Johnny walked on, past the withering weeds on his dirt lawn, past the abandoned and demolished houses of his block, past the city with its meaningless people. The wind picked up in the chilly November night, and he looked up to see snowstorm clouds blowing in from the east.
Johnny continued to a small forest, lone and forgotten, miles away from the city on a dusty country road. Inside, it was emerald green and mud brown and pitch black and all other colors that made up the forest spectrum. A small blue-clear stream ran through it, burbling along through the wood.
"Whose woods these are I think I know,
His house is in the village, though,
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow…"
Johnny remembered the lines of a single poem. The fact was, these woods weren't owned by anyone. It was just a small, twenty-five acre stand of trees, but when in the center, it seemed as if they went on forever and ever in every direction. Johnny loved to sit on a special rock, which overlooked the stream as it gurgled on past. Three tall evergreens loomed over the boulder. It was beautiful.
"My little horse must think it queer
To stop where there's no farmhouse near,
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year…"
Johnny thought to himself and smiled. He didn't plan to come here. He only had wanted to think. But his memories had reminded him of a time when he went to a certain cliff to think. Those memories also brought back a girl. Johnny had deliberately steered himself away from that cliff.
"He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake…"
It was silent, a lovely sound to Johnny's ears. No crickets, no birds, no happy noises to draw him away from his thoughts. He sighed, a lonely, deep sigh that seemed to go on forever and ever in the vast drifts of white snow that had started to fall. Every so often, a solitary snowflake found its way through the tangle of tree limbs and onto Johnny's shoulder or leg. He registered nothing except his thoughts.
Johnny thought about many things, like what it would be like if Reverend MEAT was somehow "accidentally" killed, or if Devi came back, or if he just dropped down and died. All came to the same conclusion. The same one that had come to him the last several times he thought about it. Nothing.
He felt nothing for the world, which is what the world returned with pleasure. All that had ever mattered before was gone, the killing of insults, the revenge for the enemy, the death for the multitudes of sprawling pain and torture that walked the earth.
That was his answer! He was always meant to direct the world from the pointless destruction of souls, and the few people who remained had to be disposed of.
Nny smiled and stood up. He knew his purpose. Now, all that remained was for him to carry it out.
These woods are lovely, dark and deep,"
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep…"