A failed writer, poet and a depressed human being walk into a cafe. He orders a coffee and sits down with every other guy in the cafe whose life had let him down. He looks into his coffee, trying to figure out what he is going to do and where his future is going. An old man then comes into the coffee and asks the writer if he can sit down next to him. The old man asks the writer his name, the writer replies "writer just the writer" and the old man looks at him and nods his head.
The old man in his 70s retells a story of his past, he knew a writer himself and he had committed suicide, the writer in the cafe listening to the old man speaking of his past became interested and the writer starts to smile. "You look suicidal as well" the old man speaks to the writer and the writer does not defend against that claim, he does feel suicidal and reckless and emotionless.
The writer in the cafe sitting in the same table as the old man asks a question `how did he kill himself, your writer friend?` the writer asks and the old man replies `the valley of death` the writer instantly became interested and looked at the old man at what he had said. The valley death was something the writer had never heard of but it sounded good to him. The old man smiled at the young writer in front of him "the valley of death is a title given to an abandoned town cursed by some witches from the 15th century, anyone who goes there will slowly die away, about a couple of weeks or shorter should kill the person, it`s a better way to commit suicide than the rope or gun" the old man tells the young suicidal writer.
The writer had lost hope in humanity and the people that occupy the earth, the mundane darkness of every day of cars and houses and celebrities. The wars and the complaining of the greedy humans, cars after cars and houses after houses and the dumbness of television and cinema and celebrity culture, life is different from the old man`s day. Life is soulless and corrupted and full of conspiracy wars to which everyone is used to.
"Go to the valley of death, writer, there is no doctor that can help you so go to the valley of death" the old man advises the writer.
"Where is it?" the writer asks.
``Take this map, it`s been with me for so long, take it and follow every instruction, ok?" the old man giving the writer an old map to the valley of death.
Does the writer get out of the cafe and into his disgusting flat and the sound of a baby crying and young mothers crying, arguments from nearly every neighbor in the flat and violent beatings and police sirens outside. The writer breathes heavily and makes his choice, `the valley of death it is` the writer speaks to himself.
He leaves this month`s rent on the table and leaves the flat and into his car and with the map as his guide he drives into nowhere and suddenly decides he feels like walking, decided to walk still following the map and not caring if he, somehow will end up dying a grizzly death. He walks following the map and then the map tells him to go into a forest/lane he walks into the forest/lane and it gets dark and through it at the end of this tunnel like the forest, find s an abandoned town, with dead trees and masses of human bones everywhere.
Broken down houses and he lets himself stay in one of the broken down houses, he wonders who built these houses if people have died from the curse, in this house he finds the dying mother and a baby, the mother does not want to live. The writer just stares and moves on to another room of his own. He takes off his clothes and puts something more pajamas like on he found in the house, a dead man`s clothes and with a red writers cloak he found as well, around him; he wants to die in something more comfortable that is all, rather than some rubbish jeans and shirt.
He goes out for a walk in the cursed town of the valley of death and he found it beautiful, with all the quietness and death, these things do not need cars or electricity or all the things that 21st-century people die for. He enjoyed this place, even though he knew it was killing him slowly and in 3 weeks` time he will be no more but the bones on the floor.
As days go by he feels weaker and his skin looks paler and even though he knew it was the curse of the place, he liked the feeling as if all the crap he had taken from life is being squeezed out of him, he liked it like a masochist. The writer lying down on the floor in a dead man`s clothes was more poetic to the writer than suicide.
"It feels good; it feels good, death feels good"
The baby starts to cry from the other room, the writer hates baby cries but a flow of sympathy somewhere came to him, the baby was crying probably from the curse of the place, the baby didn`t like the feeling of life being taken out of him. The writer got up and into the mother`s room, the mother is nearing to death and the baby looks pale and dying, the writer suddenly picks up the baby and runs out of the valley of death and into his car still parked and miraculously no one has tried to rob it or break in, the writer rushes the baby into society.
The baby turns out fine and his pale face turns back to normal and he goes back into his flat and the money he left for rent, he uses to buy baby milk and feed the baby. The writer's pale skin turns normal as well. With no rent to pay his landlord the writer gets kicked out and into the streets with the baby, he tries to get the baby in a foster care home but for some reason, they decline due to huge tremendous fund cuts and overcrowding in foster care homes, the reason being there are a lot of broken families.
