Sitting in a large, red, bloody mess he was. Gore all around him, his current existence almost unlivable. As all the intestines, and bloody torment lie around him, he tried to rethink how he got into this situation in this first place. Large drips of heavy, wet tears began to drip down his cheek. He began to notice thick gashes on all over his body, yet felt no pain. The sight of bleeding from every opening began to make him panic. He tried to get his mind off it, but the bloodbath around him served as a constant reminder. As his head began to feel lighter he started to stagger as he walked. All of the sudden he woke up. The only words he was able to utter was, “ I am never taking shrooms again.”
Nice, ill skillz son.