by Ria Hill

The patch of stone he kneels on is as bare as it is holy. He has done the unthinkable and sought immortality. That achieved, he waits in chains before the only few who could revoke that gift.

His final sentence is a shock that stiffens his spine.

“Keep your eternity,” the priestess says. “Be our guiding light.”

The flames roll over his flesh, consuming him with a hunger that will never be satisfied.

Prayers tear his throat to shreds only briefly before it stitches itself whole to scream again. His ever-mending body is a fuel that will never be exhausted.

Ria Hill

Ria Hill is a writer, librarian, and nonbinary horror. Chances of them devouring you on sight are very low, but never zero. They can be found online at riahill.weebly.com and on various social media platforms @riawritten.

Website: riahill.weebly.com