Inside The Devil | M.yg × P.jm✓

Chapter 2: Something's Wrong With Patient 666

"They are here. They come for me; they come for you; they come for us," the man whispered repeatedly under his breath, shaking.

The lunatic cowered in the corner, spitting the same words over and over again. He was covered in dirt, and the dress he wore was tattered. There are lines of smeared dust on his feet and disgusting mud of sweat in the corner of his fingers.

When eyes laid on him, people always assumed he was naive. The dirty man everyone avoids. That man that sat there on the cool, murky, hard floor was Sung Han-Gyeol. He was a Priest from Sangdong Church before he was taken off a name after Satanic sacrifices.

Sung Han-Gyeol was a Priest. In all things he's good at the most was driving bad spirit away from a possessed body. He's thirty-seven, prisoned, and insane (nothing is there to describe a Mental Hospital but an average prison. There, in the disturbing building which everyone that lives inside called hell.)

Sung Han-Gyeol was respected by everyone—but that was before they found out about all the demonic activities he does. He was thrown out of the church and forget thoroughly. His family neglected him, his friends, and everyone in the world that is once looking up to him. All of them forgot him.

Sung Han-Gyeol spent his life living outside as a hermit. He doesn't have a home. He lay on dirt, mud, and poop. Han-Gyeol walks around the town only barefooted, telling everybody else that Satan is on the way to burn the world. The gate of hell is open and every demon had escaped, now here they are, standing behind every shadow that they'll take, grinning creepily like a maniac, watching over their fear to a diatribe.

The neighbors see Han-Gyeol as crazy and a weirdo. They call him pathetic and an asshole. No one wanted to get close to him. Not only they're scared of all the words he says but his wretched stench pulls everyone away from him. His decaying teeth that everyone cringes to look at. His appearance was hideous. He had a surly expression and stupid leer that makes everyone fear him. Han-Gyeol was also caught multiple times staring at young women with eyes hungry for a meal, and smirking like a possessed dog. But that fear in Sangdong ends once the mad Priest was taken by people to an Asylum.

It was 3:25 pm when it happened. The sun was striking furiously like peeling off a sunburn under an 83.89°F heat. The street was busy while the forest was quiet and the fog was coming at the bottom ground, curled around the immense redwoods like souls slipping from the ground. There he dropped, on his knees, praying to the head of the goat with bent horns to the sharpest point. The strange eyes stared right straight at him as he sites the prayer. It was haunted, those are not the prayers they speak to call upon the light — it's those blood that split through his tongue as the nails snag his tongue gradually and little droplets of red liquid dribbling and spotting onto the ground.

Sung Han-Gyeol stood up, as his Lord command him, he took the liter of gas and pour onto the trees; on the roots, and on the ground where his grave would be. He picked up a lighter and watch the small flare from it. His unsettling eyes glare flagrantly in mischief. An unusual cryptic grin plastered broadly on his sickly face. "Does burning alive make it less hurt than burning in front of those naked women in hell?" He thought out loud to himself whilst he wears a strangely toothless smile. His eyes bugged out widely.

He plays a little more with the lighter in his hand, clucking it softly on his finger. Han-Gyeol cackled in anticipation, dropping the lighter on the ground with a wild explosion of fire, devouring the whole forest. The firefighters came with nurses and handcuffed him and threw him into the van, driving him into the old dilapidated Asylum. His shriek amused laughter echoed down the writhing road.

That was the last thing Sung Han-Gyeol saw before he was blindfolded in all the mysteries, despair, and terror that lay around him. Here in this building that speaks nothing but agony and affliction. To this day, he still hopes that everyone died in that fire.