Six days and no sleep. Six days of contemplation and hesitation. I was disconnected from the entire world by choice. I had locked myself into a magnetic wire trap, or a wooden room full of smoke. I could never fully appreciate or support the fact that the world would somehow be shaped by the arrogance of fellow echo-boomers. I thought perhaps those who do not sleep are ahead of everybody else, so long as they don't close their eyes long enough for the body to rebel. I knew that my withdrawal from society was based on imbalanced thoughts. I also knew that I was imbalanced. So too was my final sensation and sight that I experienced thoroughly at the end of that sixth day.

My heart suddenly throbbed like a blast-beat, the alcohol in my bloodstream transformed into adrenaline, and then I felt a massive vibration that catapulted me into an unexplainable catastrophe. It was then that many theories about one's dreaming were disproven. Vision had allowed something far beyond life and experience. This ultimate second was set in an environment that could not be imagined, nor perceived. However, in the distance of the indescribable neo-space there was an immensely gigantic figure, stiff as a statue. It possessed that familiar face that was seen in the fireball. Two sharpened horns on its head stretched out for miles. Its mountainous body was postured beautifully. Everything seemed to revolve around this ultra-divine iconoclast. Its omnipotence was not only evident but physically felt as my concept of reality had exploded.

I didn't want to have to deal with this, because I didn't think that in life I was that much of a defect rather than a reject. I didn't think that my harmless antisocial activities were deserving of this. Perhaps it had something to do with those bizarre cacophonies I would play with the untuned guitar in the small hours of the morning. My nature to observe and question what was happening was quickly interrupted by the close distant sound of a chain hooked to human babies being pulled with a vicious effort. Such a sound is immensely disturbing. The horripilation that ran through my questionable existence seemed almost psychedelic. A blast of adrenaline pumped through me like a shot and caused a spontaneous decision to run, as I did.

Then, suddenly I stood on a vast plain with thousands of cross-shaped growths that looked like they were made of bloody shredded meat. It was an eternal forest of inside-out crucifixions lit by a cloudy black and green sky incredibly infested by airplanes and helicopters. While trying to comprehend my situation, I realized that my hands clutched my favored shotgun loaded with infinite ammunition. Indeed, modern mechanical wonders had presence in the deepest abyss. Along with the noise from the aerial engines, there was an illimitable whine that echoed through the gruesome exochrist growth and a loud approaching thump could only excite an adrenalized sense of terror within my questionable existence. Lit only by the cloudy black a green sky approached a fairly large humanoid with a spike-shaped head similar to that of a Klansman's hood. Its presumable face consisted only of drooped and damaged eye sockets. Its functioning was unnatural; it didn't indicate breathing, its flesh seemed to be in an extreme state of decomposition, and its elongated arms and legs possessed that of otherworldly gestures. The sense of grave threat presented by this uncanny organism was undeniable, especially by its handling of a sizable chainsaw that looked to have been engineered by something intergalactic. A readily twitch of the monster's body and the loud buzzing of the fierce weapon began. The demonoid charged toward me with blank persuasion and a very messy instrument of slaughter. What would one do in this predicament if they were equipped with a shotgun of unlimited ammunition? One would likely attempt to unleash pwnage, as I so thoroughly did. Pulling hard at the trigger, I blasted bullets at the creature with survival instinct intensified. Its body ripped and crumbled under my gunfire, dropping it in multiple pieces to the ground.

Was it now that I had to travel through this forest of macabre crucifixes surviving and protecting myself with my significant shotgun? My torturer's mind was obviously twisted and macabre, for it had made survival my punishment. What witches and goblins was I about to encounter forever and ever?