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Description
Ah-aaaahhh...

His form was taffy, not ripping, but every inch felt like it was going to at any moment, left on the edge of annihilation, too scared to move or pull away, lest his struggle provide the necessary counter-force to tear him apart.

Something was very wrong with this, and it was more than just the pain. He felt the last warmth of purgatory's flames recede, and the cold rush of wind chilled him to his core. That place was agony, but ever endured, ever barely enough to stand, with the promise of Heaven somewhere off in the distance. But this new pain was different, and held none of the promises that the purifying fire did. Henry Jekyll tried not to scream at the thought of where he might be going, at the thought of what might happen to him.

He materialized, and screamed anyway. He could feel his spirit solidifying, and the terror of his soul was old and familiar. These were hands he had, and toes beginning to grow from his feet. He kept screaming, his heart too weak to stop. He knew what had happened, he'd read far too much about souls when he was alive to not understand.

He'd been summoned back to earth, and returned to life. Returned to stack more sin on top of the mountain of terror he'd committed his first time 'round. The light around him began to ebb, as well as the awful pulling sensation. He was slumped forward on the ground, tied and bound, but managed to raise himself up enough to peer through his hair. Being unclothed was once again improper, his freshly moral sensibilities reminded him, but worse was the feeling of eyes watching his naked form. He looked through the curtain of hair on his face to see shadowy figures around him, and one other naked human in a similar circle to his own.

The other man was glaring at Henry, the evident hatred in his eyes made all the more unnerving by the presence of scarlet irises. Henry thought that he might possibly remember this face, but oddly enough the form looked incredibly familiar, as if Henry had often seen this man naked. He felt himself flinch at the idea, wondering if it had been some poor young man that Edward had-

Henry's eyes widened. Yes, that was right. He'd never really seen that body, but Edward had every day. Edward's eyes saw warmth as well as light, and that particular body had never been visible through Henry's normal eyes, but Edward was able to see the unseen, to see that which was invisible, but oh so warm to the touch-

The face was familiar. It was the presence of hair, of skin instead of greasepaint, of teeth, and most strikingly, of commanding red eyes where there had once been hollow, dead holes. Those eyes had never been there as a hint, only a dark baritone of a voice to warn what the mind underneath was capable of doing. But they were there now, blazing back at him brighter than the candles that offered the room's light, and Henry wanted to look away, he needed to look away right now but those eyes wouldn't let him go, they were going to hold onto Henry Jekyll for as long as they could, they were going to repay him for the most wretched and cruel method of their owner's demise.

Henry's limbs were bound, and he could barely move to see, let alone cover his prone figure from the dubious forms around him. The door of the dingy room was locked and barred with three beams of metal, and occult symbols cluttered the floor, drawn in chalk and erased to make room for new ones, ghost images of the old still faintly visible. But the worst was to be the least expected: that another man, also naked, bound, and in the same situation, would hold strike more fear into Henry's chest than the rest combined. No matter what could come of the things around him, the worst of all was unspoken-

-and lay in those red eyes.

Not much else to say, really. It's all in the companion to this picture: [link]

Description
Ah-aaaahhh...

His form was taffy, not ripping, but every inch felt like it was going to at any moment, left on the edge of annihilation, too scared to move or pull away, lest his struggle provide the necessary counter-force to tear him apart.

Something was very wrong with this, and it was more than just the pain. He felt the last warmth of purgatory's flames recede, and the cold rush of wind chilled him to his core. That place was agony, but ever endured, ever barely enough to stand, with the promise of Heaven somewhere off in the distance. But this new pain was different, and held none of the promises that the purifying fire did. Henry Jekyll tried not to scream at the thought of where he might be going, at the thought of what might happen to him.

He materialized, and screamed anyway. He could feel his spirit solidifying, and the terror of his soul was old and familiar. These were hands he had, and toes beginning to grow from his feet. He kept screaming, his heart too weak to stop. He knew what had happened, he'd read far too much about souls when he was alive to not understand.

He'd been summoned back to earth, and returned to life. Returned to stack more sin on top of the mountain of terror he'd committed his first time 'round. The light around him began to ebb, as well as the awful pulling sensation. He was slumped forward on the ground, tied and bound, but managed to raise himself up enough to peer through his hair. Being unclothed was once again improper, his freshly moral sensibilities reminded him, but worse was the feeling of eyes watching his naked form. He looked through the curtain of hair on his face to see shadowy figures around him, and one other naked human in a similar circle to his own.

The other man was glaring at Henry, the evident hatred in his eyes made all the more unnerving by the presence of scarlet irises. Henry thought that he might possibly remember this face, but oddly enough the form looked incredibly familiar, as if Henry had often seen this man naked. He felt himself flinch at the idea, wondering if it had been some poor young man that Edward had-

Henry's eyes widened. Yes, that was right. He'd never really seen that body, but Edward had every day. Edward's eyes saw warmth as well as light, and that particular body had never been visible through Henry's normal eyes, but Edward was able to see the unseen, to see that which was invisible, but oh so warm to the touch-

The face was familiar. It was the presence of hair, of skin instead of greasepaint, of teeth, and most strikingly, of commanding red eyes where there had once been hollow, dead holes. Those eyes had never been there as a hint, only a dark baritone of a voice to warn what the mind underneath was capable of doing. But they were there now, blazing back at him brighter than the candles that offered the room's light, and Henry wanted to look away, he needed to look away right now but those eyes wouldn't let him go, they were going to hold onto Henry Jekyll for as long as they could, they were going to repay him for the most wretched and cruel method of their owner's demise.

Henry's limbs were bound, and he could barely move to see, let alone cover his prone figure from the dubious forms around him. The door of the dingy room was locked and barred with three beams of metal, and occult symbols cluttered the floor, drawn in chalk and erased to make room for new ones, ghost images of the old still faintly visible. But the worst was to be the least expected: that another man, also naked, bound, and in the same situation, would hold strike more fear into Henry's chest than the rest combined. No matter what could come of the things around him, the worst of all was unspoken-

-and lay in those red eyes.

Not much else to say, really. It's all in the companion to this picture: [link]