"Now i lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If i shall die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take" the prayer i recite, night by night. Then i slowly drift off into reality; the haunting nightmares of reality. When i sleep I die. I beg to wake up from this afterlife. My nightmares are a place where everything is what it seems. Nothing is imaginary, everything is real. There's no one to call and everything to fear. It only seems that I've been buried alive.
This place on Earth’s not, why do I belong here? This place is unreal and unlike anything you could imagine. The worst part is, it’s all real… Morte et Dabo, this place has a name I guess. The skies are grey, the grass is dead, the trees have no leaves; nothing but the living dead walk the cold streets of Morte et Dabo. “Drags you down below, down to the Devil’s shore, to be his guest forever. You have such an easy soul to steal.” A creature from behind the trees said. My response was absent; I just looked and then kept roaming around the cold streets. As I continue on my journey I’m strictly left with my thoughts and the silence. So as I go down the forest covered road, I feel like someone is trailing closely behind, and keep hearing distance crunching of dead grass beneath the feet of a creature, an unidentified creature. I have finally reached what I think is the road that leads me into town, but the road goes two ways, left or right, I make a left because DALE only makes left turns. Number 3 in the streets number 1 in our hearts. Dale was right as usual. So I head into town and I go to the local coffee shop and get a nice cup of creamer with coffee, never been a big fan of pure coffee. As I finish up my coffee, I begin to notice I’m the only person left in the shop, it is only a little past 9:30 pm and its pitch black outside. The lights begin to flicker and I see a dark figure standing in the door way. It raises its hand and unlocks the door with its long metal knife like finger nail, then slowly entering he heads my way with a pitch fork dragging behind him, he begins to life his head and shouts “like I said, you have such an easy soul to steal.” And forces the pitch fork through the young man’s chest, leaving nothing but a dead corpse and a pool of blood.
