Chapter III, He Who Sleeps Among the Dead
-And so it was that the Sleepers entered into our world, and woe to those who dwell therein with he, and he, and him, and her, and she, and the others. The Sleepers are not many, and nor are they few. Are they family? Are they they merely the same race? Are they even of the same species? Three names continuously leap out at those who investigate the worldly knowledge of the Sleepers. Bemnal, He Who Sleeps Within the Darkness. Croth, He Who Sleeps Beneath the Sea. Grotimnos, He Who Sleeps Among the Dead. Woe to those who fall prey to the Dreamers that follow Grotimnos. For they find no peace in death.- excerpt from the Secret Book of Bemnal the Fallen
It... was... cold...
..
...
...
...
That's all I really remember... the cold... that shiver...
It was dark I was... I was so cold...
I... what... was... oh ya... I'm... I'm Dusty Dusk... I... I'm a grey Unicorn mare... I have a... a... faded... orange mane... like a setting sun...
...
...
But the sun had long since set... and... it was cold... I remember... oh ya... I remember... I was being dragged along a cage, rusted with the mildew and Celestia knows what else overcoming the pony-constructed contraptions of leisure and reconisance.
This is our folly, so focused are we on our luxuries that we fail to see the obvious out of place existentials of our day to day lives. You sit on your couch and you think you hear a voice... but... there's nopony there...
This happens to all of us... but we usually; we simply pay no heed to it. Because that's just how we are.
Funny... all those trivial things seemed so important...
but... none of that really matters now. Not now, not here... not... not in this cage... this cold metal cage filled with the desolate, weak, and crying. this cage filled with ponies who know; who simply KNOW that they won't see the sun rise tomorrow.
It's got that kind of aura about it...
So... where to start... well; I was foalknapped. Not sure when, I was walking along the streets of Manehatten; I heart a pony screem, I tried to help... the... things... attacking the pony turned to me.
Heh... suddenly I was the screaming one... heh... ya... funny...
...
...
...
...
*sob*
I-I'm sorry... I'm sorry, you probably don't find that very entertaining.
*shudder* well, anyway. They brought us to your resting place in the Badlands. A giant bone pit in the heart of a Necropolis filled with the unmarked graves of a hundred thousand soldiers from all walks of life; Ponies, Zebras, Griffons, Dragons, Diamond Dogs, the list goes on and one. In ancient times; the Badlands was used as a battlegrounds.
See, back then; Ponies and other beings practices such powerful magics that the only way to have a fair fight was to insure that neither side could obliterate the other's cities with their battlemages. So they'd come here to the Badlands where a magic hampering field prevents the use of spells.
And then they'd just duke it out.
That tradition was held throughout the world by many species. And countless wars were fought here... so many nameless dead... so many corpses... so many bones burried beneath the rotting dead of yet more fighters slaughtering in the name of honor or freedome.
How many beings are burried here I wonder? You'd probably know wouldn't you?
Well, either way, we arrived at the end of the line. We were directed towards a group of other metal cages and there it began. A group of ponies got out of the carriages dragging the cages wearing white leopord sking robes and carrying scythes. They all had some symbol branded into their heads; a pony eye. With a diamond shaped pupil.
Most of them were Unicorns; but not all. They went to the first cage in front of mine and dragged a pony out kicking and screeming. They brought her over to one of the unmarked graves where a series of growls were originating from.
And there, eyonder the whiping wind; they desecrated the dead and dug up the grave; from there... something... leapt out. A hideous corpse of a pony landed outside the grave.
I had no idea zombies were like this; it looked feral, hyper, fast. It sniffed the air and twitched sporatically as it searched for flesh to consume... it didn't have to look far. Suddenly it rushed one of the ponies and stopped just short of of tackling her when she held up her forehooves; each one covered by a long red sock.
The zombie twitched as it inspected the material of the clothing and twitched its head around before slinking away in indiferance; from that point on, it ignored the rest of the foalknappers as if they weren't there.
But... when he reached the mare the nappers took from the cage... it went berserk.
