A bond with hell

He felt for the lock in the dark. Like he did every night. He didn’t want them to get him. He had been running for so long. He wanted to lock out the demons. They had been hunting him down. He would watch his back every time he would go out. He felt scared that they would get him and dig their long talons into his soft and delicate flesh. Because once their long sharp talons were in it was endgame for him. The talons would control him and the demons would suck the life and soul out of him.

No one could see the demons. No one but him. He knew they were always there waiting, waiting to grab hold of him and bring him down to the depths of hell. He described the demons to be black shadows that had long sharp talons. The demons had bat-like wings. They had no faces. The only thing that made each one distinct was the size of them. There were tiny ones, big ones and some were so small that when their talons would get you they would feel like nothing but a scratch. But even then a scratch can be fatal.

He knew that these demons were his past, present and future. Could he ever escape? He was a fighter and he would fight until his very last breath. There were some days he was beat down and he felt like he couldn't keep going. But he would always build himself up again. He was determined to never let the demons win. He wanted control not them.

He had emerged from the depths of hell with battle wounds. Even though he was wounded he soon healed and when he healed he shone. He shone ever so bright. He seemed like he was brand new. He had the fire from hell in his soul. He and hell had a bond. A bond like no other.