Corpses littered all over the forest floor, many leaning on trees or even hanging from branches. Most of them were covered in blood, and many had lost their body parts... some barely had any recognizable pieces larger than a finger or an eyeball left. The ground was scorched over, black in many places, red in most others, the original soft brown forest floor no longer visible.

Sharp reflections betrayed the presence of metals, pieces of them scattered here and there, while most were intact in the shape of long barrels with a handle behind them, commonly known as 'guns'. Holes were visible in the trees, many of their branches broken down to the last piece, many others scorched. Fires still raged on a few dry ones.

In one word, it was 'Hell'.

And yet, the sunshine shined brightly and cheerily on this macabre sight, as if rejoicing.

It was a Hell which no one knows the existence of, and yet naively think of as 'Heaven'.

A place, where you wouldn't know when you would drop dead, yet go around your days with joy, indifference, or disappointment. No heavy feelings of despair or terror here - they were much weaker, barely even touching the threshold of the true horrors the world offers to unsuspecting victims.

A man sat in the branches of a tree, his existence barely visible at high concentration - as if he would simply disappear any moment. He used a wet cloth to slowly wipe all the blood off his camouflage, his movements calm and natural, as if he were simply polishing his shoes a day in advance right before his normal life of an employee resumes. He slowly took out a sharp metal floss before getting the worst grime by cutting it off his suit.

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He then jumped to the ground, his lithe, silent movements completely unhindered by the additional forty kilograms on him, a pistol in one hand, a long, sharp knife in another.

'Come in, Captain Clades! I repeat, come in! Status report! Over!'

The man slowly extended his hand to his waist, where a handheld transceiver was attached. He brought it to his mouth, and a slightly deep, yet hoarse voice emerged from his mouth.

'Annihilated. Over.'

The transceiver went back to its place, and the man trudged out of the forest.

His movements looked lazy, but one look at his sharp, penetrating eyes, and anyone would know better.

Suddenly, his hand with the pistol shot up, and the pistol went of towards his left. A body tumbled off the tree and into the pile at its roots.

"That's the last of them," he muttered under his breath. A slight smile then came over his face, making him look like an handsome yet harmless brother next-door. "You'll have enough food for a while, ravens. And maybe you trees, too." His smile grew slightly darker, his countenance shifting to one resembling a devil from the deepest depths of hell. "After all, it's take over a week for any reinforcements, and the request for help didn't go out in the first place."

His footsteps on the soft soil slowly faded into the distance, and a terrifying laughter lingered behind.

"Wait for me, world, for I shall purify you."