They are the drug abusers, gang bangers and daredevils of the world, who chance death daily. For them life is a game to be played upon a board of corrupted purpose. Their spirits shine just as bright, but with a dark necrotic essence that permeates into the underbelly of the Dark Carnival, awakening an ancient being that lairs within its farthest depths. So horrific is this mighty beast that its true name has long been forgotten, only to be heard in the manic nightmares of the insane. Its eyes a brilliant spectacle of radiance, its claws ribbons of light, its skin shimmering with pulsating and ever-changing color, with a voice like the pull of madness. It moves with a surge of joyful purpose as it is always hungry, needing to feed off the necrotic energy of those who would flaunt with death.

      When the large beast has taken the scent of its prey, it then ascends from the utter darkness of the netherworld like a luminous star, clawing its way up into the mortal realm. Even with all its brilliance it moves unseen by human eyes, save for a shimmer of distorted space. As it draws close, its gait falls into rhythm with its victims’ still beating heart as its whispers begin to play upon their subconscious mind, inspiring them to partake in even more recklessness. In the minds eye, the fool can begin to see the beast’s wonderful colors, which create a euphoric sensation leaving them to believe anything is possible. It then draws up behind its prey with all its bright gargantuan horror at the apex of their foolhardy endeavor just before they are about to die. As it extends its gigantic claws outward from its victim there is a brief moment when they can perceive its presence. For them it is a moment of life curdling fear, their face twisting in a macabre mask as they attempt to turn to see its blinding form.

      So great is the fear that the victims heart skips a beat. It is in this lull of life that the great beast brings its claws together upon its victim in a great clap. Though no physical damage befalls the body, a very slight and sickening “pop” is heard as the victims soul simply implodes, winking out of existence. Like a puppet whose strings have been cut, their body becomes but an empty shell with eyes glazed over in a lifeless stare. For them, it is the great blackout. Where a millisecond ago there was sight, sound, sensation, taste and scent, there is now only the utter darkness of nothingness; a great eternal void of infinite non-existence from which one shall never return.

      Such a fragile thing, human existence, and so short lived. It is bestowed so that the soul can find true purpose. For those who would squander it away on reckless action…it will be watching. For those who would indulge in continually polluting their body with deadly poisons…it will come. For those who secretly yearn for death by continually putting themselves in harms way…it will hunt. Its true name has been forever lost upon the waking world but those few who know of its existence call him by the name forever etched upon their demented nightmares… The Mighty Death Pop!