"Oh Martha please don't leave me like this". The man was weeping, sitting on his knees, with a woman in his arms. "I love you so much". Derek was standing right beside the man now. He was puzzled as to what was happening around and with him in that cemetery. The old man was a ghost, that he knew. This was some cruel set-up with the dead. After all his exploits, this was what fate had decided for him - a lesson for his deeds and a testimony of his actions.

The man got up suddenly as the woman disappeared into the mist. Tears were rolling down the man's cheeks and he appeared silent. For two minutes he just kept staring at the spot where the woman had been lying. Derek kept looking at the man.

"I love you, Martha", the man spoke softly, pulled himself up, dropped his hat down, turned, and started walking away. Derek looked closely at the spot where the woman had been lying. Slowly the ground beside the place started unearthing, forming a burial pit and a tombstone appeared just above the pit, which read Martha Andrews. It was when he heard the sound of cocking of a gun.

Derek turned towards the man. He was still walking away but now had a revolver on to his forehead. "NO!!", Derek screamed and got up; and then the man pulled the trigger. The gunshot sound echoed all over the place and Derek stopped. He could see the dark figure of the man and the blood spraying out of his skull. The gun slipped from his hands as he fell down on the ground and then there was absolute silence.

Derek was starting to perspire in this heavy cold. He heard the sound of unravelling of soil again. It was the space alongside Martha's grave. Again, an open and empty pit with a tombstone.

"You see that?", a voice asked slowly. Derek looked around in stupefaction. There was nobody around. "Who-who's that?", he called out.

"You see that?". Derek stopped. It was a heavy voice of a man which was coming from behind.

"What do you think what's happening to you?". The voice kept coming closer. Derek was quiet and had closed his palms into a fist.

"The very nature of human emotions can be so fascinating". He was now whispering into Derek's ears. "The feeble, faint hearts of good people... you see the pain, the suffering... they all get consumed.

"Ah, it's the divine beauty of death. Consumes all. Good or bad. Rich or poor. And then... you end up here. The resting place. The bridge between physical and spiritual world". Derek gulped.

"You know there's a sanctity - the sanctity of the deceased", the voice continued. It was when Derek suddenly started hearing numerous screams. Those were some horrific howls. The scream of pain; of penance. Derek was puzzled and was frantically gazing around himself. There was nobody around. The screams kept getting louder.

And then suddenly there was an explosion before his eyes. This explosion brought about huge walls of fire in front of him. It was like a big screen before him which had caught itself on fire. Derek trudged ahead slowly, trying to peer in closer. The painful cries in his ears were deafening him.

He could see numerous people within the rising flames. Those people were being burnt alive. The fire felt very real to Derek as he could sense the warmth closing in slowly. He could see the people running hands all over their bodies in pain. Their scalp was peeling off. Their skin was melting and Derek could smell it. The fire was consuming everything and even the eyes melted like wax in its unforgiving heat.

He was starting to get more and more petrified. Scared, Derek pushed himself back and got down on his knees. There were tears in his eyes. His arms were shaking at the terrible sight and then he started weeping. "Oh please! Oh Please! Please, I can't see it... No, please...". Derek closed his eyes, hid his face behind his shaking arms and crashed in front of him. His knees could barely hold him anymore. The shrieks were bewildering him. "Please make it stop!!", he screamed.