• Man was equipped with free will, and shall do as he pleases , when
    he pleases. Some think about the consequences, while other simply
    don’t care. Having no consideration for the people or things they
    affect. Whether it’s stealing money from an old woman, or having death
    paint your hands red. Some of them are unlucky, and pay with their
    lives that end suddenly. Or they end it their self, no longer being
    able to cope with the guilt that lingers in their confused soul.
    However, there those who seek impunity, with all the short cuts and in
    the least harmful way. Of course that will never happen. Every action
    has its own reaction. Whether it’s the fate of being on your knees to
    the guillotine, or looking at the crowd below as you hand from your
    neck, gasping for breath, your punishment shall find you. Somehow
    though, fate has it’s own set of desire for these fortunate people. These
    seven men who sit at a cherry wood table have an intervention, changing
    their fate, before they are soon to be thrown into judgment. All they
    must do is confess their sins. Silently they sit there as their eyes
    are narrowed in either frustration, embarrassment, or pure distorted
    amusement. Compulsive liars fabricating their appearance, holding
    their faces stoic , not even blinking. Red as rage its self, their eyes
    were blood shot, revealing the insanity that is partially hidden. One
    calm figure has his legs crossed, standing still as if a soul was
    absent within him. Only a smile decorated his face. His inner thoughts
    affecting him physically. Across the seven men, was a tall
    spiraling stair case that was dull made out of some matter, apparently
    not metal. There a cloaked figure sat on a high chair with baroque
    designs. It was also cherry wood, like the table the men surrounded.
    His cloak was transparent, revealing the universe and all that was in
    it, flashing images or scenery one moment, and a scene of a obscure
    event the next, over and over again. All is transparent but his profile
    hidden by a mask that expresses all. Like a silence that proceeds
    before a execution it slowly dragged its self out slowly, like time
    it’s self was drowsy, poisoned by their toxic state of being.