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THE FEAR
Since the beginning of time it had stood. The tall twisted spire made entirely out of the bones of the dead. Many had come here through the centuries to destroy it, and what it meant to them. Over time, those who came here to the island with the twisted spire on it grew less and less. No one seemed to notice when the island seemed to be covered more and more with the bones of the dead. If one stood near the spire and listened, they could hear the screams of a thousand times a thousand souls screaming. As time forgot the island of bones and its' twisted spire, the screams of the souls drew more tortured souls in to die and make its' power grow. Over time, the sun seemed to shine less and less on the island until it ceased to shine altogether. Soon, even sailors began to avoid the area near the island due to strange feelings of being watched when they neared the island of bones. Far too often, a strange storm would form up near the island and suck in more unfortunate souls to add to its' collection. Those who found their way here were never found alive again. Their bones gone to increase the size of the island and its' twisted spire. The souls of those who have set foot here have gone to feed the island. The island can't be found on any map. Some say the island moves so as to catch those unfortunate souls that it can. Some say that when the dark clouds gather, and you feel you are being watched, that the twisted spire is calling you. Once you feel that call, you can be sure it is already too late. Your bones will go to help make the island bigger, while your soul goes to feed the twisted spire with its' eternal torment. Other times, the fog seems to close in on you. You can almost feel the bones crunching under your feet as you walk. And when you take a breath, it almost smells like death is near you. If you listen closely, you will hear the screams of a thousand times a thousand screaming souls wailing in torment as you near them. But then again, maybe you didn't feel the bones or smell the death. Maybe that was just the wind you heard, or maybe not!


TALES FROM THE DEPTHS OF LIMBO


DARK THOUGHTS OF PAIN AND SUFFERING


GAMES PLAYED IN LIMBO


FONTS USED IN LIMBO