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become only symbols for dreams, even if they don’t realize
            it. Still, such a doomed enterprise is not necessarily without
            its worth. There is wisdom in madness, just not the kind
            belonging to this world. It was that alien insight that Tom
            Hush, the eater of darkest secrets, worked through.
               While madness was busy endowing shadows with lungs,
            I couldn’t help but laugh at the passing sights. The wardens
            were  being  overtaken  by  the  manifest  infirmities  of  their
            wards. A fairly stout man, who likely possessed an infinite
            happiness only when cruelly exercising his limited authority,
            was being filled with locusts, and no small representation of
            the species, either. The faces he made as they turned him
            into a human hive were beyond hysterical. When they came
            bursting out of his mouth, flying away with chunks of his
            organs, I nearly burst open myself. But it was to the madness-
            repurposed custodian with the handgun that I was forced to
            direct  my strictest  attention.  He tried  to say something—
            which his new foot-long tusks made quite difficult—as my
            sister passed through the pipes of his throat. Likely, it was
            something terribly menacing passed along from the mind of
            Mr. Hush, but I had little time for an exchange of threats, as
            unfortunate as that was.
               My shoulder opened the way into an adjacent room, as
            the hallway before me had become complicated by a web of
            barbed and knotted flesh embellished with dripping spears
            and  hooks fashioned  from  the  bodies  of  once-wardens.
            Some of them were still  trying to push screams out of
            their red, clogged mouths—those who still possessed that
            particular  orifice,  at  any  rate.  The  Red  Dream  was  upon
            me again, engaged no doubt by my proximity to prey—my
            strength ignored the customs of its construction, allowing
            me to smash through the wall and circumnavigate the fleshy
            custodian-barrier with relative and enjoyable ease.
               I  couldn’t  help  but  chuckle  as  some  of  the  remaining
            wardens and a small group of garden-variety mad-persons
            took me for their savior, following my path, hoping I might
            174 | Mark Anzalone
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