Dusk is arising as the sun sets. The late Autumn dryness crisps the leaves into fragile shards of fresh glass. As I walk with cold, bare feet down the mountain top, I sense another's presence, no where to be seen in the shadows. As I search for numerous hours, time is finite in this land of fear and dread. The wind picks me up, and with ear-shattering shrills, carries me into an unfamiliar place. Into It...I cannot see a thing, however I develop a sixth sense as my sight diminishes into a craven flashlight, which soon disappeared entirely. The frigidness of the air is a noose...and It has life that has fallen directly into Its hands. But he taunts me, mocking me, thinks of me as his toy. But I get his signal and I know I will not be coming back to these mountains. I came with a swiftness incomparable to the eye's detection, and now I will exit with the same swiftness of the howling wind that now fills my soul and sinks me deeper into the Earth's core.