The eyes were howling. Groaning. Sneering.
Their piercing gazes judged all within the hall. Their corrupting stares were enough to make anyone give into desire or discomfort, even if they weren't seen. An invisible force, ever judging.
Yes, even now, a visitor had already fallen into despair within this hall of corruption. Their pain was plain to see, and all those who walked by only did as the eyes do; judge, sneer, cackle and snicker. Their minds already corrupted the moment they visited. The few who could resist such emotions brought forth by the corrupting eyes hidden beneath the veil did not have the power to cleanse it of it's corruption; indeed, it was created for this very purpose. Those who disliked it's effects had but few options; ignore the path to the hall of corruption, indulge in it's lax pleasures, or destroy the hall in it's entirety. But even the Angels did not have the power to cleanse the hall from the corruption itself.
The hall laughed at the man squirming in anguish. The eyes reveled at the sight of the poor fellow wallowing in his own despair, cackling maniacally though heard by none except for one's own soul.
He has to notice.
Yes, he must wake up.
...
But he can't. His desperation led him to this hall, and through his pleas his own demise had been secured. He had begun to believe in himself less and less, and he could feel his grip on reality slipping. Vague expressions of twisted laughter and hundreds of blazing maroon pupils had begun to swirl within his consciousness , indulging themselves in the delicacy that was his sanity. Their gazes gnawed and gnashed perversely at his soul, swallowing his hope and chewing his self worth to their delight. Men and women walked by, harshly judging what was his unabated pain and slow, agonizing, ultimately self-defeating death. The pupils were a part of him now; his soul cried out in despair as the eyes finally observed every part of him that did not want to be observed. Every secret...
A man walked into the hall and frowned. The eyes watched the newcomer enter, just like any other.
Howling. Groaning. Sneering.
Their gazes pierced into the man who entered, vying to gaze upon his secrets. They stared as he walked up to the man on the floor, now convulsing involuntarily as his will was being eaten alive.
"This was not what you were created for." The newcomer said, his imposing stature demanding the wallowing man's gaze. He raised his hands slightly, facing his palms upward towards the ceiling of the hall, yet his eyes remained locked onto the man on the floor.
"Fuck off." The pitiful man spat at the man in response, falling deeper yet into his own agony. "Don't tell me..." His voice trailed off, staring up at the man. He held his head in pain as his body started to convulse more.
"Agh..! No... No-"
"This was not what you were created for..." The man repeated, now moving his gaze upwards to the invisible maroon eyes. "...so cease."
As the man spoke this, the eyes all glared at him in rage. They swirled around him, screaming into his psyche. They gnawed at him, eating at his will. And they stared at him, intruding upon his mind.
Upon their intrusion, their gazes squinted with glee. They started to cackle and howl at the man, for his mind was more corrupted than they were. A feast in front of their very eyes! Their hunger for corruption will be satiated for a while if they could just consume his mind like any other who entered.
But the man ignored their gnawing and laughter, casting his gaze back down to the man beneath him. He flipped his right palm downwards, pressing it against the poor man's forehead. Gripping him tightly, swirls of a foggy dark substance caressed his arms and swam upwards through his veins; inversely, what appeared to be pure light flowed downwards into the wallowing man's body, filling his orifices with rays of light that made the eyes scream. The light was blinding not only to onlookers but to the eyes as well.
The corruption gathered itself into the newcomer, and the purity of his actions gave the man lying on the ground newfound clarity. The man who no longer wallowed in his self-hatred looked up at the mysterious one.
"How did you..?" His voice trailed off again out of awe and speechlessness, just as the other onlooking visitors were. Murmurs bestowed the mysterious man with a smile as he knelt down and helped him up. "I did what any other would do, I'm sure. Are you still hurting?"
"A little..." The man replied to the mysterious figure in front of him.
"Good." The figure answered. "That pain is now only your own." He gripped the man's palm and shook it politely, continuing. "It seems this hall sometimes takes more than it can chew. Don't worry, you're safe now."
The figure now cast his gaze upon the eyes who were just a few moments ago abusing their mind and will. Though his mind was filled with corruption, he maintained lucidity. His soul was pure but battered; this could be seen by the speckles of abyssal plaque that forced itself in, corrupting him.
The eyes saw this and now started to hiss in anger, pathetically shying away into the astral equivalent of shadows within this hall.
The hall was no longer corrupted for now.
...
After laughing with the onlookers and the man for a while, the mysterious figure bid the hall farewell. Corruption returned, but through his actions it metamorphosized. The eyes' gazes no longer abused; despair had left it's confines. And even though the figure had done good, he felt it was not thanks to him who came,
but the man who wallowed.