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As he stands on the modern wooden platform he stares longingly for an alternate route then the one he knows he must take. He sees right through the illusion of pearls pouring down upon the earth from the heavens; Yes… he sees through the waters façade and observes that the water appears to be more as broken glass upon entrance.

He strides down the steps at a quick pace as the glass speckles shatter upon his slouched figure and feed the monster licking at his heels. He hops upon his metal steed, the monster’s thick brown faceless form quivers and lashes out at his waist and chest as he gallops overtop the monster’s inconsistent thickness’ of body structure. There is no escape from this beast, but he heads to the one destination that he knows he can find a short-term safe haven. As he rides he recalls the dark memory of the morning radios bleak prediction for the future telling him that the beast will grow for at least another four sunrises before its food supply begins to dwindle. But the memory fades quickly as he switches his concentration to the new growing threat of blood suckers that approach whilst he canters into the deeper woods past eerie creeks and dancing, shifting shadows. He is trapped here and time passes slower then ever because the change of time is unnoticeable by the consistent grey shade above. This is his hell. Fore this is the campsite in which Conrad Stel must stay in for four days and which he has come thousands of miles from the cleanliness of his home to meet a handful of relatives that may no longer show. As he writes God hammers an oak table hard overhead. This is day fifteen. Conrad Out.