The garden is not the monstrous jungle you had been expecting, but a beautiful place where plant life of every kind imaginable and some you had never heard of grows together, seeming somehow both wild and ordered. Butterflies fly around you as if in an eerie ballet. Even the light seems brighter here. It is a place of peace and contentment. Or it would be if it weren’t for the wizened old man, moving far faster than he should, who’s hacking away at you with a machete.

You desperately dive for cover beneath some bushes, soon followed by the gardener’s blade. He then begins to sing, in a deep but strangely serene voice:

“He thought he saw an Elephant,
That practised on a fife:
He looked again, and found it was
A letter from his wife.
‘At length I realise,’ he said,
‘The bitterness of Life!’ "

You’re running for your life, but you are far more frightened by the glimpses you catch of him reflected in the glass. You see a creature with a great many wings, bearing a flaming sword.