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Excerpt from This Dead Land
by Ian James MacMillan


This land is dead. The trees are many, like bloody dead corpses on the battlefields of men. More death stacked on top of each other. The red leaves cover the ground like blood, amongst the rotting vegetation. The hideous stench of burning trees and leaves, now ash becomest the heavens; bringing flakes of ivory to envelope the night sky. Off in the distance this fire rages, but what we can do is not a thing, for it is too severe. The female reminds me that this forest is her home. She lives with the wild elf-men. So I go with her, and I walk through the woodland, across a river, and under many broken trees, through this massacre of nature. Dark shadows dance, throughout the boughs, spying upon my actions. I know it, and I can feel it as well. The evil entity must be related to this fire. For who else would do something like this? The shadows crawl about my eyes and molest my sanity. I push on regardless, for what have I to fear. I am only immortal in the eyes of the wise men, upon the mountains of awe. Now we run, twixt the decay and putrid trunks, the homes of the enforested cretins that make nature so beautiful. My heart no long beats inside my chest. I feel cold, pale, undead. I notice my decomposing skin, which comes off in layers and flakes, like how the wind warps and carries the sand of the deserts. Oh, what have the gods punished me for? Am I too much of the free spirit, or the darkling that hides under rock and moonlit sky? Well I shall press onward. Stuck in the cavernous woodland of my mind, I realize that the female left without me. I could do without such an encumberment. The conflagration is still ablaze, more alive than I was ever, in any of my previous lives. Now night and hunger becomes me. Never can I return to the pathways of the crazed and unsane, for I am far beyond their halls. I am the true madman. And when the dusky moon ascends, I shall be born anew, like a wolf pup into the world of survival. But Lo! Lucifer doth rend my mind with his voice! The agony that speaks, writhing in my own lunacy; and the fiery hot ember that is his grasp! Why must I succumb to the hunger? Mars, the stars of war; hatred and hostility, bleed into skies of ebony, like blades poised to amputate, basking in absolute malevolence. A tributary of a brook flows near underfoot, unphased by the inferno that rages in the nucleus of this beast. I kneel down and cup my hands to drink the aqua. Oh what agony!

Instantaneously, when my fleshy tissue meets the water, it sends waves of intense, searing torture up my corpse. I immediately back away, animated by terror. What is this mockery of life that I have become? Although it nearly seized my being, I will chase the brook. It will, for the most part, apt to escort me to some form of civilization, or a gathering of folk. But what would they think of me? I need to find out what is wrong with my flesh and body, my stomach…OH!, the rumbling, the resonance of an underground eruption, the throbbing of a knife lesion, blistering through my belly. I fall downward onto my knees, but I lashed back, as if I was forced by some perverse reigns. After I bring together my thoughts and amass remains, I advance towards whatever hope I may unearth. If merely I knew my destiny!

An odd thickening mist creeps throughout the boughs, encasing the ash, the moon, the sky. It gray tendrils creep across the ground and in betwixt the trees, grasping at my body like an exotic lover; only as if it has come to welcome me. Even tough the fog inhibits my view, I can still see fairly well, as if it were actually dusk outside, but the moon, uninhibited, shone bright and free. I continue to follow the watery path, for a time without end. It was as if time itself had stopped, there were no animals, and no more shadows

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