The nappers restrained the mare; holding her up on her hind legs and pinning her forelegs behind her back. She screamed; the zombie got up on two hind legs and grabbed the mare's hind leg with one of his forelegs before using the other to smash her knee.
The crunch of bone was... disgusting... he broke the other leg and with no means of defending herself; the mare screamed in agony and terror as the zombie came within inches of her. It bashed its hooves against her skull repeatedly until it cracked open; then he... he stuck his hooves inside and pried her skull open completely exposing her brain to the world.
Then... he ate...
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...
...
I... I could hear the sound of his rotted mouth chewing her brai... oh... oh gods...
*vomits.*
A-and then... and then... the nappers chanted as he ate the rest of her...
Then... then when he was... done... he got woozy... he started to stumble but the ponies who I'm conviced are part of some kind of Necromancer Cult grabbed hold of him and gently guided him back to his grave.
Above the disturbed resting place; the zombie stumbled and hung its head; it looked as if it was a bout to... pass out... the Cultists layed the zombie to rest in the grave and burried him.
They chanted some more in a language I'd never heard before; I could roughly make out, M'NULK, PAAL MUTUUK N'GSTAL KGASTL N'GRAST K'VAST BORK AE DAEHL REHK ROK PAAL MANKINGL F'TNKL GRAAN, everything else sounded almost incomprehensible; I can't even replicate the sounds they made, it was almost like their vocal cords were replaced by those of another animal.
Then, a stallion who appeared to be the leader of the group spoke, "Sleep, great Dreamer, sleep among our lord, sleep with He Who Sleeps Among the Dead! Rest with the undying and unliving god Grotimnos! Sleep now in the quiet, soundless, visionless sleep of Death."
Then the whole group spoke in unison,
"
PRAISE HIM! PRAISE THE SLEEPER GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE THEM! PRAISE THE DREAMERS WHO FOLLOW YOU IN DEATH! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE THE SLEEPER GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE THEM! PRAISE THE DREAMERS WHO FOLLOW YOU IN DEATH! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE THE SLEEPER GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE THEM! PRAISE THE DREAMERS WHO FOLLOW YOU IN DEATH! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE THE SLEEPER GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE THEM! PRAISE THE DREAMERS WHO FOLLOW YOU IN DEATH! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE THE SLEEPER GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE THEM! PRAISE THE DREAMERS WHO FOLLOW YOU IN DEATH! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE THE SLEEPER GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE THEM! PRAISE THE DREAMERS WHO FOLLOW YOU IN DEATH! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE THE SLEEPER GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE THEM! PRAISE THE DREAMERS WHO FOLLOW YOU IN DEATH! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE THE SLEEPER GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE THEM! PRAISE THE DREAMERS WHO FOLLOW YOU IN DEATH! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE THE SLEEPER GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE THEM! PRAISE THE DREAMERS WHO FOLLOW YOU IN DEATH! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE THE SLEEPER GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE THEM! PRAISE THE DREAMERS WHO FOLLOW YOU IN DEATH! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE THE SLEEPER GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE THEM! PRAISE THE DREAMERS WHO FOLLOW YOU IN DEATH! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE THE SLEEPER GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE THEM! PRAISE THE DREAMERS WHO FOLLOW YOU IN DEATH! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE THE SLEEPER GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE THEM! PRAISE THE DREAMERS WHO FOLLOW YOU IN DEATH! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE THE SLEEPER GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE THEM! PRAISE THE DREAMERS WHO FOLLOW YOU IN DEATH! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE THE SLEEPER GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE THEM! PRAISE THE DREAMERS WHO FOLLOW YOU IN DEATH! "
I'm not sure how many times they said that...
Anyway, when they were done; they moved on to the next pony... and the next... and the next... then they finished the whole cage... then they moved... to my cage...
But before they could reach me; a scream broke out... no... not a scream... a shout... a battlecry... I looked on in disbelief as Paladins from Celestia's Holy Order of Purging Light rushed into the Necropolis.
I'd heard about them; they were a faction of the Celestian Church who actively opperated outside the main cities; their job was to hunt down cults like this that worshiped false gods and practiced dark perversions of magic.
