The blind dog looked upon his people, watching them toil about endlessly. His exploration of this unseen hell was over. He was tired, dog tired.
The pile of wood kept getting bigger and bigger. The blind dog barked, ordering his people to keeping piling on the lumber.
Too long had they been in this land. Their marbles rolled off the deck and into the sea when the boat capsized. His former friends now regarded him as a god. The blind dog couldn't understand why they couldn't see. He just wanted escape. He told them it was time to burn god, and everyone obeyed. All the men and children stumbled around, exhausted, but still the blind dog barked.
After seventeen days, the blind dog surveyed the pile and saw that it was well. He climbed to the top and barked.
"Light the fire!"
His time in this land was done. Damn the explorations, it was time for quick escape. (The fire raged on.) The men and children began to scream. They thought they were burning god, but they were really just burning themselves. The blind dog continued to bark, but no one could hear him anymore. Everyone was dead to him. Blood flowed through the forest and through the dogs veins. There was no escape. His hands turned blue and he slept.
Pain had no sympathy.