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A Story of Hell - part I (remade)

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What is it? A planet? A moon? A star? Is it only in our minds?
Whatever it is, wherever it may be, this is a story of Hell.

A Story of Hell - Part I

Mitchell Thomas grew up in Tampa Florida with his parents, who were always concerned for him. At 18 he was involved in designing CD covers with them. To Mitchell it seemed like they never wanted him to leave home. Back then he wanted desperately to be alone, away from his dependencies, and free to live how he chose. It wasn't because he was treated badly, but because he felt he was treated too well. When he was 19 he moved to a town near Phoenix Arizona and got a job as a graphics designer at a business that printed information booklets, mostly for Ford Motor Company. He liked to live by himself, but lately he had a desire for company. Right after he noticed his feelings there was a miracle as if in answer. Mitchell had met a woman named Tina in a café who talked with him until they were both late for work. Mitchell found that he and Tina were very similar. She was a 3D graphics artist who had left her parents when she was 19 because she wanted to live alone. He dated her for two very happy years and finally decided to make his joy eternal. He was 21 and the desire to live with her was almost unbearable. He took her to the same café where they had met, and was just about to propose when a robber came in.
"Gimme da cash drawer!" the burglar screamed and pointed a pistol at the cashier.
The cashier froze in fright. Mitchell's mind raced, he had left his .45 in the car. A shot rang out. The cashier wasn't the target, Tina was. And she now lay lifeless next to her chair.
"Gimme da money now!"
"AARRGHH!" yelled Mitchell as he picked up the small table where he was seated. The burglar stood frightened for a second and then tried to dodge the airborne table, but it was too late. It struck him in the chest and knocked him to the ground. Mitchell dove onto him after the table, grabbed his neck, and throttled him. Before the burglar was strangled to death, Mitchell started a series of right and left hooks. Then he picked up the barely conscious burglar and threw him out the café window into oncoming traffic.
Mitchell was luckily in a non-corrupt town and was not convicted for murder, but fined for litter.

Mitchell shook himself out of the painful memory, stretched and yawned, "Time for work."
It was 7:30 and a beautiful morning but he felt unusually glum. He pulled a T-shirt on and put some jeans on. He drove into Phoenix and pulled into the parking lot of the building of his employment and started to step out of his '68 Mustang. The glumness was growing into anger.
"What is wrong with me?" he wondered.
Then he felt what every other living thing felt at that moment—evil. He screamed in pain and fell back into his car. What had happened? He put his hand on his chest and felt his heart. It was beating hard and fast. A slight craving for carnage hung in his mind. Pulling himself from the car, Mitchell noticed that there was a bright light in the sky, coming towards down at an incredible speed. It passed over the horizon. He ran to the office building, pulled open the door and started to head for the stairwell. Mitchell felt a rumble, small at first, but getting harder.
"Ohhh, shit," he thought.
After he got outside again he saw a giant cloud of yellow dust coming from California. Though it looked like it was moving slowly, he knew it was coming at great speed. He tried to get into his car but a strange evil was tainting him. He threw himself into the drivers seat and started the car. People were out in the parking lot watching the cloud when a guy suddenly struck another man in the face. They started to beat each other to death. To Mitchell's horror, this bloodlust was growing in himself too. Several other people started yelling and joined in. The massacre continued. Mitchell drove through the crowd and hit several people. He saw what he was doing and used all of his strength to drive away from the cloud that was now only a few miles away. He swerved onto the highway and saw that road rage seemed to be a hundred times worse than usual. As he was driving past an intersection, two cars crashed head on. It was no accident. Cars were piled up in areas and their drivers were all trying to kill each other. To his relief, the further from the cloud he got the less the carnage appealed to him. He was now going 150 down the freeway in the desert when he noticed the dust was settling. On the horizon was a deep red tint that blended with the small remaining cloud.

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