Drabble: Vigil

The damned souls wailed piteous cries, their voices echoing long into the dark despair of Hell. Oblivious, she stepped onto the scene. The tormented wrecks, the remains of humanity bound in perpetual anguish, were invisible to the lady. How they called and screamed for her; how silent they were; only I could hear. Stepping from a cab, she crossed the street, climbing the stairs to the doors.

She would go in, and like the others, she would never come out. She had been called, and this was the end.

Voiceless, I watched her go, and so my vigil carries on.

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