06 July 2010

Night Terrors 4 - Ride Insane

Night Terrors 4 - Ride Insane

Nothing and the virulent plague, a nihilist space conflicting with humanity in the cursed plains somewhere in the morose high wastes, a saint unwitting drives an arrow through the desert. He would race the world forever his reverie does not stop at a crash, his thoughts of others not, a choice to freedom to become relieved by respite of the massive horticultural cities and prized farmland with its own sparse selection of towerous monoliths, wild is the darkened world laden with society. In the forsaken forgotten desert, coursing at faster speeds, a longing red wasteland with occasional remnant skeleton and lurching vultures, in passing conflict with limits and peace in cruising through hell fleeing inner demons, from the mixing fires below the surreal dusted barrier align the demons without, like scarabs crawl through the void. In the road a tear, straight across the way a single opening minutes to blazing midnight quickly undone, opened by the salt of the earth. Several of the creatures crawl from the fires, before memories of glass sand drowning in his blood begin in clarity he slams the breaks. The car spins and whips about face and the accelerator drops to haul carriage, a new direction in disturbed perfect insanity, a moment epitaph ethic turning back to ascertain focus to reckon the pursuant kindred attacking with passion. Dark winged creatures dripping tar that eats the ore from the sands of the earth, not knowing how much he could take, secret thoughts inside him wake speeding through the promontory dead lands, scorpions watch from bluffs and cliffs, fantasy heresy from the lower world drip cyanide that burns and scorns the dwelt decay. Lost parallel dreams as driven with determination and sweet insanity, spinning wheels of a convertible tankard with guns of every sort across the seats of an iron swan make haste with revolutionary wheel. He fires modified extended full clip over his shoulder without turning, only using the mirrors to stay the road. The skies burn with fire and acrid sulfur ethereal transpiring as covetous haven hell hath no fury, only rolling red clouds with black burning cover. As he takes the rifle and jams it between the seat and the gas pedal and turns to fight, first cutting a clawed hand at its wrist with a hatchet then throwing its blade between the eyes of another, a storm on wheels of point and shoot resolute combat. Half standing and kneeling on seats as errant demon begin landing to bring wrath, shooting pistol sets between the teeth of evil vile demonic flying war serpents, striking and turning back the enemy. Some carry battered battlements worn and jagged from old encounter quarrels or flaying wars. Beneath the wheels a river stone that washes fallen foe, as closely crawls a cunning creature to the front of the car as one reaches for the steering at the helm, than another at the wheel well. Those that intend to derivate the course are fallen, to scream before perishing the wayside, the origins and endings of the endless apocalypse. Peering from under the car enemy primordial at the clouds of fire, the sly poisoned shell begins to the hood holding the window waiting, despondent brutality everlasting pain annihilation and obliteration the essence of its creation, torturous in vicious wasteland. Lost the way to jump ship, he battles the ultimate attack sword to sword, in retaliation red blood for black, burdened in a final fight, taking both hands he slices the creature from waist to face. Its arms fall open as its sword spins free from its claw, falling back overboard. The air beneficent, he pulls a gun to end all guns from his holster in his inner jacket and spins, pointing it at the windshield demon and looses a single round piercing the demon between the eyes, blood displayed as it falls over the glass. He sits again in the driver’s seat, pushing aside the lodged rifle and augments the radio volume, leaving the creature on the glass as he drives out of sight and again out of mind as the belonged death raptures and the burning heavens decay the ash to wind.