Her shadow flickered in the light which filtered down through a thousand trees. She stood in the forest of the forgotten, the lifeless trees stretched out in every direction, a graveyard for these skelital shells of wood which once bore life throughout this dark land. Before her was the tree of the damned, it screamed and groaned under the rain soaked sky,  its twisting roots buried deep in the ash soil, held between  life and death, longing to end the pain of its solitary existence. Reaching out, she picked a flower. She opened her hand and gave it to the wind. Its crimson flecked petals turned black in the foul air which circulated through her lungs. She closed her eyes and never opened them again.