Review Summary: .5 of 5 thought this review was well written
As I approached the creature suspended by a rope from a tree in the frozen forest, I knew that this would be the final time I would encounter such a horror. I have now met this monstrosity three times and have grown accustomed to the sunken eyes and the pastel covering its face; giving it the image of a corpse. I knew what it was and I knew how to prepare for our encounters. But one thing I could not prepare for was the sight before me. The year is 1996 and I knew the creature was embracing its final death for no longer would it retain any aspects of its prior looks nor its previous life. But then its eyes opened; straining to fight the torture it was feeling. And then I saw it and the words of what I saw came to my dry lips.
"A blaze in the Northern Sky"
At once, my hands shot to my temples and I felt myself crumbling, every atom in my body was breaking up and I was dissolving. Simultaneously I heard It; a cackling in the distance, and then a shriek of pure evil. There was a distant, incessant pounding in my head, both hard to make out and extreme in nature and yet somehow soothing and beautiful. It was the beating of drums, the clashing of snare, bass and cymbal that made for such a racket that I could not help but move along to it. I felt what remained of my head thrashing backward and forward in time to the beat; fast enough that I felt it might rocket off of my shoulders at any moment, but I was unable to stop. Mesmerised by such a cruel beauty; my heart beat faster than a hummingbird's wings, and I looked once more to the North.
As the fires poured from the heavens and the daylight clashed bravely with the oncoming wave of red and darkness. The sounds inside my head were almost impossible to comprehend; they were so distance and had a fuzz to them, although that may just be my rapidly eroding memory. I strained my ears; driving out the rumbling of the explosions far to the North, and could just make out a thin and yet high pitched guitar, squealing into the night. I knew not what such a symbol of creativity was doing amongst the destruction that was occurring, only that this symphony of drums and guitars was comfort enough for me as I awaited the time when the inferno in the sky would inevitably reach the forest and melt all icy sights and incinerate me where I knelt. And then I heard Him.
Nothing introduced the wraith-like shrieking that introduced itself uninvited to the evil sounds that I heard; but it felt right at home among them. Never had there been such a glorious display of chaos created among such a picturesque image of nature in its most primal form. Where snow and foliage intersected a red illumination completed the image. I listened intently to the shrieking and felt myself succumbing once more to the forces of darkness; for only now, at the end, did I realize what the voice was. It was the voice of Satan himself. And I said once more what he had created; knowing that soon I would be at one with it.
"A Blaze In The Northern Sky"