This was it! I was saved! I was so happy... so hopeful...
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...
That hope didn't last long.
...
...
Because... that's when you showed up...
...
...
They started fighting... the Cultists and the Paladins. The Paladins had an obvious advantage; no magic was active within the Badlands for whatever reason; not even Clerical Magic could work. It was strange...
But these Necromancers were not Warriors; they had combat knowledge as much as any other form of light and dark Cleric; but the Paladins were Fighters first and foremost. I think only a few minutes passed before the Necropolis was drenched in blood as it was so many times before.
I almost wanted to laugh... the irony...
Anyway, the Paladins had military advantage but the Cultists had numbers. In the end they were pretty well matched. The Necromancers weren't maniacle madpnoies in pajama robes waving knives around; they were highly skilled Necromancers; they wore armor and wielded master smith quality war-scythes and combat-scythes.
It felt so disillusioning to watch the two small armies tear each other apart. Soon, undead began climbing out of their graves; the ones that hand't yet been fed the sacrifices still screaming in their cages including myself.
The undead joined the fight and dogpiled the Paladins the whole thing was like watching some epic fantasy movie play out before my eyes.
And then, one of the Paladins shattered the lock on my cage; he shephereded us out and guided us around the battlefield. But all this excitement, all this chaos... all this restless dead...
Well... how could you NOT wake up? Or at least, partially wake up. I heard a lot of stuff from those Cultists... if you wake up... if you truly awaken... this world ends. But it takes you a while to wake up all the way doesn't it?
And while you're partially awake, stirring in your sleep; you can still be lulled back into a complacent rest with a story.
...
...
...
Isn't that right Grotimnos?
...
...
I felt it... I felt it when you stirred in your sleep... the entire ground of the Necropolis shook. At first, everypony thought it was an earthquake... But no... this was something much worse... and much less... natural...
Your hand jutted out of the ground. The Necropolis split open; the dirt and graves flew in all directions as your hand and forearm, void of any flesh, muscle or blood shot out into the sky; your fingers ending in sharpened bone looking like curved claw-like blades.
Youre arm was... impossibly huge. the bones of your forearm took up a circumfrance that occupied 1/5 of the entire Badlands... do you have any idea how massive that is to us ponies? To us tiny insects? You could hold an entire city in your hand!
And that's all that appeared... just your hand and forearm; the hindge of the elbow acted as the base wedged amongst the soil and now disturbed corpses that had been burried beneath layers of dirt and dead bodies.
Bones piled around your arm; undead awoke and crowded around you; the... the Dreamers as the Cultists called them... the walking dead huddled around you and leaned against the bones of your forearm, snuggling in an almost... loving fashion. Some leaned against you; others stood by you and looked away threateningly at the living; as if in defense of you.
I was... mesmorized... I... I couldn't... I couldn't think... I couldn't speak... I... I just didn't know how to react quite honestly...
And then the Paladins began fighting you. They slammed against your bones. Well, some did... others began screaming and grabbing their heads. Even some of the Cultists did. They went insane.
I almost did too. I looked up and saw your hand, flexing among the heavens as black clouds swirled around it. I screamed. My vision blurred. I quickly averted my gaze. Just in time too.
The Paladin next to me went mad as he gazed upon your physical form. He took his sword and slammed his head onto it splitting through the skull as steel met his brain. Well, on the fifth attempt any way. His rebeated headbutting would have been funny if not for the tip of a sword standing in absence of a table.
Your hand took notice of the puny mortals beneath you. You held out your palm and a black sludge the circumfrance of a pony dripped in a long line of slimy efluence at breakneck speeds until it touched the soil below. There; in thinned and streamed until the single line of goup was a series of black strings like those upon a marionette. The central goup at the bottom of the strings fell away and a skelatal bipedal pony with hands stood up; the black sludge fell off leaving stanied old yellow bones covered in splotches of black.
The strings from your hand guided it forth like a puppet towards one of the Paladins who held up a sword in defense. The skeleatal pony ignored the warning and stepped immensely close.
