The yellow, withered stalks of grass growing out from between the wide cracks in asphalt creaked, bending and fracturing under the pressure of heavy footsteps. It was dark. The moon has arisen, the wind stilled and only from time to time silent wails came echoing from among the nearby trees.
The man, who left the railway behind a few hours ago it turned left, curled and melted into the forests, while he didn't yet plan on curling and melting at all - was now heading west, brooding and gathering his thoughts. Thinking and trying to remember.
He could vaguely recall dark stuffy boot of a car and three faces. The noose, the tree, laughing voices, smirking lips, and blood running cold in his veins just a few seconds before it run hot down his face. He remembered the pain and the moment when he stopped breathing. And that was all. Not too many memories to treasure, really.
But then the demon did once again take the cold silvery band out of his dirty pocket and absent