He was about to hit up a temple, find some top-notch shamans, and off them again, let their souls
scatter into the wind. He was pondering this when the driver in the front seat swung around.
“I can’t get to a temple, but hell’s available!”
The driver’s face started to melt, with chunks of flesh falling off, revealing white bone underneath.
“Ahh!”
Grant screamed, then felt nothing underneath him.
With a splash, he was back in the water.
Floating in the murky water hesitation that bloated corpse.
Freaked out, Grant struggled, swimming towards the shore. Behind him, it seemed like the corpse was
staring at him.
Grant felt guilty, thinking the stare was from Peyton. Scrambling onto shore, he found himself in the
wilderness.
The sky was gray, behind him was a green river shrouded in fog.
A bloated figure with wild hair was standing in the water, face obscured, seemingly glaring at him.
Grant sat on the ground, backing away.
The figure just stayed in the water, as if it couldn’t get closer.
Suddenly, an idea struck Grant: “Ha! You croaked in the water, so you can’t get out!”
After his laughter, he heard a scraping sound behind him.
At this point, Grant was on high alert.
Keeping an eye on the figure in the water, he turned in the direction of the noise.
Soon, he saw a road about ten steps away and a guy with a shovel digging something.
Thinking he’d found a living person, Grant quickly ran over and asked “Where am I?”
The digging guy didn’t respond, he just kept digging.
The closer Grant got, the more familiar the figure seemed.
As his memory resurfaced, he saw a person lying next to the man’s feet.
Half the guy’s head was smashed in, his face a bloody pulp, and only one eye remained, staring at
Grant.
“Once… once…”
The digging guy was mumbling to himself.
“You’ll lie under this road, trampled by people, crushed by cars, forever stuck in limbo!”
“That’s what you get for stealing my girl!”
“That’s your punishment for killing Abigail!”
“If you hadn’t come back and seduced her, why would she ever want to leave me and the kids? You
killed her! And you have the nerve to call me the murderer?” Hearing his own voice, Grant was scared
again.
“I must be dreaming!”
Backpedaling, he slapped himself hard: “Wake up, Grant! Wake the hell up!!”
Then he accidentally stepped into a puddle.
A second later, a foul smell enveloped him from behind.
“Honey… Come join me…”
Peyton’s voice echoed.
He could clearly feel Peyton climbing onto his back.
The sensation was very smooth and clear.
“No, I don’t want to die!” Grant tried to shake off whatever was on him; “You’re gone; I can’t join you!!”
“You’re my murderer!” Peyton’s hoarse voice screamed, “I gave you everything; even my daughter
abandoned me. Why!! Why?!”
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