The idea for this story came from this Southern Gospel Hymn –
The man stood at the gates, his mind whirling with thoughts of past deeds he’d done and those he wished he hadn’t. “Ain’t no time to question what I’ve done,” he said as he approached the rust gates, “What’s done is done, and now I need to pay!”
He viewed the area beyond the gate and thought
I am to blame, nobody else
. The wind howled but not a branch moved on the dead trees, and no sign of life was to be seen. Sure looks like Hell to me,” he muttered as he took a step through the gate.
The old mansion overlooked a dead land, life had gone from the area in times that were so far lost, nobody can recall the last time that anything moved across the ground, or flew in the air. Even the air he breathed seemed to be deathly, as he sighed, he saw a flicker in a room in the house, and a cracked voice called out “Welcome friend, this is your worst nightmare.”
With a laugh, Mark Johnson yelled back, “Ye, though I walk through the valley of death, I shall fear no evil. For I am the meanest son of a bitch in the valley, and this place comes nowhere close to my worst nightmare – you haven’t read my book Chronicles of Mark Johnson https://www.amazon.com/dp/B008BEDMSO . If you had read the books, you know I can be the meanest, badass son of a bitch you have come across, and I don’t need my swords, so bring it on, and see me take all you can give and give back three times as much. I’ve been to places in my mind that even I was scared to visit. I left my friends, my soul and any semblance of normality when I crossed over to fight the witch, and guess who is here now? Yeah, kickass Mark!”