"Take hold of my hand, for you are no longer alone, walk with me in hell"

- Lamb of God , Walk with Me in Hell from album Sacrament

Numbness and pain simultaneously flowing throughout my whole body, ringing in my left ear as my legs gave up. I fell, to the blood-soaked snow, unable to move any of my limbs. Burning sensation resonates from my lower back, at the mercy of this blade of a knife embedded itself from behind, driven into my heart, like the last nail being hammered into the coffin built for my own demise.

It hurts.

IT HURTS.

Not being able to scream during immense pain is of course, frustrating at the very least.

It's an intense tickle, but no laughing matter. A nervous shock that blew out every fuse of my nerve system. Logic and rationality gone wild.

The knife slowly removes itself from my body, as the burning sensation had replaced itself with a gust of cold wind only to meet the warmth of my dripping blood. It had opened a void in my body. There I lay on the snow-covered garden, with every bit of snow that landed on the wound felt like sharp needles.

I look at the snowing sky, empty and cold as every means of my movement had malfunctioned. Salivating crimson at the expectation of my own decay.

Sentience began to fade, and consciousness diminishes, hoping for the Sandman to succumb myself to it . However this time it will the Grim Reaper that visits.

A mirthless smile on the face of my reaper, holding a knife with congealing blood that once flowed in my veins, inciting the lullaby of my own depletion.