He wasn’t quite sure if he was chasing Death, or if the roles were reversed. The dramatic landscape around him felt otherworldly. He grasped the steering wheel tightly and headed up into the unknown and unforgiving Badlands
Nothing felt real, as if he could step off into space and not fall to his demise. The Autumn sun played evil tricks on his eyes, changing the colorful scenery in fantastic fashion. He reached for the comfort of his mask, and breathed deeply.
“much better….”
He searched the ground for something that would bite his skin, make him bleed, show the true nature of his existence.
Yet nothing was to be found. He stands in the emptiness and lets the wind whip around the stench of his years….
and begins the day anew, as if it was his birth on a macabre repetition in this West world.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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