MANKIND IS DEAD.

BLOOD IS FUEL.

HELL IS FULL.

 

Heavy steps, ragged breathing.

There isn't much time left.

It might already be too late.

 

The labyrinthine pathways of arbitrary sharp turns seemed stranger and stranger as panic blotted out the once deeply ingrained memories that usually guided me.

 

Every corner felt a stranger.

Every straight line too long.

The bell tolls for me.