Hood

I scramble to my feet and back up, palms pressing against the chain link fence behind me. The horror in my eyes was as dark as the hooded figure in front. The only way I stopped its attack was to pull back the top of its hoodie to reveal their face. "But, I thought you weren't real!" I exclaimed, my hands gripping the fence as though it would save me. The flames on his skull shed no light, whether under the hood or not, as they licked across the surface of the bare white bone. It was only then that I noticed the whip in his left hand. He stared into my eyes, and I could begin to see my reflection in the flames of the hollow sockets. I yelled, first in terror then in anger, and used the fence behind me to shove off and run. I figured from legends that I couldn't outrun him for long. No one, after all, escapes the ghost rider. But if I could just survive until sunrise, maybe I could have the day to get things in order. Everyone is guilty of something, I thought as I ran. No one really gets to walk away innocent when they are being judged. I thought about all the wrongs I had done in my life. I had reasons for most of them. I didn't figure that would really matter much... didn't everyone have a 'reason' for their wrongdoings? Who, if anyone, would be considered innocent enough to escape its wrath?

I saw him coming as I rounded a corner; clearly I was no match for his speed. I don't know what made me stop. Maybe it was the knowledge that I was uselessly exhausting myself in the last few seconds of life. I felt him stop behind me. I turned to face my death, knowing I deserved whatever he was going to do. He pulled his hood back and began you stare. I don't know how it's possible for a thing with no eyes to stare, but I felt, to my depths, the stab of his gaze. I looked back, once again seeing myself reflected in the cold dark flames of the figure. As I kept watching, my reflection turned into a recording of my selfishness and lack of compassion I had showed in many ways through my years alive. The shame washed over me and I began to hang my head. A bony hand reached out to my chin to stop me, bringing my eyes back to its face. His sharp, hellishly deep voice spoke "You have done wrong. You are guilty." "I know," is all I could manage to whisper. Then his voice again, softly almost to match my own, "You regret and admit your wrongs. You learn and try to improve." Then came the words I least expected...

"YOU ARE FREE."