“May the bombs rain down upon us child for one does not know the mistakes of those before us in the fallout to come...young arthur ''. Radioactive ashe slowly falls from the sky in dark flakes dancing down from the sky past the window while the man watches on “oh...the screams...the screams...dear arthur”. The old man says with a husk of a child deformed and obscene from what he once used to be “remnants…...have been……456...780” a female russian voice says from the television fading from his memory. “I feel your pain...arthur…” he says hugging the dead body to his chest “i feel it too arthur…..” he says as his hand tingles feeling like it was being slowly cooked like a steak. “Take a bite...it won't do you no harm” a voice behind his mind urks him so, “no...no...no…” he repeats to himself holding the temple of god on each side of his head. “ARTHUR” he yells but only to himself within a dark broken “let go....free your self” the voice whispers even more “you feel it now….dont you”?. The old man slowly lays on the ground shaking and screaming with a one last whimper of life escaping his last breath. The dead body of the boy writhes with its pitch black eyes looking at his father with no expression one last time.