"When you stare too long into the darkness, the darkness stares back at you."
Through the dim light of the moon that made way into the undergrowth I could make out a rocky path leading straight up ahead, towards where I reckoned I would find her. The midnight winds bellowed high up over the canopy as I set foot on what appeared to be a stone covered in moss. I looked down at the stone to make sure I do not slip, and then, in the corner of my eye, albeit briefly, I saw her.
An imposing figure in shining armor, standing proud and resolute. Her splendour filled the darkness with an aura of pure majesty. Then, as quickly as she appeared, she vanished.
"Ros! Wait!", I cried. A bird screeched in the distance.
For so long she has been gone and for so long have I been looking for her, that I now started to doubt myself of ever finding her. I knew deep inside me, that what I saw was just a figment of my memories. A creeping shadow of the past that set foot into reality to haunt me. Yet, I held strongly to these apparitions. I even sought them, chasing them into the night oblivious of the dangers that might come from doing such a foolish act.
To my right, a tree swayed with the wind. Its leaves were brown and rotting. I quickly reacted to this anomaly. One hand went for my hilt and the other gripped my sword out of its cover. Behind the tree was darkness, yet I could feel the presence of what to come. The smell of rotting flesh crept slowly in from behind the wooden trunk. My negligence had brought me way too far this time. Too far into darkness; where the dead walk and the living die.
It was a jaw-less abomination, battered with time and the elements. It dragged its broken leg as it made gurgling sounds with each step it took. I looked straight into its sullen black eyes and, even though it looked straight back into mine, I could see no soul lurking inside. For a second, I hesitated. Visions of my dead siblings came rushing in physical form in front of me. Margaret played with a ball on a green meadow. Beside her, Albert looked at the blue sky and the white clouds. Suddenly, a thunderstorm appeared and Margaret started crying. Albert took her little hands in his own, and together they ran towards the horizon into the darkness of the storm.
The bewildering strength of the rotting corpse walking towards me woke me up from the dream. The walking dead was inches from my face. The putrid meat dangling from its face was nesting with maggots, feasting on it. Its hands lashed for me. I took a step back as fast as I could and I caught the mossy stone right under my wet leather boots. I slipped. My head rushed back in response and hit hard on the soil. The heavy armor pressed into my body. Seconds later, a silhouette in the shape of a human being towered over me.
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