The Hell
When he stood on Matthew's chest, his best friend, and blood spurted from all over their bodies, it was an exhausting and even battle between them until Matthew at last gave way to victory.
Jaden breathed out, feeling the fires of hell all around him.
His palm shook over the sheath of his sword, recalling that nightmare that steals sleep from his eyes, the moment he was kneeling on Matthew's chest, raising his rusty dagger, reluctant to take his soul, his eyeballs shaking turbulently and his chest rising and falling at an exhausting pace, and Matthew grabbed his trembling palm and led him towards his chest containing the dagger. empty, not to retreat, not to coerce and relieve him from his h