“At the brink of nameless cliffs he stands: a statue in travertine, pale as the clouds above. He can see no colors of life, not the scarlet slashes of his own tattoos, not the putrefying shreds of his wrists where chains were ripped from his flesh. His eyes are as black as the storm-churned Aegean below, set in a face whiter than the foam that boils among the jagged rocks.
“Ashes, only ashes, despair, and the lash of winter rain: These are his wages for ten years’ service to the gods. Ashes and rot and decay, a cold and lonely death.
“His only dream now is of oblivion.”
This is an excerpt from God Of War, the book version, coming out everywhere (probably not, actually) 25 May. No seriously, I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried. At the very least, I’d have chucked that egregious colon and misplaced (and inconsistent!) initial capital in the second paragraph. Along with the rest of it, obviously. Or maybe I’d enter it into the Bulwer-Lytton contest.
I… I have nothing else to add, except perhaps that this is why I avoid novelised adaptations of games. Now excuse me while I go cry in the shower with The Iliad.
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