Last Words, Part 1: "Fear For The Worst, Part 1: Creeping Death"
Pungent smell lingers
In the dying atmosphere
Moans escape the sky
As bodies rise from the clear
The allies riddled with death
Walls painted with crimson shades
Corpses shamble out of breath
Unaware and aimless
The lone survivor fights on
Rage fills his twisted heartbeat
Impact is made with each swing
Heads topple and twirl among feet
Blood purges the sharp manipulation
Soaked through layers of clothes
Decapitation becomes addiction
Hands tremor with anticipation
He breathes in the stench
Sighs a feeble relief
Bodies lay abundant all around
In the distance escapes grief