Chapter One
Horns of the Phantom, Black Dreams

“Fear not me; but the soul that binds you to his world, for it is a felting thing… no more then the mortal coil that holds you earth bound. Not but a strike is need to let free that thin threat we coven so highly. Oh to easy to crack the foundation of mortally for it is like a crumbling statue that takes a new blow with ever realization of our ever dwindling time. So do not stop, fight till it is time… and die for life cares not for you nor dose the world.”

The words tumbled like small pebbles trapped with in a endless stream of roaring river, never stopping, never resting… slowly eaten away by the bitter rushing water till no more then the stone cold truth remands. His world was not here, his world was not there… he was but a figment in the mind of the universe that lives without exciting. Yet he moves forward never stopping for he will die one day but this is not that day; to stop is to admit defeat, to lie down and die. His mind never seem to tire as it workout and over his teachings… as morbid and brutal as they might be they struck a cord in his heart or what ever it was that kept him alive. Quite goes the world he resides in as it seem to hold its breath for an unseen storm that will crash down on him like a forces not to unlike the sea it self.

His body goes tense like the coils of a snake ready to strike with intoxicating movement that seem to leave all reality behind, he was ready for what ever came next. The world seem to spin as his intense stare broke from its long lasting longing, a stare of a unexciting soul that longs to be found. What would come, so it that which come for all things… DEATH?