The Wonderland.
Shadows consumed the landscape, the smell of flesh and fire loomed in the air, and would have cheerfully greeted anyone still alive enough to care.
This was destruction and death.
Corpses littered the ground and bloomed, flowered red and reeked of decay. They were watered lovingly by the onslaught of blood and violence that fell in torrents from the blackened sky that rose above them. And silently they revelled in it, intoxicated by it. Humour is not lost on the dead, nor is beauty, and lying forsaken in the killing fields they watched the curtains part and the second act begin. It would be a brilliant aerial presentation of magnificent proportions.
The fallen angel, the silent captain, the paladin, the police girl, the Knight and her Count; forged and reborn, transformed, they were all approaching the centre stage. Drawn together by the puppet strings of one fat, little nazi pig of disagreeable temperament and dubious taste.
Marvellous, they cried and screamed for more, unsatisfied.
It was simply not enough gore.
Not enough tragedy, not enough comedy, not enough bodies or blood.
MORE
Even the worms and maggots agreed, writhing inside the skulls and wounds of their new homes, that while this was all quite a jolly good show, it lacked something, somehow, something unknown. A spectacular ending was needed, of course. With all the rage and fury of the first act, to make up for the lack of a third. But that was later, this was now, and what was needed now was… A surprise! A twist-ending! A wondrous side show! Or perhaps a lovely new beast?
This is what should happen, yelled one. No, this is what should happen, cried a second. You are both bleeding idiots, screamed a third.
The worms were somewhat silent on the issue.
Collectively they groaned with impatience, sprawled and immobile as they were on the fields, hungry.
What ever did happen to that twisted little Catholic?
Would the knight say yes or no to the Count?
Would the fat, little pig win or die?
Would it all end in fire?
Time delights in mockery, and the scores of corpses were forced to stay tuned in to the static.
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