Six hundred feet under
Timeline: Season 4, before Ides of March
What's the furthest away you've ever been from the place you were born/created? How did you get there? Why did you go? Did you return or even want to come back to where you came from?
There is no concept of time here. Every moment just blurs into the next in an unending nightmare of XenaXENAXena standing in front of me, gloating that she gets to live despite everything she's done and I have to spend an eternity being reminded of it.
When I was alive I knew that if I focused on my current goals, my mind wouldn't go back and linger on thoughts of flames licking thatched roofs. I have no such respite here. They keep bombarding me with images I have no way of escaping, forcing them between my eyelids with a cruelty that would make both Ares and Hades cringe.
They call this place Hell. Until I ended up here after my third (third? Yes, I think it's my third) death, I had no idea that such a place could exist. Hell is so different from anything I've known. It's so beyond our world of petty tricks and sadistic punishments that the idea of a god coming up with a place built on such darkness makes me spine go cold. And my spine never goes cold.
There's no use screaming in Hell, because it doesn't help. It just leaves your mouth open and vulnerable.
I want to go home. I don't even have a home and I want to go home.
XenaXENAXena appears before me, jeering. "I've won, Callisto. You said so yourself. You killed my child, and yet I still stand while you're left with nothing but emptiness. You've always known that I would win."
I take it back. I take it ALL back. Xena hasn't known pain until she knows Hell, and I will do my damned best to get them acquainted. If I am to suffer, then so will she.
What's the furthest away you've ever been from the place you were born/created? How did you get there? Why did you go? Did you return or even want to come back to where you came from?
There is no concept of time here. Every moment just blurs into the next in an unending nightmare of XenaXENAXena standing in front of me, gloating that she gets to live despite everything she's done and I have to spend an eternity being reminded of it.
When I was alive I knew that if I focused on my current goals, my mind wouldn't go back and linger on thoughts of flames licking thatched roofs. I have no such respite here. They keep bombarding me with images I have no way of escaping, forcing them between my eyelids with a cruelty that would make both Ares and Hades cringe.
They call this place Hell. Until I ended up here after my third (third? Yes, I think it's my third) death, I had no idea that such a place could exist. Hell is so different from anything I've known. It's so beyond our world of petty tricks and sadistic punishments that the idea of a god coming up with a place built on such darkness makes me spine go cold. And my spine never goes cold.
There's no use screaming in Hell, because it doesn't help. It just leaves your mouth open and vulnerable.
I want to go home. I don't even have a home and I want to go home.
XenaXENAXena appears before me, jeering. "I've won, Callisto. You said so yourself. You killed my child, and yet I still stand while you're left with nothing but emptiness. You've always known that I would win."
I take it back. I take it ALL back. Xena hasn't known pain until she knows Hell, and I will do my damned best to get them acquainted. If I am to suffer, then so will she.