'Cold...' Damien reflected as he felt immersed in water. His naked body was exposed to the freezing elements all around him.
He attempted to open his eyes. Unfortunately, he couldn't, for it felt like something had glued his eyelids shut.
'What's going on...? Is this hell?'
He then chuckled to himself when he thought that.
'How funny... with how much people talk a bit the fiery pits of hell... it's quite cold and wet—'
Before he could even finish that thought, he shot his hand towards the centre of his chest, albeit a bit slow due to the resistance of the water around him.
It was a sharp pain... Was he having a heart attack!?
The pain soon became unbearable to the point where he could no longer grit his teeth to keep back his cries. Once he did open his mouth, his body, which had unconsciously begun to gasp for air, was then assaulted with the feeling of suffocation.
The liquid around him was like hands wrapping around his throat. Its grip is becoming ever so tighter. Not even a second later, the taste of the fluids then made themselves known in his mouth.
It had the same viscosity as water, but the taste was repugnant, almost offensive.
He gripped his throat, trying to prevent any of it from flowing any further into his body, but such a thing is impossible against such a flexible element.
His body trembled as he sank deeper into the liquid darkness in which he found himself. Fear gripped his heart tighter.
'What kind of hell is this!?' He yelled in his mind, quickly losing strength in his body. Furthermore, the liquid continued to enter his mouth, travel down his throat, and throughout his body.
The liquid that had flooded his system had entered his veins and forced his blood out through his pores. Damien's body had already numbed itself; however, he was unable to activate his body's fight or flight response.
The capillaries inside his muscles began to swell before exploding, ripping away any flesh from his bones. "Argh...!" The explosion and his screams were muffled by the liquid substance surrounding him.
Although he couldn't see it, he could feel himself leaving behind a line of blood the further he sunk. It was like a red fishing line that was cast in an infinitely darkening sea.
Damien continued to experience the brutal mutilation caused by the explosion following the fluids rapidly flowing through the passages of his blood.
Each rupture would cause a large portion of his flesh to detach from his body. Each rupture becomes less painful than the last, but still painful nonetheless!
Moments after, the brutality soon paused, and a glimmer of hope appeared in his heart before being shattered. He began to feel itchy. It felt like a hundred, no... thousands of ants were crawling in and out of his body.
'It itches...!'
He moved his right hand towards his left arm. His hands gripping the exposed red but now blackish strings of muscles and tearing them off his body.
He used whatever open wounds on his body to tear off his flesh, all just to alleviate this unbearable itch.
The pain was temporary, after all. And he knew that full well, but the itch, he knew there was something strange to it, especially with how stubborn it clung to his body.
After tearing off every piece of flesh his skeletal fingers could come into contact with, he soon discovered that the itch wasn't coming from his flesh...
It was coming from his bones.
'Hahaha...'
He fell lower and lower into the dark liquid abyss.
The organs that kept him alive were now left behind and began to float to the surface, leaving behind the one who had abandoned them.
If he still had lips, they would have widened into a mad grin. A grin so large that it would most definitely threaten to split his face. But, of course, he was now immune to such threats.
But what is the reason for this grin, you may ask? Well...
'Isn't this the fate of sinners? I wonder what I did to deserve such a fate...'
His thoughts slowed down before rising like a raging flame that was given fuel.
'WHY THE HELL AM I HERE?!' He roared.
Damien was but a humble politician from a humble beginning. What sort of actions had caused him to be thrown into such a madness-inducing sea?
He cared for his parents, siblings, close relatives, and even his friends. He worked hard to earn enough money to provide them with the lifestyle they desired, all in order for them to be happy.
All so he, too, could be happy with his life—he could be considered the most selfless man. He was so selfless, in fact, that he would no doubt be rewarded the first-place trophy if acts of selflessness were a contest.
So why...
'Why am I being treated like this...? I excelled in my studies, worked so hard that my hands developed calluses, never cheated both in love and academically, and treated everyone equally... So why...?'
Why was he given such an unfair treatment? Could this truly be hell? He was joking about seeing that damn woman here. Harsh as it may be, she could rot in the deepest part of hell for all he cared.
