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Gorski's Dream: Child's Game

February 29, 2008

Ring around the rosies
pocket full of posies
ashes, ashes
they all fall down

The children are singing. Their angelic voices only contrast with your horrifying vision of them, tearing at your flesh and ripping bones from your body, pulling at your intestines before they devour them. Their eyes are a beautiful, flecked light-blue, and they contrast brilliantly with the red of your blood. You try to struggle, only to realize that they've completely removed your hands and feet, leaving you only with ragged stumps of hands; you try to scream, only to realize that they've ripped out your throat; you blink, only to realize that you can no longer see and that you feel the painful trickle of blood flowing down the sides of your face. All you can sense is the glorious, beautiful pain, and the laughter of children as you are devoured alive.

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