"Day one...Pardoners tell tales, that direct the way of a pilgrimage. As I walked half awake the other half at rest, my fragile mind was still under the illusions of a disturbing dream. Each step a recreation of last night. As far as I remember, whilst approaching two narrow walls of equal stature and weight. There opposition to each other like a static war of glares, judging by the marks upon the Dacite rock.
I entered, I felt the harsh chilled serenity that seemed to dominate every end of the hall. Its ancient shadows mimicked my movements. Until the last burning ember of the crimson flame, left nothing but the absence of light. From all angles, the screech of crying howls sculpt and almost embody the fastening footsteps, of that of a synchronised but yet ambitious hunt.
He approaches me and the black fire in the cave, escapes into his hungry colourless eyes. I call out to the familiar face that is the reason for my presence in the holy pilgrimage "Wise pardoner?", the words that are climbing out from my static lips and leaving me motionless. The face of hope revealed its true identity.
Half beast and half man, half Angelic and half Satanic. At this precise stagnant moment, when all that was moving was the pouncing paws of the Pardoner and his serrated teeth, when even the ancient walls turned to see the bloody coritied artery dissevered from my neck, spew blood like the compressing of a puppies head, I realised that the pilgrimage had sent my soul to the skies and sent my body deep into the imprisoning layers of the earth.
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