Matthew could see and feel everything. The fire crawling over his skin like hungry hands, the chorus of screams around him, the pleading voices begging for release.
And standing among the crowd of the damned was his father, laughing as if the two of them had simply run into each other on the street.
His father's body was half bone and melting flesh, yet Matthew knew him immediately. The creature grabbed his shoulder with a wet grip.
"I knew you would end up just like me," he said with a crooked grin.
"Pretending you were better. Acting righteous. You stabbed me in the back just because I hit that whore."
He shook Matthew's body, forcing him to face the horror. His voice refused to come out because of the shock and sick realization that he was not better than his father.
"Do you want to see where your precious mother ended up?" his father asked.
His charred face split into something like a smile. "Look below you, son."
