Unknown

Weighed down

By the spoils of

Victory.

Treasures,

Well earned.

They trek through

The dark,

Burnt forest of ashes.

Pleased with their haul and

Lost in joyful thoughts of

Home.

SNAP!

The sound breaks

Through thoughts and

Reverie.

The Victor looks round,

searching for the source of

The echo.

Finding only dark

And the constant ash.

Panic sinks in

Through the seems of

Calm and they

Begin to leave faster.

More sounds,

Cracks and other

Such sounds

Burning through the forest.

The Victor sped on

Faster,

Fearful of the unseen.

They begin to drop

Their prizes.

Bit by bit,

The Victor leaves a trail of riches.

Desperate to escape.

The Unknown stops them

Dead.

Appearing before them,

A black,

Incomprehensible nightmare

Made of claws and tendrils and

All manner of things

Wrong.

The Victor draws to fight,

And is shown,

They cannot.