Night had fallen in the Shattered Lands. Armed with both the Light of a Thousand Summers and the Lost Half-Hour, Sam and his companions ventured deeper into the primal darkness within the shattered hulk that was once a god, frozen forever in the form of a colossus of jet-black stone. Bigger than a mountain, the colossus was honeycombed with a twisting labyrinth of tunnels that Sam soon realized were once arteries and veins, and seeking refuge from the mad gods and monsters who wandered the landscape continued toward its heart.
"What happened here?" Sam asked. "I thought that Gods couldn't be killed."
"Under normal circumstances, they cannot," Sir Spindle answered, pausing to remove his helmet and wipe the sweat from his brow. "But the arrival of the Nameless Ones changed all of that. Reality became twisted and distorted, and that which was immortal became mortal. Beware the Shattered Lands, my friend. Here--more than anywhere else in Faerie--nothing is ever as it seems. Time and space have turned back upon themselves, and madness waits around every corner. The space of a few heartbeats can be stretched to eternity, and the entire tapestry of human existence can be compressed into one terrifying instant. Reality and illusion become as one, and your senses can no longer be trusted. Dreams become nightmares, and nightmares become reality. Were we not seeking the Spear of Destiny, I would recommend that we immediately turn around and leave this place at the first light of day."
I am an independent screenwriter specializing in horror and dark fantasy.|
My current project is a novel best described as a dark fantasy western taking place in the Realm of Faerie. Wish me luck!