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Back The Wishing Game Save as PDF
Chapters (66)
  1. PREFACE
  2. Full Page Image
  3. ONE
  4. TWO
  5. One week ago
  6. THREE
  7. Present day
  8. FOUR
  9. FIVE
  10. SIX
  11. SEVEN
  12. EIGHT
  13. NINE
  14. TEN
  15. ELEVEN
  16. TWELVE
  17. THIRTEEN
  18. FOURTEEN
  19. FIFTEEN
  20. SIXTEEN
  21. SEVENTEEN
  22. EIGHTEEN
  23. NINETEEN
  24. TWENTY
  25. TWENTY-ONE
  26. TWENTY-TWO
  27. TWENTY-THREE
  28. TWENTY-FOUR
  29. TWENTY-FIVE
  30. TWENTY-SIX
  31. TWENTY-SEVEN
  32. TWENTY-EIGHT
  33. TWENTY-NINE
  34. THIRTY
  35. THIRTY-ONE
  36. THIRTY-TWO
  37. THIRTY-THREE
  38. THIRTY-FOUR
  39. THIRTY-FIVE
  40. THIRTY-SIX
  41. THIRTY-SEVEN
  42. THIRTY-EIGHT
  43. THIRTY-NINE
  44. FORTY
  45. FORTY-ONE
  46. FORTY-TWO
  47. FORTY-THREE
  48. FORTY-FOUR
  49. FORTY-FIVE
  50. FORTY-SIX
  51. FORTY-SEVEN
  52. FORTY-EIGHT
  53. FORTY-NINE
  54. FIFTY
  55. FIFTY-ONE
  56. FIFTY-TWO
  57. FIFTY-THREE
  58. FIFTY-FOUR
  59. FIFTY-FIVE
  60. FIFTY-SIX
  61. FIFTY-SEVEN
  62. FIFTY-EIGHT
  63. FIFTY-NINE
  64. SIXTY
  65. SIXTY-ONE
  66. SIXTY-TWO

"W-w-what is t-this?" I stammer in between pants. I hunch down, my hands on my thighs as I attempt to catch my breath.

"This is Katras, the lowest level of the House of Psyche," Ze comments. One look at him, and he's absolutely fine, his back straight, his posture imposing. Of course he wouldn't be affected by whatever poison is in this air.

I'm barely in control of myself and getting worse. My vision fades slightly, and I can't even tell what's around me. There's only a thick air that presses down on me.

Ze plants himself in front of me and, placing two fingers under my chin, he tips it up so I can look into his piercing gaze. Leaning down, he comes closer to me.

"Open your mouth," he commands.

"W-what?" I whisper in confusion.

But as I open my mouth to speak, he blows cool air into me, his breath becoming my breath. Almost instantaneously, my vigor is restored and I can withstand this heavy atmosphere better.

"This is meant to be an inhospitable place. Here, damned souls suffer for their sins," he explains.

"You mean this is hell?"

"In your human terms, indeed." He nods.

I stare at him, dumbfounded. Is this his idea of a date? To bring me to literal hell?

FIFTY-EIGHT

My eyes stray from him to the dry and arid environment, made even more unbearable by the red, blazing sky that emits an unnatural heat. The atmosphere is thick and heavy, making one want to crawl instead of walk. And as I get a better view of a quarry nearby, filled with souls emitting a dim glow, I realize that's the purpose. They toil on their hands and knees in an attempt to achieve a task that would be easily done in normal conditions. In another gallery, a few meters over, there's another group of souls that attempt to work, only to be lashed and hit by a guardian watching from the sidelines when they fail to deliver results.

"Who are those?" I point to the guardians, the only ones moving normally, not crawling.

"Those are the Custodians. They ensure that the damned perform their tasks."

"Who are you?" an angry voice bellows from behind. We both turn and come face to face with one of those Custodians. He's dressed in a gray linen tunic that's held together at the waist by a thick belt housing a number of weapons. His hand is already on the hilt of a knife, withdrawing it and brandishing it in front of us.

Ze tilts his head to the side, a breeze blowing his long hair from his face to reveal the tattoos that mar one side of his body.

The Custodian's eyes widen, and he immediately lowers his head, his gaze on the floor.

"Forgive me, Commander. We were not expecting you," he murmurs in a subservient voice. "And this..." He slowly turns his head toward me, though he does not raise his gaze.