Bodies lay everywhere... bloodied, writhing, still. Adults and young ones alike. Dismembered joints, heads minus trunks, torsos missing limbs. Life snuffed out in its prime, nary a thought spared to the outcome. The carnage was spread out in all its gruesome, gory, ghastly glory. Who could’ve thought, looking at this dance of death, that these had not so long before been living beings, going about their daily business, without a care! Such was the absoluteness, such the finality. Alas, such is always the stamp of death!
Do the killers know not what they do? Is it for mere passing joy that they...
Read the full article in the December 2008 issue of Horizon Magazine
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