It was as if a gateway to hell had been prised apart before their eyes. Daemons, black and terrible came crawling through the village. With pale scars carved deep in their skin, that hatched and crossed across their and face and ran wild through their body. Screeching – they hastily began to set light to the homes standing at the village centre. Crooked horns glistened in the moonlight, shining a brilliant ruby red as they continued to scream and torment the civilians – scattering like shoals of fish, they would clamber and fall in their desire for safety. Jack continued to watch them from the safety of his ledge; feeling temporarily sure that they had not spotted him. Though he could not stay there for long. Soon enough, if he stayed, they would find him. These nightmares brought his worst thoughts to the forefront of his mind. Thoughts of nightmare and of shadow; of creatures beyond a normal world – corrupt with an evil nature so great that the very image was terrible enough to send Jack into hysteria. Desperately trying to distract himself, he looked down upon the hell that materialized below.