Restless Dead

There exists a place at which time has faded into nonexistence. A vast plain of dust and rock. A city of the dead.

Wandering endlessly are the corpses who migrate there. Enemies of battle cast aside their differences to exist amongst one another for eternity in death. Their very purpose is null but to wallow forever in their own selfish despair, barely even aware of those around them, sharing the same pitiful existence. The plain is a sanctuary. A place of rest for the dead who cannot.

A hiding place, is the plain, for people who would evade the law. The dead have no concern with those who still draw breath, and as a place of much suspicion and unease, their home is rarely visited by those who have no reason to.

Once every millennium is born an individual with the gift to command these lost souls.

***

Here is the next painting for school. S'alright, yeah.

Few hours, PS CS5. Kind of inspired by Wolfgang Grasse.

Comment or die.