Glen is a sociopath pushed to murder on the basis of religion. Once caught and up for sentencing, he meets a psychologist with a heartbreaking past who is very interested in his story. Faced with an increasing sensation of regret, Glen starts to experience the truth about the wicked deeds he’s done…and it’s Hell!
“I found myself in the halls of the institution. They were darkened and dirty, as though the building had been abandoned for years. The silence was unsettling. I started down the hallway, looking for someone to ask about what was going on.
The squeak of rubber on the floor, as I moved, was loud and unpleasant in the unnatural silence. I called out for Dr. Cody, but there was no sound. I thought I could hear someone, but it sounded far away. I headed toward the voices, but the sound never seemed to get closer. I picked up the pace.
I called out, again, but still heard nothing. I was starting to panic. As the world sped passed me, the walls began to change from the aged white to a reddish brown, either from rust or…
The walls were crumbling and cracking in places, the only lights that worked flickered on and off. The whole situation was like a horror movie. And a bad one, at that.
After an eternity, I finally reached a door. The room placard read “Meeting Hall 102”. The voices I had been hearing were coming from behind it. Even being closer, I couldn’t hear what was being said. The door pulled, slightly, from my hand, opening a crack in the door. The voices were familiar, but hoarse and cracked. My heart was pounding; I had never felt such fear.
I leaned down and looked in through the crack. They were all there, everyone I had executed, sitting in a support circle. All of them were like I had left them, but in different stages of decay. I could hear an industrial fan blowing, filling my nostrils with the stench of putrefaction. I gagged.
Alice was sitting nearest to me. She turned toward the sound and pointed with two different index fingers, haphazardly attached to a mangled hand. Her jaw dropped open and released a shriek, like nails on tin. It drew the attention of the others who started making the same, nightmarish sound. I covered my ears, but they had already started to bleed.
The door swung open. My mother, or at least I think it was, stood before me. She was a brown husk, bottomless empty sockets staring down at me. The phantom of a smile contorted a lipless grin into a snarl. She never said a word, just smiled.
I started crawling away. The others began piling out of the door behind her, all of them reaching out for me. My mother’s bony claws wrapped around my throat and I screamed.”