This is the seventh part in the tale. Find the prequels here:
Now the tale continues..
The levitating carton of milk approached me.
I grabbed it out of the air, and held it in my hand, staring at it. The cold voice devilishly sneered.
“Finally chose to accept the offer, eh? Now drink it up.”
My body was acting on its own now. Rather, it was acting on the voice’s will. I could only watch as my own hand brought the carton to my lips, and drizzled the contents down my throat. The liquid burned all the way into my stomach. As I took a step back in anguish, I tripped over a skeleton, and fell down with a crash. More cartons appeared above me and poured their contents all over me, drenching me in that burning liquid. I lay in the pool of liquid, pain searing my body, until I heard a sound. The sweet dopamine inducing diapason, took all the pain away. Then I fathomed the source of the sound – A figure made of pure, white light. I could feel a bed of dandelions covering the derelict floor as the white figure approached. I wondered if this was an angelic dispensation.
However, I realized that there was nothing remotely angelic about the figure. As it approached closer, the sound grew deafeningly loud. The dandelions sprouted razor sharp thorns. And the figure itself transformed into an ominous black entity. I could hear the voice speaking to me again. This time it seemed much closer than it had in the past. It was inside my head, speaking over the routinely increasing sound.
“Now, we shall unlock the demonic powers inside you. Transform, and be reborn as my hell spawn. My servant.”
Those were the last words I heard before my body went completely numb, and darkness took me.
(Read the sequel here – Part 8: Flash Fiction: The Hard Way 2)
Word Count: 298