The pony swung its sword; but the blade passed through as if hitting air; he blinked in stunned confusion until the skelatal pony held a bony clawed finger forth; the tip of the bladelike finger poked the Paladin's forehead... after a few moments; he fell to the ground. Dead.
The other Paladins panicked; some even considered retreating. But that plan was halted as the bone and zombie hands of dead Dragons, Griffons, and Diamond Dogs jutted out and grabbed the Paladin's hooves, holding them in place.
In this part of the world where all magic both arcane and clerical was nil, they had no way to command the dead to call forth the divine light of their goddess to protect them; they had only their blades which were proving less than competent and cutting through the flesh and bone of these new stronger undead. Ones from deep beneath the earth...
Ones that sleep close... to you.
The Paladins were helpless... they fell, one by one.
The undead became restless; as you began to awaken, so too did the undead Dreamers that who's bones had long since been picked clean by worms and time. The Dreamers went mad; as your hand flexed in a more agitated fashion; as the Angel of Death that you summoned moved more quickly to administer his reaping touch to all those present, now attacking both Paladins and Cultists alike. It.. .it spiraled into pandamonium.
The undead attacked anything in sight that had a pulse.
The Necromancers and Paladins forgot their fude in liew of this new grave threat. They fought; they killed a few of the corpses... but in the end; they fell. How could they not? With a Reaper and a near limitless supply of undead soldiers who feel no pain nor fatigue.
In the end; the smart Cultists rushed to the cariges and unhinged the yolk from the Wyverns before riding them out of the Necropolis. The Paladins had long since been erradicated. The Necromancers who stayed were ironically killed by the undead. And then... there was nopony left... except... me... and the other sacrifices... huddled at the edge of the battle...
The undead saw us... and they ran. Oh they ran with such unholy speed. I thought zombies were slow?! These things were sprinting like proffessional athletes! Their ungodly growls and screechs of rotted vocal cords rang out into the night.
I ran; I turned and I sprinted as the other sacrifices stood petrified with fear. I didn't call out for them; I didn't go back. I ran. I heard them scream as the undead horde reached and killed them. And then it was just me.
The only living thing in the city of the dead. That's what Necropolis means you know... city of the dead. It's not the literal translation; techinically it means graveyard, cemitary, burial ground, etc. Usually a very very large one belonging to an ancient city.
But I think this is what they really meant... a city of the dead... homes replaced with blank gravestones...
I couldn't run forever... but they can... the dead never run out of stamina; they don't eat, they don't tire, they don't die.. .and the don't sleep... not anymore...
Not while you awaken.
And then... when I ran out of breath and energy; I tripped; I tumbled, and fell at your hooves...
There you were... out of nowhere you appeared. Not the true physical you; but an avatar, just an image that only partially exists in this universe. I can touch it, my hoof poked through yours, it phazes through but I can feel the incredible cold where your body should be...
Yes... you are real... but not completely... this... confuzes me...
But my puny mind wasn't meant to comprehend something impossible like you.
I shakilly stood up on all fours and took your appearance in. You stood on two hooves; upright like a bipedal creature with hands instead of forehooves.
You wear a white leopord skin robe just like the Cultists. Your coat is a mixture of a rotted red flesh hardened like that of a Lich; combined with the sleek black chitin of a Changeling. I see red socks covering your hooves and remember the ones that the Cultists wore... and then it hits me.
Your clothing... that of your avatar identifies with the dead. With He Who Sleeps Among the Dead.
I'm guessing that the red socks cover hole riddled hooves and legs like those of a Changeling... upon your back stretches the fluttering insectoid wings of a Changeling. You look like... like a half-bred abomination.
A Unicorn horn sits atop your head, long and sharp like the Princess' and your pony eyes beare crimson diamond shaped pupils. Just like the brands etched into the heads of the Cultists.
I... I am terrified of you. You stand 10 Hooves tall and an unnatural cold radiates from your body that chills my blood.
