Journal #7

Chapters 9 and 10: The Dance of Death

Simon


I woke up, to the sound of a voice. "Simon. Simon. Wake up. You don't want me to get mad now Simon." I looked up. All the terror that was purged by my restless faint immediately returned three-fold. "Get away!" I shouted at the skull, wondering if the answer to this strange was theological. That was the skull that started all this, the one that brought us here, for before I fainted in the middle of it's illumination. It wanted me dead. It was evil and nothing but. As I stared into the black, cold tunnels of it's eyes, it's jaw grinned with an evil malice. "What are you looking at?" it said flashing a grin. There was nothing left of me in that spot but footprints. "HAHAHAHAHAHA" I could hear it's evil laugh as thorns whipped at my corpulent, beat up body. I was gone, a blur through the trees, not caring where I was going, just running away from the evil of the Lord Of The Flies. Panting, I stopped to breath. A rock at my feet started to move. It looked as if bugs were crawling under it, sending the rock into a wriggling movement. Suddenly it shaped itself into...the LOTF, "HAHAHA RUN SIMON RUN, YOU CAN'T ESCAPE YOUR DOOM." it's hollow eye tunnels burst into flames. My feet ran once more, pain and thought replaced solely by adrenaline.