3
Museo del Prado, Madrid, Spain.
An army of skeletons overran the last of the living. They slaughtered the remnant of humanity with scythes and swords, drowning them, hanging them, carving them up. Two bony warriors rang a huge bell, tolling the death knell of the world as a haze of smoke burned across the ravaged, blackened land.
Morgan Sierra stared into Bruegel’s Triumph of Death, wondering at how the Dutch painter had managed to capture his apocalyptic nightmare onto such a large canvas. How could he bear to turn his imagination into reality when it meant facing the horror anew every day, preserving it for all to behold. Morgan didn’t think she could face her own nightmares like this. She had seen demons emerge from the Gates of Hell, the scar on her side throbbed from the fight in
