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Emotion 365: The Land of Terror, the Capitol of Panic

Vultures pick the bones of Terror. They cram their hooked beaks into the calcium. They claw at bones and scrape off strips of meat. Winds howl through the moonless night where nothing moves except to shiver. Mountains ring Terror and a deep moat filled with echoes. Marauders ravaged Terror in war after war. Raiders fight over unburied bones. The wind carries ragged last breaths.

“I beg you not to visit,” says the Guide. “I can take you there, but I cannot guarantee we would find our way out.”

The wild maze Panic winds uphill. Those lost in Terror end up in the midst of Panic's jagged edges. The many street signs point in all directions with a myriad of unintelligible symbols.

Terrified herds of squealing pigs and escaping gazelles and packs of feral dogs run through the streets looking for Castle Panic at the end of an unmarked street.

"From the tower there you can catch a breath and see an overview of the city and imagine you could find your way out," says Miss Doe Friend. "But I was lost again as soon as I descended into panic."

"We found it best to jump from the castle tower window," said Miss Emeline Traveler. "A gentle current rose to catch us and we floated off to Relief. Our tears evaporated in the wind, our hearts becalmed."

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