The writer homeless with an unwanted baby, he decides to go back to the valley of death realizing for both of their sakes, the valley of death is the way to go and the baby would be better off dead instead of growing up in a struggling and fighting in a cruel horrendous world that nobody wants him. He sits down on the floor in his room in the valley of death and their skins go back to pale again and the baby starts to cry and the writer crying for the baby but he can`t do anything about it, the writer slowly closes his eyes feeling sleepy, life is being forced out of him. He gets awakened by a noise downstairs, feeling extremely weak and lifeless the baby he tried to look after is now dead. Carrying the dead baby with him and slowly walking downstairs to see who is making noise, crying emotionally and he sees in front of him downstairs demons socializing and laughing, the demons then look at the lifeless writer and with a dead baby in his arms, the demons take the dead baby to bury and they question the crying writer.
"What is your reason for being in the valley of death?" a demon questions the writer.
"Life, humans, these things we have to do and have to be, it's killing me" the crying writer replies.
"Life is hard for all of us, writer. You look like a writer." the demon guessing who he is.
The valley of death is a popular spot for demons as they like the atmosphere of the place and a demon places his hand on the writers forehead and senses the writers huge intelligence and wisdom, the demons starts talking to his fellow demon friends about the writers intelligence and how they can use him, then in English "humans, stupid humans they always torture the most intelligent one of them" the demon spoke.
The writer passes out and the demons pick him up and take him out of the valley of death and take him to a place, the effects of the valley of death is all over the writer now, it`s a bit too late but the demons know, where there is a valley death there will a valley of life. The writer wakes up in another town. This town looks more pleasant with life and beauty; the writer had never felt so alive before, the magic of this town is that it brings life to things and it is even more secret to the known world. Demons do not really like the valley of life, the effect of the atmosphere is not their cup of tea, they prefer death and suffering but for the writer's sake, they had sacrificed what they love for him. A demon went to the writer and explaining to him what had happened.
"You are useful to us, we need someone of your intelligence and skills to work for us" the demon spoke.
"I just want to die" the writer replied.
The demon nodding his head and disagreeing with the writer, trying to encourage him to work for them and help their demonic cause but the writer just didn`t want any part of it, in their satanic schemes and black magic. The writer demanding them to take him back to the valley of death, the demon again saying `no` then the writer gets something out of his pocket, something from the valley of death which isn`t allowed in the valley of life, stabbing him. Both magic from the valley of death and life collided and destroyed everyone in the valley of life and death and destroyed both towns, the valleys were no more. The demons there were also killed.
The old man in his 70s retells a story of his past, he knew a writer himself and he had committed suicide, the writer in the cafe listening to the old man speaking of his past became interested and the writer starts to smile. "You look suicidal as well" the old man speaks to the writer and the writer does not defend against that claim, he does feel suicidal and reckless and emotionless.
The writer in the cafe sitting in the same table as the old man asks a question `how did he kill himself, your writer friend?` the writer asks and the old man replies `the valley of death` the writer instantly became interested and looked at the old man at what he had said. The valley death was something the writer had never heard of but it sounded good to him. The old man smiled at the young writer in front of him "the valley of death is a title given to an abandoned town cursed by some witches from the 15th century, anyone who goes there will slowly die away, about a couple of weeks or shorter should kill the person, it`s a better way to commit suicide than the rope or gun" the old man tells the young suicidal writer.
The writer had lost hope in humanity and the people that occupy the earth, the mundane darkness of every day of cars and houses and celebrities. The wars and the complaining of the greedy humans, cars after cars and houses after houses and the dumbness of television and cinema and celebrity culture, life is different from the old man`s day. Life is soulless and corrupted and full of conspiracy wars to which everyone is used to.
"Go to the valley of death, writer, there is no doctor that can help you so go to the valley of death" the old man advises the writer.
"Where is it?" the writer asks.
``Take this map, it`s been with me for so long, take it and follow every instruction, ok?" the old man giving the writer an old map to the valley of death.
Does the writer get out of the cafe and into his disgusting flat and the sound of a baby crying and young mothers crying, arguments from nearly every neighbor in the flat and violent beatings and police sirens outside. The writer breathes heavily and makes his choice, `the valley of death it is` the writer speaks to himself.
He leaves this month`s rent on the table and leaves the flat and into his car and with the map as his guide he drives into nowhere and suddenly decides he feels like walking, decided to walk still following the map and not caring if he, somehow will end up dying a grizzly death. He walks following the map and then the map tells him to go into a forest/lane he walks into the forest/lane and it gets dark and through it at the end of this tunnel like the forest, find s an abandoned town, with dead trees and masses of human bones everywhere.
