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REGINAL DELL INFERNO (QUEEN OF HELL ) #12

I was no stranger to emptiness; I had worn it long enough to know its weight, the way it sits in the chest like a stone that forgot how to be anything else.

Hell was everything empty;

Hollow corridors, hollow echoes, hollow hands, and it fitted me like a puzzle. I was the missing piece, the exact shape of the absence that hell had been saving space for.

And because we fit, I heard its echoes, I heard its words, loud in my ears like a voice that had always known my name and was only now choosing to say it.

It was the only company I had, my only friend, the only thing that never left

Because ruin stays, because ruin is loyal in the way nothing gentle ever was.

I was ruined to the pit, not falling but placed, set down carefully in the center of everything broken.

Hell had a message, scratched into the walls, pressed into the heat, humming beneath every echo

But was I ready to hear it?

Could I hold the weight of what it wanted to say?

Still, I felt the shift. Unlike any other, I felt its fury change frequency, felt the ground beneath the fire rearrange itself.

Hell seeks a new master, a new lord, something worthy of its throne, something that had survived enough to understand its kingdom.

And as I fell into a sleep, a slumber deep as the pit itself, the kind of sleep that isn’t rest but transformation

Hell started its story.

Cleared its throat of ash and ember, gathered its shadows close, and began

“Once upon a fire story…”

The oldest words, dressed in flame, spoken to the only soul still listening.

… To Be Continued

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