly followed by a snap of his fingers. The lights went out and Leo found himself embraced by an absolute darkness. Not even the tiniest hint of light could be perceived in the room. No movement, no silhouettes. Closing his eyes did not help at all for, he would see the same thing: nothing. Leo began sweating profusely and the smile on his face was replaced by a soft and anxious wheezing. His mind desperately tried to create hallucinations in an attempt to perceive even the faintest of color but the darkness was so dense, it seemed to actively eat away Leo’s mind.

“Darkness takes over your soul faster than anything.” The angel’s voice seemed to come from everywhere at the same time. “Your senses are numb; your mind tries and fails to understand the lack of stimuli. It’s almost as if your life had ended before you had time to realize but, you still breathe. Fear will claim your mind in no time.”

“I am not afraid.” Bobby realized he could not even hear his words. He tried to stay calm and began to walk forward with no real goal in mind. As he walked, the sound of his steps was completely consumed by the dense darkness and he could barely feel the steps being taken. He was not completely sure if he was standing. He stretched his arms in hopes of finding something to grasp.

“Who are you trying to fool, kid? The will and courage of the waste of flesh you call kin rots faster than their eyes do on my waist. They eventually tear them off, trying hopelessly to see the tiniest faint of color. Even that of their own blood would be an acceptable color. Their agonizing screams would not go beyond their own lips and they would squirm asking for–.”

The angel was interrupted by Leo’s hand grabbing a hold on its shirt collar. It saw the tears stream along the boy’s arm and dripping off his elbow. The lights came back on and Leo was both blinded by them momentarily and filled with excitement as all of the new stimuli overwhelmed his mind. The angel then lifted a finger and hovered it next to Leo’s arm.

“You still think this is a game. Maybe you still don’t understand the direness of this situation.”

The angel touched Bobby’s forearm and it immediately fractured on two points. Bobby bellowed in agony and let go of the angel’s shirt. “Pain will bring you to your wit’s end and take a toll on your sanity. It’s a primal thing to fear pain.” As he spoke angel ran his fingers through Leo’s side and as his finger touched the boy’s ribs they shattered as cuts and bruises appeared almost immediately on the right side of his chest.

Leo screamed in intense suffering. The angel grabbed Bobby by the neck before he could plummet to the ground. His hands were cold and pulsated with an aura that made Leo feel nausea immediately. Blood was pouring from the wounds and his mouth. The angel lifted a second finger and touched Bobby’s legs. Two, finger sized, holes where immediately punched through them as if he had been impaled by invisible spears that pierced flesh bone and marrow alike.

“What do you feel?” The angel asked as he waved his fingers in front of Leo’s face with a sadistic smile on his face.

“I feel nothing.”

Leo struggled not to scream as his words where interrupted by a new agony caused by a third and fourth hole being punched, this time, through his sheens. So much of his blood was on the ground that it seemed impossible for him to be alive. The angel let go of Leo’s neck and he fell on a puddle of his own blood.

“My pants are stained with the last few drops of blood I squeezed from the cowards who, against the natural sense of self preservation, begged for their deaths after learning how fear can make your flesh and bone tremble in anticipation.” Said the angel, before turning around and started walking away from him.

Leo refused to give in and seeing that the angel had turned his back on him, he gathered his strength and addressed him with a sad but barely evident smile. “I’m not afraid of you.”

The angel turned around with a warped and vicious smile on its face. He crouched, lifted Bobby’s face with his fingers and locked his eyes with its own. Amongst all the pain Leo felt almost at peace when he peered into the angel’s perfect gray eyes.

“I don’t know if you’re stupid or just don’t care. Luckily, for both of us, I don’t care which one is more accurate.” The angel cupped Bobby’s face in its hands and looked at him with a face that, for the first time, gave a compassionate and loving light. “The tar on my feet are the tortured souls of those, lucky enough to serve me. We’ll see how long it takes you to get there.”

The angel covered Leo’s eyes with its thumbs and kissed him. All of the pain disappeared from his body and he felt anxiously overjoyed. He felt as if all of his existence was comprised in that kiss. He felt whole, warm, happy and, more than anything else, alive.

“You’re mine now.” The angel whispered. “Wake up.”

Leo woke up in a queen size bed over golden sheets so comfortable that they made him feel as if he was lying on a cloud. Grasping the situation and what had just happened, he crawled out of bed. He was wearing nothing but a pair of gray boxers. He noticed that his body was different. His skin was pale and completely hairless. His build had not changed too much but it was now toned and somewhat muscular. He felt a profuse itch on his chest and when he reached to scratch it, he realized that a tattoo on his skin was the reason behind it. 564. The number in his chest was written in bright red ink. It looked like radiating blood glowing inside an open wound. He quickly dismissed the scar. He had died and after what he had just been through, few things could faze him. He decided to explore a bit in hopes of understanding what that place was and why he was there.