I find myself floating around in the darkness of my own numb thoughts. My mind raced reliving the entirety of my life, every bloody second of it. I couldn't help but agree with that Roy bastard, I am indeed an Imbecile. All the bloody signs were there, I was just too blind to see them— though it may have been for the best. As sooner or later that cursed moon would have shined upon my unlucky ass, and I would have turned into this...

  Don't think anyone would put up with a walking talking corpse.

  Not even Lissana.

  I feel every fiber of my being unveiling themselves of me, by the end of this, there may not be too much left of me, if anything at all.

  I wish I could sleep, but even if could, this scraping pain would have kept me awaken.

  I don't feel like getting up...

  What would be the point of it?

  I have nowhere to return to, no one to return to.

  Might as well rot here.

  I sigh deep in my heart, as my destroyed lungs don't allow me to produce the actual sound. Though I feel like being forgotten by time itself and remaining still for the ages to come, an unknown drive pushes me forward. I may have lost almost everything, but I still have my will, and I refuse to wallow in self-pity.

  Out of this whole mess, the only thing I can take comfort in, is that my humanity— or at least traces of it, still remain with me.

  Whatever happened at that moment with Lissana, it brought back a spark, yet I am quite aware that somethings are overwhelmingly different. At this moment I cannot pinpoint what exactly, but I'm sure time will tell.

  My hands rise, grasping the edges of the wooden cart, it creaks and shatters under the sheer strength of my grip. I pushed my body forward, stiffly rising from the cramped cart. As I did, I could feel a bit of my skin peeling off my back getting stuck in the bottom of the cart.

  My sight was greeted by the 'ever-so-charming' view of the swamp. Muddy grounds, murky water, occasional bones floating around, and a fog so thick you could hold it in your hands... real lovely. Fuckers couldn't leave me to death in a quainter place?

  I have to say, looking closer to all of this... I really need to have a discussion about Roy's choice of spot for an open air grave. This is just horrible.

  As I was about to delve deeper into my 'humor', in a pathetic attempt to alleviate my situation, I heard howls and gurgles in the distance. Remembering my parents stories about the swamp and its inhabitants. My face fell, the flames of determination shone a shade brighter behind my decayed eyeballs.

  Not about to turn into some monsters dinner.

  Looking at my now pitch black flesh I wondered, would anything actually try and eat me? Aren't I just straight up poisonous at this point?

  It's not like a monster would have the concept of looking a gift horse in the mouth.

  I take a step forward, aiming to avoid whatever was making those sounds. As my broken body moves with difficulty, my boots sink into this sloppy mess of a ground. When I pull myself to keep moving, my boot it sticks to the mud, as I'm left barefoot, a bit of my flesh ripped apart from the effort.

  Now that's just plain annoying. Should I just rip my flesh off and be done with it? No I don't think that's a good idea, no guarantee that I'll be able to move without my muscles.

  Fuck!

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  I keep on marching forward, the sound grows nearer, my flesh gets more fragile at every step. Black goo oozing of my 'wounds' leaving a trail of disgusting black droplets.

  Yeah that's not going to bite me in the ass later.

  I walked and I walked, further and further into this cesspit of a swamp. By now I should have reached exhaustion, though my muscles do hurt like a bitch, it's because of them literally ripping apart, not the straining pain from tiredness. Everything comes with it's perks huh?

  Come to think of it... I haven't eaten in days, and no hunger, haven't breathed in a while, no signs of suffocation.

  I'm unstoppable! Hahahah!

  Yeah right...

  As the sun gets lower and lower, the surroundings start to become more grim.

  Not really a good sign for me. Though the darkness brings me comfort.

  I reach a dry spot of land, with a big shrivelled up old tree. The ground beneath it is dark and lifeless, no signs of grass or moss whatsoever. Just this tall ugly ass tree.

  It possessed no leaves, it's husk seemed dry and dead. It twisted and contorted around itself in a macabre dance. Once I got a little bit closer to it, I noticed some engravings high up, as if carved by a blade, long long ago.

  Not because I was curious, but because I needed some resting place for the night, I decided to climb it and spend the night here.

  Grabbing onto its bark, my hands took support, ready to lunge myself upward bit by bit—but much to my surprise, once I put some effort, my hands digged into the wood, the skin and flesh tearing on the woody surface, revealing the sharp and white bony tips of my fingers. Coming to myself I realised that with just that ammount of effort, I had risen three meters in height, with barely no effort at all. My hands grasped for stability, crushing the wood a bit, my feet dangling in the air like I was a rag doll.

  I looked at all of this in a daze. I sought to understand how a rotten body was capable of such might, not like I was going to get any answers or explanations though, so I quickly gave up on it.

  I looked up and I was not that far from the engravings I saw.

  Carefully planting my feet on the tree I started climbing it again, trying to mind my own strength.

  It was harder than I thought I must admit. Trying to grasp it firmly enough so that I wouldn't fall, but softly enough so that I wouldn't just rip the bark off. Every little movement of mine was filled with an explosive strength, it made sense why my muscles where tearing apart, on top of being fragile, they were being subjected to this kind of power. Which begs the question... where does this come from? From what little I gathered in my time as a 'poultry slayer', its the muscles who produce the strength a body can wield— but mine are all torn apart and rotten, so how is this possible? Dammit! I told myself that there's no point in trying to understand this for now. Got more things to focus on now.

  On my way to the top of the tree I got closer to the engravings.

  They weren't crude, like most etchings on wood tend to be, as the ones who do it are mostly kids or fools madly in love. But these ones were expertly made, even now as ages passed, the cuts were ridiculously clean and meticulous— as if made by a genius woodcarver.

  The engravings although finely made, were ultimately simple in the end, 'E + L' surrounded by a heart. How very sweet!

  I'm gonna barf...

  I made a little retching gesture in a deprecating way, then I continued to climb.

  Damn this tree is tall!

  Climbing higher I reached a place where I could 'rest', but I have to say... It's a really spetacular sight. Well it would be if the tree were still alive. The many branches of the main trunk—that twisted and snaked among themselves to make that crooked shape I saw on the ground—they reached a point were they divided, making a sort of chalice-shaped crown. A little 'tree valley' if you will. That was the place I found myself now.

  I couldn't help but find myself looking around in wonder.

  I can tell why one would choose this tree to immortalize their relationship, though the place sucks.

  I lied down on the spot that seemed to be the most comfortable.

  Looking upwards, to the sky and the barrier of dead branches that surrounded me, I closed my eyes, strangely feeling the movement of the sun, and the coming of the darkness.

  I drifted into a sleepless dream.

  I dreamt of a massive gate. Black, filled with strange runes, it reeked of ancientness. It was gigantic in structure, like utterly massive, I felt like an ant infront of it.

  Then came a figure, and approached the gate. The figure was shadowy, I couldn't exactly describe how it looked, as after every second it twisted and reshaped itself. It raised its hands high towards the gate, and as it did, the darkness around me rumbled and trembled.

  A dark energy flowed towards the figure. It was an abyssal black, with shades of a bright shining green flowing on it. I felt familiarity and comfort in that energy, I wanted to get closer to it, to bathe in it.

  Once all the energy surrounded the figure, it started to circle him in a docile manner, until he pointed his hands towards the gate. The energy violently surged towards the titanic structure, slaming against it and pushing it open.

  The gates groaned open, and a sea of the energy surged forth, swallowing everything, me and the figure included. I had no time to think, no time to move... only to feel as it drowned me, consumed me. And then, just as suddenly, I was awake.