Broken down houses and he lets himself stay in one of the broken down houses, he wonders who built these houses if people have died from the curse, in this house he finds the dying mother and a baby, the mother does not want to live. The writer just stares and moves on to another room of his own. He takes off his clothes and puts something more pajamas like on he found in the house, a dead man`s clothes and with a red writers cloak he found as well, around him; he wants to die in something more comfortable that is all, rather than some rubbish jeans and shirt.
He goes out for a walk in the cursed town of the valley of death and he found it beautiful, with all the quietness and death, these things do not need cars or electricity or all the things that 21st-century people die for. He enjoyed this place, even though he knew it was killing him slowly and in 3 weeks` time he will be no more but the bones on the floor.
As days go by he feels weaker and his skin looks paler and even though he knew it was the curse of the place, he liked the feeling as if all the crap he had taken from life is being squeezed out of him, he liked it like a masochist. The writer lying down on the floor in a dead man`s clothes was more poetic to the writer than suicide.
"It feels good; it feels good, death feels good"
The baby starts to cry from the other room, the writer hates baby cries but a flow of sympathy somewhere came to him, the baby was crying probably from the curse of the place, the baby didn`t like the feeling of life being taken out of him. The writer got up and into the mother`s room, the mother is nearing to death and the baby looks pale and dying, the writer suddenly picks up the baby and runs out of the valley of death and into his car still parked and miraculously no one has tried to rob it or break in, the writer rushes the baby into society.
The baby turns out fine and his pale face turns back to normal and he goes back into his flat and the money he left for rent, he uses to buy baby milk and feed the baby. The writer's pale skin turns normal as well. With no rent to pay his landlord the writer gets kicked out and into the streets with the baby, he tries to get the baby in a foster care home but for some reason, they decline due to huge tremendous fund cuts and overcrowding in foster care homes, the reason being there are a lot of broken families.
The writer homeless with an unwanted baby, he decides to go back to the valley of death realizing for both of their sakes, the valley of death is the way to go and the baby would be better off dead instead of growing up in a struggling and fighting in a cruel horrendous world that nobody wants him. He sits down on the floor in his room in the valley of death and their skins go back to pale again and the baby starts to cry and the writer crying for the baby but he can`t do anything about it, the writer slowly closes his eyes feeling sleepy, life is being forced out of him. He gets awakened by a noise downstairs, feeling extremely weak and lifeless the baby he tried to look after is now dead. Carrying the dead baby with him and slowly walking downstairs to see who is making noise, crying emotionally and he sees in front of him downstairs demons socializing and laughing, the demons then look at the lifeless writer and with a dead baby in his arms, the demons take the dead baby to bury and they question the crying writer.
"What is your reason for being in the valley of death?" a demon questions the writer.
"Life, humans, these things we have to do and have to be, it's killing me" the crying writer replies.
"Life is hard for all of us, writer. You look like a writer." the demon guessing who he is.
The valley of death is a popular spot for demons as they like the atmosphere of the place and a demon places his hand on the writers forehead and senses the writers huge intelligence and wisdom, the demons starts talking to his fellow demon friends about the writers intelligence and how they can use him, then in English "humans, stupid humans they always torture the most intelligent one of them" the demon spoke.
The writer passes out and the demons pick him up and take him out of the valley of death and take him to a place, the effects of the valley of death is all over the writer now, it`s a bit too late but the demons know, where there is a valley death there will a valley of life. The writer wakes up in another town. This town looks more pleasant with life and beauty; the writer had never felt so alive before, the magic of this town is that it brings life to things and it is even more secret to the known world. Demons do not really like the valley of life, the effect of the atmosphere is not their cup of tea, they prefer death and suffering but for the writer's sake, they had sacrificed what they love for him. A demon went to the writer and explaining to him what had happened.
"You are useful to us, we need someone of your intelligence and skills to work for us" the demon spoke.
"I just want to die" the writer replied.
The demon nodding his head and disagreeing with the writer, trying to encourage him to work for them and help their demonic cause but the writer just didn`t want any part of it, in their satanic schemes and black magic. The writer demanding them to take him back to the valley of death, the demon again saying `no` then the writer gets something out of his pocket, something from the valley of death which isn`t allowed in the valley of life, stabbing him. Both magic from the valley of death and life collided and destroyed everyone in the valley of life and death and destroyed both towns, the valleys were no more. The demons there were also killed.
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