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At the Corpse

When we walked through that place, we became aware that we were not alone. The question was if we had ever been alone, or if he had been stalking us through fate and destiny to this moment and this place? Was he confined to a four-dimensional space like we are? Whatever the answer to those questions was, it was also meaningless. It was in that place that he found us. One by one we disappeared into the shadows casts by the moon against the thick trees.
Each time one of us went missing, we would murmur and suggest that we look, but we knew we wouldn’t. Some deep-seated knowledge, primordial in our core, knew that our friends were already dead. I didn’t know if they were tortured first, but at that point, I didn’t care. I only cared about escape. Each turn through the forests brought us to a new mist-shrouded corpse of trees. At each one, a new atrocity visited on an old friend. A corpse for each corpse. Tied or pinned to one trunk, skin stretched out welcoming us in carrion embrace to join forever in oblivion. We ran, we would not escape for long.

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