Finally arriving in the Black Forest, I felt a strong sense of relief - I had finally found the best hiding place in the extreme game of eldritch hide-and-seek. Once deep enough into the woods for proper concealment, I slowed my stride to a snail's pace so that I could fully appreciate the magnificence of my new home.
However, I was interrupted after roughly half-an-hour, for, to my great dismay, my old nemesis, the gas-masked death-god, had stayed behind while his cultists searched in France.
"We meet again, old friend," he greeted me with sinister undertones in his voice.
I elected not to respond, for I had nothing to say to the mongrel which stood before me.
"Oh come now," he continued, "be a sport, man. It wasn't that long ago when we would hunt together in this grand game of Fear."
I was on the cusp of responding, when suddenly, and to the surprise of both of us, my morlock friends arose from the ground, and the Rake, my close friend, lunged forth and drew his claws at the angel in the gas mask's face. Within seconds, the hackneyed mask was decimated, and the fallen angel collapsed to the ground, writhing in pain.
"Impossible. You can't kill me; I'm fucking Death itself," he gasped in complete shock, before he drew his final breath.
"You just got Rake't, son," I said sharply and presently, to which the gathered morlocks nodded in frank approval.
"Clever, bro," the Rake called out to me. "Unfortunately, we have to leave again, for the sounds of our digging will doubtless call great attention to this area."
And at that, the morlocks returned into their tunnels, while I drew further into the foreverdark woods.
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