Blood is forming puddles on the forest floor from the decapitated bodies, which hang by a thick steel wire bound around their feet and tied to the limbs of the trees above. I must press on and face my fears, for ahead lies my only escape from my own madness.
I'm not scared of the edge; not the edge of the blade, the edge of the building or the edge of sanity. It's all the things that push me to the edge, that frighten me.