The world around crow began to dissolve into a swirling mass of colors and shapes, each more grotesque than the last. Shadows stretched and contorted, whispering secrets that made no sense. Were they eyes, lurking in the corner of their vision, or merely glimpses of forgotten fears?
A voice, maybe it was his own, muffled and distorted, echoed in the chaos, asking questions that had no answers. Was it the warm light from the sun or the cold grip of something unspeakable? The boundaries between reality and nightmare wavered as the ground beneath felt like it was shifting, as if a great cosmic force was tugging at his very being.
With each step, the fabric of existence seemed to fragment—was it truly there, or just a trick of the mind? He grasped at threads of thought, but the more he pulled, the more tangled the tapestry became. Familiar faces morphed into alien visages, their laughter hollow, mocking.
"Is this real?" crow murmured, the words lost in the storm of the supernatural. The line between sanity and madness wobbled, and all crow could do was drift, caught in the cosmic horrors his mind had conjured. For a moment crow gained clarity. The fleeting moment of clarity made him aware of the inevitable damnation that he was about to face. "No! No! No"!! Crow ran to his garage, grabbed the axe and then went to his kitchen. He started hacking the gas cylinder. Gas started leaking out.He fumbled around in search of lighter. After he found the lighter he lit it. "AHHHHH"!!! the flames engulfed him. For a moment he screamed,but as the flames devoured him he gradually lost his voice. As the flames raged on the last breath of life left his mortal shell.