Sky Media Stories

Mithross - The Red Sun Sends Its Love

WARNING: this story includes content of a graphically violent nature. Do not read if you are easily and/or can be triggered by such content.

NOT SUITABLE FOR AUDIENCES WITH TRYPOPHOBIA

Includes insanity, sociopathic and psychopathic behavior, adult language, demonic nature, torture, blood, gore, major character death, non consensual relationships, graphic descriptions of violence, suicide, depression, possession, kidnapping, jealousy, abusive behavior, trypophobia triggering scenes

Fifth chapter. This one is suspenseful and demonic. It has a lot of religious references in it. IF YOU DO NOT LIKE GORY SCENES DEPICTING EYEBALLS, DO NOT READ THIS STORY.

Chapter 5: The setting of the Sun
Max's POV

My stomach churned with hunger. Ross hadn't come to see me in a long time and that sacred me. I didn't know where he was or what he was doing. I feared for him, I feared for our friends, I feared for myself.

Ross had let my hands free as well as my legs. Now I could move freely about the room, but I was still chained to my bed by my ankle. It felt wonderful to stretch after to long of being in the same position all the time. But that did nothing to dull the fear I felt. Now I paced my cell, wondering where he was. Praying that he hadn't hurt anyone. Praying he didn't hurt himself.

In the distance, I heard the occasional thump or clatter that echoed through the cold concrete halls I knew all too well. Corridors of evil. Somewhere in those halls, my poor Ross was lost. Trapped in some dark place. A place where I couldn't reach him. I was powerless to help him. All I could do was watch as his sanity slowly crumbled day by day and the light in his beautiful cobalt blue eyes slowly faded. Like a toy who's paint has grown old and lost its color, losing its beauty and value. But I had no paint nor brush to fix him.

From down the hall, I heard a noise. A noise that was different from the others. A voice actually. An empty, cold voice with no emotion or soul. Yet I knew who it belonged to.

Ross.

"Pater noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur Nomen tuum. Adveniat regnum tuum."

Something was scraping against the walls down the halls as he walked down them, causing a loud, grinding metallic screech as he dragged the tip of something metal, most likely a knife, against the walls of our prison.

"Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra. Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie, et dimitte nobis debita nostra sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris."

I could not recognize what he was saying. The dialect was foreign to me. But it sounded like... A prayer.

"Et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed libera nos a malo."

He ended the strange words with an unsettling cackle.

Then silence followed. Horrible, chilling silence. Before, all I had felt was unease and tension and fear, but now, I felt a sick churning in my stomach. A burn in my heart. The long for the noise to return. To have any sign that my Ross was still alive.

"Mundea Our Dece Sacrificium, Maxwell, Mundea Our Dece Sacrificium."

My heart sunk horribly in my chest when he said my name. But it was not over. This time, it was in English. I could understand every. word. I'm not sure which was worse.