Ghosts were everywhere there. It was cold and white. I could not trust even the land I stood upon. I could not find an unharmed road to walk on. It was a vast expanse of land, cultivated to satisfy the appetite of the strong. Every inch of the soil was spoiled by blood. The air is full of ferociousness; you can inhale cruelty. I could not stay too long. It was like being jammed inside a freezing, narrow box. You could not move; you just crouched there searching for some light, trying to breathe properly.
I saw them, piled on the snow; towering to the sky; as if trying to make a ladder to escape the electric fence and the maschine guns. A tower of cadavers 800 meters above the sea.
I saw them, hasting in a centrifugal motion leaving the chimney of fire. They did not want to stay there, neither did I. But I could walk out through the gate alive, most of them could not.
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