Per 
My Bonnie lies over the ocean
My Bonnie lies over the sea
My Bonnie lies over the ocean
Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me…
Rot.
Everything had turned to rot.
The building which had contained the old man for countless years had been brought to ruin. He was finally free.
He ventured outside, unphased by the fallen walls of the Foundation.
The grass withered and died under his every step. The soil, so repulsed by this walking contagion, turned to dust.
He looked up at the sky then spread his arms out slowly, like a ragged old vulture preparing to descend on a carcass, and let the sun caress his slimy skin. It had been a long time since he had felt the gentle kiss of heat. He grinned, exposing his rancid teeth to the world. He let out a low, bubbling gurgle, which could only be interpreted as a chuckle.
He was free.
The Old Man was finally free.
He smiled his wicked smile, cackling as a foul belch of black bile worked its way up and out of his esophagus. It spewed from his mouth like water from a gargoyle perched on a cathedral. He fell to his knees, the ground beneath him turning into a festering bog of mucus and decay.
He was weak.
All those years spent trying to escape the boxes he was put in had taken their toll. He needed to recuperate somehow. He needed a place to rest. He needed to go home.
Not the cottage in the Scottish countryside he grew up in. Not the French asylum he had been stashed away in after the Great War. Not the musty containment chamber he had spent countless years in.
The hole.
The only place he had felt content. The only place he truly felt at home. The place where it had all begun. Home.
Bring back, bring back
Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me, to me
Bring back, bring back
Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me
He walked through fields so green and beautiful, leaving only twisted trees and dead grass in his wake.
He walked through cities so empty and silent, leaving only rust and decay in his path.
He walked so long his feet began to ache. He was tired. He was old. He was rotting away.
But he did not stop to rest. He needed to return to the hole.
Oh blow ye winds over the ocean
Oh blow ye winds over the sea
Oh blow ye winds over the ocean
and bring back my Bonnie to me
The trenches had changed quite a bit since he was last there. Nature had almost completely taken over the snaking paths and routes of the former warzone. Anyone else would have been lost in the wilderness it had become, but not him.
He dared not forget when his life became bliss.
He wandered the long-forgotten paths of the war, stopping every now and then as he came upon sections he remembered. Where Private Harris had taken a bullet to the leg. Where Sargeant Masterson contracted typhoid. He shut his eyes, letting the sounds of machine gun suppression fire and men screaming flood his memories.
Before long, he found himself in front of the hole.
Someone, presumably the Foundation, had taken it upon themselves to erect a steel door blocking access to the hole. But this was no matter. In time, everything would fall to his fetid plague.
He reached forward and placed his hand on the door. It started out slowly. It always did with this accursed metal. The grey color started to turn a sickly brown, a black mucus spread across its surface. Piece by bloody piece, it came apart, eventually rusting into nothing.
Finally, he was reunited with the hole.
He gazed into its infinite darkness, enthralled by the pitch-black void. He could hear the gentle drip of an unknown substance oozing within. Eager to revisit his genesis, he took a tentative step inside.
His foot was met with a cold, dense liquid. It sent shivers up his spine. He took another step inside, allowing the darkness to bathe over him. In an instant, it was all gone.
The outside world was no more. The only things that existed were him and the hole.
He laid down, allowing his slimy body to be coated by the present gunk. He smiled. The smile turned into raspy, wheezing laughter. The laughter echoed throughout the hole, filling the void with his hideous laughter.
He fell silent. The echoing stopped.
The Old Man burst into a familiar song, overjoyed to be reunited with the hole.
Bring back, bring back
Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me, to me
Bring back, bring back
Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me
