to die. I couldn’t face that thing; it was all just too horrible.”
“And then we heard this…this horrid voice that I can only describe as the sound of a saw ripping through bone.
“I can’t even recollect what he was saying. I was so terrified I don’t think I could understand it, but he kept repeating it, over and over.” The adventurer shuddered at the remembrance.
“He was this bloated thing…and …and there was blood, and bodies â€“ everywhere I turned, some new horror confronted me. And suddenly he was on us; we couldn’t shake him. Jeremy fell first, and then I ran. I admit it: I ran, left my fellows to die. I couldn’t face that thing; it was all just too horrible. He hit me with a glancing blow as I fled, but even that was enough to take my arm almost clean off. I had to have a healer finish the job….”
At this point he trailed off, lost in whatever regrets he has endured to this day
there is always the face that the nightmare dont controlled by logistic , and it is permanently antithetic between demon spirit and elegant things, the fearing and threating,the only true history is the principle of falsifiability thet can not be disconfirmed ,it is weired , unknowable according to the standard of the best of man