…The snow sucks up the red liquid with a vigour that only a dehydrated child could show, soaking every drop until it is all but gone, and then silence returns to the frozen landscape once more.

Dullcox allows his eyes to open as weak staggered breath escapes his cold lips, while his eyes contract as his field of vision moves in and out of focus. He reaches up and grabs a branch from the one of the many sycamore trees that hide beneath the snows grip and pulls himself awkwardly to his feet. He grips his naked flesh with trembling arms and squeezes himself tightly while his eyes gaze across the white blanketed land before him in hope of spying something that will assist in his desire for some type of Machiavellian resurrection. He spins in a sudden stumbling circle, searching every inch of the world before him with fevered desperation.

“SHOW YOURSELF DEMONIC WHORE, I KNOW YOU WATCH ME FROM THE SHADOWS!” he bellows as his face screws up with passionate anger. A sea of gulls shoot up into the sky, squawking loudly as they call out to him in terrified fear. His eyes dart to the ground beneath him, and stare into the witch’s wild eyes. He sucks in a breath as she grips his legs and pull him downward, into the darkness of the place without a name.…