And then... worst of all; you squat down in an eagle perch; bones and dead cartlidge cracking as you go; your mouth opens wide, unhinging like a snake's And there inside the darkness of your gullet are two glowing red diamond shaped rubies. They extend from your mouth attatched to the head of a skelatal snake; sitting in the diamond shaped eye sockets.
The bone snake scrunches up to the left and right as more of its body extends from your mouth. At last, the snake pauses with its fanged mouth inches from my face. My eyes shake in their sockets as my heart thunders in my chest.
And then... you spoke through the snake's lipless, and toungueless mouth.
"ssssstttooorrryyyy... tttteeeeelllll mmmeeeehhhhh aaaaaaaaahhhh sssssstooooorrrrrryyyyy..."
Your voice resonates as if ten ponies are speaking at once; all of them with strained voices like they're being choked. An unholy wind blows over my face as you speak. My ears fold back and I try to make myself as small as possible.
Your bonesnake follows me to the ground even as I curl up and begin shaking.
You repeat yourself, "tttteeeelllll mmmmmeeeeehhhh aaaaaaahhhhhhh sssssttoooooooorrryyyyy... nnnnooooooowwww..."
Your voice makes me shiver even more; it carries a sense of extreme wrong with it and... a hint of... impatience? Like that of a whining foal demanding a toy.
And then it all clicks... you're just... you're just a little foal...
You're so huge... and so powerful... you command life and death like it's a game; a graveyard becomes your army on a whim, and you can kill with a touch...
You're a god of death... but... you're just... just a child...
Tired... and cranky... I almost feel... I feel...
...
...
...
Responsible for you... I don't know why... but... I suddenly forget my fear; I stand up, and I sand up on my hind legs; wrapping my forlegs around you. This time they don't go through you; they make contact with solid matter.
The undead behind me stop.
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And then... I tell you a story... I tell you this very story... alll starting with...
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It was cold...
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I let go of you; I land back on my hooves and smile up at your decayed rotting form.
And I feel an almost... motherly attatchment to you...
The undead fall to the ground; tired... sleeping... Your giant arm retracts into the ground leaving a whirlpool of soil and graves to emplode into the crater you left.
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Everything's back to the way it should be..
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Heh...
... I gues...
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I Kinda saved the world huh?...
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I think your voice... it... changed me... ever since I heard you speak I've felt a strange tingly feeling all over... especially around my fetlocks. I look at the ground and see blood pooled at the ground. Yeah... it's like... it seeped out like my skin was a sponge expelling water...
My body feels cold. And hard. My skin is like stone.
I can feel fangs where there were teeth... I ...
What did you do to me? I... am I... did you make me undead? Am I a Dream?!
I Am! I'm a Vampire!
I CAN SEE INTO THE ETERNITY OF THE VOID! DEATH IS REALITY'S DREAM!
PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS! PRAISE HIM! PRAISE GROTIMNOS! PRAISE HE WHO SLEEPS AMONG THE DEAD! PRAISE THE SLEEPERS!
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I'm not a Vampire...
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I'm insane.
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My fetlocks feel tingly because they're bleeding...
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I tore out the veins in my wrists with my teeth...
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I can taste my own blood on my lips...
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I'm committing suicide... and I wasn't even aware of it...
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Madness...
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Everything is just...
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Madnes...
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Death...
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Death is all there is...
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Isn't that right Grotimnos?
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Life is just a dream...
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Death is when we awake up and truly live.
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I'm Cold...
Shhheeeeehhhhhh dddrrooooopppeeddddd... tttooooooo tthhhhhheeeehhhhh ggrrroouuunnnddddddd...
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sssshhhheee'ssss ddeeeeaaaaaaahhhhhdddd... ssshheeeeeee iiiissssss dddeeaaaahhhddddd...
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I... ... ... llliiiiiikkkkkeeedddddd... ... ... hhhheeerrrrr... ... ... ...
Ssshhheeeee... tttoooolllldddddd... mmmeeeehhh... aaaahhh... sssstoooorrrryyyyyy...
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IIII aaahhhmmmm ttiiiiirreeeeddddd...
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ggooooddnniiiiigghhhhhtttt
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