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More Original Drabble Practice
Prompt: Concerto
Word Count: 430
Hell was never silent. In some small way it was the most irritating part of the wretched place. Perhaps it didn’t bother the damned souls, those condemned or weighed down by enough guilt and belief to spend an eternity in torment, but Jaccen found it overwhelming on some days. The noises, as faint and irksome as a beetle’s legs scratching as it climbed up a wall or as large as a concerto of misery coming from some of the deepest and most populated pits, grated on his nerves and kept him from finding peace.
He’d complained about it to Silvus but had received only gentle mocking laughter. And his cousin was likely right; it was insane to even think of finding peace in HELL of all places. After all, Lucifer himself had to pay for going against the Creator and perhaps the lack of silence tormented the Morning Star as much as it bothered Jaccen. Regardless, there was no such thing as a calm or easy sleep down on the Abyssal Plain where he made his home.
Even the earplugs, both bespelled and merely the most expensive mortal common goods he could find, were no help. Some small bit of sound always managed to insinuate its way into his slightly pointed ears and disturb him. Silvus had told him, once he was through laughing, that when he finally found a quiet, SILENT place to rest, it would drive him just as crazy as the noise. He hadn’t believed it at the time but that too turned out to be correct. His room in the mortal world was devoid of any object that could produce sound, the walls proofed against any noise getting in or out. All there was to hear was his own breathing and he stilled even that.
The quiet surrounded him, pressed against him like a living thing and made his eyelids feel too heavy, gummy and glued shut. He squirmed, the faint rasp of the sheets over his skin and against the other bed linens seeming as loud as one of the screams from the newly arrived as they passed through the Fire Gate. At last Jaccen had his silence but he still couldn’t find his peace and that just didn’t seem fair. The next night, after reluctantly telling Silvus, he tuned the soundscape machine to the ocean channel. It sounded just like the hiss of acid through the Scylla ports, absent the shrieks and bellows of the imported Sirens of course, and for the first time ever, he managed to get a full night of uninterrupted sleep.
Word Count: 430
Hell was never silent. In some small way it was the most irritating part of the wretched place. Perhaps it didn’t bother the damned souls, those condemned or weighed down by enough guilt and belief to spend an eternity in torment, but Jaccen found it overwhelming on some days. The noises, as faint and irksome as a beetle’s legs scratching as it climbed up a wall or as large as a concerto of misery coming from some of the deepest and most populated pits, grated on his nerves and kept him from finding peace.
He’d complained about it to Silvus but had received only gentle mocking laughter. And his cousin was likely right; it was insane to even think of finding peace in HELL of all places. After all, Lucifer himself had to pay for going against the Creator and perhaps the lack of silence tormented the Morning Star as much as it bothered Jaccen. Regardless, there was no such thing as a calm or easy sleep down on the Abyssal Plain where he made his home.
Even the earplugs, both bespelled and merely the most expensive mortal common goods he could find, were no help. Some small bit of sound always managed to insinuate its way into his slightly pointed ears and disturb him. Silvus had told him, once he was through laughing, that when he finally found a quiet, SILENT place to rest, it would drive him just as crazy as the noise. He hadn’t believed it at the time but that too turned out to be correct. His room in the mortal world was devoid of any object that could produce sound, the walls proofed against any noise getting in or out. All there was to hear was his own breathing and he stilled even that.
The quiet surrounded him, pressed against him like a living thing and made his eyelids feel too heavy, gummy and glued shut. He squirmed, the faint rasp of the sheets over his skin and against the other bed linens seeming as loud as one of the screams from the newly arrived as they passed through the Fire Gate. At last Jaccen had his silence but he still couldn’t find his peace and that just didn’t seem fair. The next night, after reluctantly telling Silvus, he tuned the soundscape machine to the ocean channel. It sounded just like the hiss of acid through the Scylla ports, absent the shrieks and bellows of the imported Sirens of course, and for the first time ever, he managed to get a full night of uninterrupted sleep.