The town known for its liveliness was now deserted. Something she never thought could have happen to such a place that once flourished with people of all sorts. The feeling of being left behind shadowed her mind, unable to come to terms with the events that transpired here. Her legs however would not give up. As if working on their own terms. Her blonde unkempt hair glistened in the late afternoon sun. The vision of the path before her was blurry, mainly due to her teary green eyes. She couldn’t shake off the feeling of uneasiness, regardless of the colt 45 pistol she possessed. It had about five shots remaining but showed signs of giving up on its third shot. She reached for something in the right pocket of her jacket and pulled out a box of cigarettes. It had two wash down sticks remaining. She placed one in her mouth and had slight difficulty lighting it, but after a few flicks got the chimney burning. She was able to calm down her nerves on her third draw and continued along the blood stained path. It was a strange sight as the blood was coagulating. This meant that someone or something has been here just recently. It was hard to see the cigarette smoke as it blended with the cold atmosphere that engulfed the town. A town people now known as hell itself. The horror that took place here was so heinous that the government eventually denied its existence. They even went as far as purposely excluding it from all published maps. This however did not stop her from being here today. It was hard for her to continue living without visiting her birth place. A birth she considered curse and wished the grim reaper has visited her long ago. She walked unconditionally before eventually coming to a stop. In front of her, were the remains of a church. It was able to hold most of its walls together though they were covered in strange red vines. It was also the place where the blood trail ended. She was at the finale of her short quest. For a few moments she just stood there, taking a few draws from her half burnt cigarette. The orange sun was now taking refuge behind the sleeping mountains. She watch the church doors for a few brief seconds taking a deep breath and was about to enter but stopped as they opened on their own accord. There was a creaking sound that signaled the aging of the hinges. Red bats came flying out of the church, passing her like she never existed, with their dead, absolute black eyes. There was a little struggling but she was able to hold her ground and watch into the darkness beyond the open church doors. After a few seconds a figure emerged from the darkness. It was him, the insignia of death itself, the grim reaper. Completely covered in a crimson red cloak he was holding a glass claymore that illuminated in the dying golden sun. She couldn’t stand the sight of him, hating him for letting her live. She however wanted to end it all here and pointed her gun at him smiling, before firing the five shots that echoed in the evening sky.
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