PLOT
The Dreams That Await Me When A Moments Rest Is Finally Granted Only Seem To Be Growing More Cruel, Confining And Ceaseless. Many Times Events That Have Yet To Occur Have Appeared To Me, Events Forged With The Bones Of The Desolate And The Damned, Held In Place By Withdrawn Lifeblood And Paved With The Torn Flesh Of Devoured And Discarded Souls. A Path In Which I Have No Choice But To Walk, For To Turn And Walk The Other Way Would Mean Accepting A Fate Worse Than The Damnation At The Other End.