Below The Dust

Below The Dust_by Florian Zenz

We waded through dust and madness for days. It oozes thick there, the dust, opaque, impenetrable, like the waters of a deadly swamp. We could never clearly see what we where stepping on, nor did we much care to know.

Then a descent into the dust began. When finally we dared to dive into the ground, we were met by an awesome sight. There was grass and trees, miraculous life below the dust, that time had long forgotten.

And amidst the reddish light this crater held a fortress in its center, high above an impossible mountain, only reachable by an impossible bridge.

Below The Dust

From The Swamp

From The Swamp_V3

Well they stabbed him but he wouldn’t die. So they tried hanging him. That didn’t do much either. Eventually the town came together to talk about what to do next while outside the fellow still hung and laughed at them through the window.

What did he do exactly?

Nobody knew really. People had just disappeared I think. And nobody could speak French either.

So what’d they do?

They took him out to the swamps. Threw him in where it’s really dark and nobody goes. But you see he still refused to die somehow. Catfish tried to eat him and then they couldn’t die either. And now sometimes he comes back.

Created for HTW Berlin Game Design (Character Design class). The task was to choose one of five character profiles: People who had disappeared in the mississipi river and then fused somehow with local wildlife (In this case a bunch of blue catfish).

Jaques Foucault. Stabbed 1768, thrown into the Mississipi. Came back.

From The Swamp