"Damien? He's a good guy..."
'Huh...?' Amidst his anguish, he heard a voice in his head. It sounded familiar: it was his best friend, Jason.
Jason was a good man in his eyes. He, too, excelled in his studies and was a hard worker... Most of the time.
He was the type of guy to finish one large project and suddenly go off to a party, leaving all the other little tasks to those beneath him. But due to his efficiency in getting the toughest of tasks done, Damien let him join him in his political party.
They were unstoppable.
Even with his flaw, he and Damien had, without a doubt in his mind, built a strong relationship with one another that could even be unbreakable, in his opinion.
So when he heard his voice, he couldn't help but forget that dastardly itch and focus on the vivid image in his head that displayed a scene of his close friend—he seemed to be in some kind of post-mortem interview.
He was dressed appropriately in black formal attire and sat at a white-clothed table. Cameras were all pointing at him and flashing. The interviewer's microphone was pointed directly at him.
'Yowch! Big crowd! But I'm sure he'll be fine without me to support him from the side!'
Jason had begun to answer some questions.
"Could you repeat that once more? Our microphone went out." The interviewer enquired with an embarrassed smile on her face.
"Hahaha, sure!" Jason spoke before sitting up straight and leaning his arms over the table.
He appears to be accompanied by his wife, who clings to his arm. She wore a beautiful dress that complemented her hair.
"Damien is a great guy, perhaps even the greatest and most fit to be the leader of our cherished little party we formed together! He was, after all, the type of guy you could always depend on in your time of need."
Damien leaned in as Jason sang high praises about him. His chest swelled with pride as he.
'It always sounds great to hear these kinds of—"
"But he is a very nosy person."
'Huh...?'
Damien's thoughts froze as he heard what Jason said. Nosy? Him? When had he ever been nosy? Is this some kind of prank?
'A prank like this in front of a crowd of reporters is bad, my friend! They take everything literally!'
He then began to laugh, mocking Jason's clumsy knowledge of reporters.
Jason looked around the room. The flashes from the cameras had stopped their insistent need to blind the young, well-dressed man. However, the small red light that signifies it was recording was what he wanted to see.
He then pointed towards one of the people in the crowd.
"You. Tell me, what are your thoughts on people being too nosy in something unrelated to them?"
The man timidly looked around before answering.
"It's a bit annoying and almost irritating if they're persistently trying to get an answer."
Jason nodded, completely agreeing with the man's answer.
"What if said person were to become a leader one day? Hm? How would you feel about a leader of an entire country looking into a business that doesn't involve our country in any way? Would you still believe they were fit for the role?"
"Even if it may endanger the country?"
"Especially that!"
Jason slammed his fist against the table, causing the man to flinch and hurry his answer.
"Then of course not!"
A large grin briefly appeared on Jason's face before being hidden away with the back of his hand. After feeling the muscles in his cheeks relaxing, he pushed his hand away from his mouth and continued.
"Exactly!"
He paused slightly, scanning the room once again before continuing.
"How could we possibly let someone like that be given so much power? The power to be even more nosy than before. We need a leader who will know for sure when and when not to get involved with our neighbouring countries' business. Especially ones that don't joke around as much as him."
Jason thought about the countless large pranks Damien had inflicted on him. Some of those pranks had cost him several expensive suits.
He took a deep breath.
"And since I would be the next person in line to lead us, I would like to ask all of you for your support on this journey to make..."
He gave a dramatic pause and then yelled out patriotically:
"...Our country the greatest!"
He stood up from his seat and flamboyantly spread out his arms like he was welcoming hundreds of guests inside his beloved home. The crowd roared in fervour; they cheered, and they cheered. The grin on Jason's face grew ever so larger.
He then went on to make promises about how he would fund the advancement of people's healthcare, protection with the police force, and more. And everyone who was there to hear him say this ate it all up.
Damien stared at him in disbelief. This had to be some kind of prank, right? Some sick and cruel prank that he was not in on. Jason couldn't have possibly just dragged his name through the mud, not when they were so close.