...
The ground I'm walkin' on is hard and gritty and burns the soles of my bare feet. It's dark, and I'm moving through a fog that clings to my skin like grease. Why am I here? It seems like I should be somewhere else. I'm afraid, and I shouldn't be. Can't remember why.
I look down at myself, and my clothes are dirty and torn; one leg of my pants is nearly shredded. It's gettin' hotter as I go along. Where the fuck am I? I lick my dry lips, wishin' I had a drink. Finally I get to a fork in the path. They both look the same. How'm I supposed to know which way to go? They both tilt steeply downhill, narrow rocky paths with fog twinin' in and out of the bare trees.
"Eeeny-meenie-miney-mo," I say, my voice hoarse from walkin' in the heat, and I choose the left one. Soon I'm outta sight of the fork, and I stumble on, wonderin' if I'll ever get to wherever I'm goin'. It begins to get lighter, and the air glows with a faint red tinge. Somethin's on fire up ahead; smoke fills the air, and I start to cough.
Just as I'm wonderin' if I should turn around, a hand reaches out and pulls me off the path. It's him. Angelus. He bares his fangs at me and leers, like he thinks he's some kinda mime.
"Where are we?" I ask him. Dunno why it seems so important for me to know that.
"Where do you think we are, baby?" His voice is low and growly.
My voice quavers, and again I wonder why I'm so afraid, because I'm the--. Somethin'. "Hell?"
He starts to laugh, like a comic-book villain, and I turn to run. Away from the fire. Back the way I came. He yanks me back, hard, my back to his front, an' he grates in my ear, "Everywhere you go will be Hell. Because I'm in you now... and I won't let you go until you're destroyed everything."
His teeth sink into my neck, and a red haze washes me away like the tide.
I look down at myself, and my clothes are dirty and torn; one leg of my pants is nearly shredded. It's gettin' hotter as I go along. Where the fuck am I? I lick my dry lips, wishin' I had a drink. Finally I get to a fork in the path. They both look the same. How'm I supposed to know which way to go? They both tilt steeply downhill, narrow rocky paths with fog twinin' in and out of the bare trees.
"Eeeny-meenie-miney-mo," I say, my voice hoarse from walkin' in the heat, and I choose the left one. Soon I'm outta sight of the fork, and I stumble on, wonderin' if I'll ever get to wherever I'm goin'. It begins to get lighter, and the air glows with a faint red tinge. Somethin's on fire up ahead; smoke fills the air, and I start to cough.
Just as I'm wonderin' if I should turn around, a hand reaches out and pulls me off the path. It's him. Angelus. He bares his fangs at me and leers, like he thinks he's some kinda mime.
"Where are we?" I ask him. Dunno why it seems so important for me to know that.
"Where do you think we are, baby?" His voice is low and growly.
My voice quavers, and again I wonder why I'm so afraid, because I'm the--. Somethin'. "Hell?"
He starts to laugh, like a comic-book villain, and I turn to run. Away from the fire. Back the way I came. He yanks me back, hard, my back to his front, an' he grates in my ear, "Everywhere you go will be Hell. Because I'm in you now... and I won't let you go until you're destroyed everything."
His teeth sink into my neck, and a red haze washes me away like the tide.