Description
Ali’s life was trickling out of his body through his many wounds and flowing over the paving stones to form a large red puddle. He raised his eyes one last time and saw, about three fathoms away from him, an idol that seemed to be mocking him, the faithful servant of Allah. The round and worrying shapes of the idol dated it as one of the ancient divinities, older than the flood, that were sometimes found in the sanctuaries of Hell. As he gazed into the eyes of this unnamed goddess, Ali did not see the strange creature appear behind him, with a twisted smile on its demonic face. “Poor Ali, how I pity you.” he said, as he sank his claws into the body of the brave Mohammedan leader. As he listened to the breathing of his victim slow and stop, the demon in turn noticed the idol. Hit by a sudden inspiration, he sliced out Ali’s heart and swung it like an incense burner, spattering fresh blood over the green paving stones and the moss-covered columns of the abandoned temple.
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