Everything blurs together, unable to differentiate reality and his nightmares. His nightmares that have come to life thanks to Carnage. He can’t recall if Magnus is really dead, dying with hate spitting from his bloody mouth. A death he had caused. He knows that some of it is real for his right eye is gone, gone forever. It’s still raw and bloody, still sears with agonizing pain. His flank aches where the magic man had carved his symbol into his flesh, a scabbing Ursa Major constellation to remind him of the ice, of him, and the bear. The bear, it was the newest starring villain in his dream. Chernobyl and the polar bear seemed to team up and torture him. He wonders if he will ever sleep again. But then he still doesn’t know the magic the Dark God left in his system, the new power he had acquired when he had lost his eye.
Slowly he drags his beaten and broken body into the Gates. Smoke stings his nostrils, pollution covering the sky. His good gold flecked eye is dull but brightens as he starts to become aware of his surroundings. There is screaming and sobbing in the distance. Slowly, for he is still so tender and painful everywhere, he limps towards the heart of the kingdom. With his good eye, he witnesses chaos. The Mother Tree is black and charred, leaves burning. The few remaining horses look panicked and dumbstruck. All he can do is stand there and stare. Was this another hell for him to prove himself in? Was this another one of Carnage’s little tricks? Another form of torture. He can’t tell but he doesn’t put it past him. Warily he slowly draws closer, a mangled and mutilated image of the handsome stallion he had once been.
L E D G E R |
