Is anyone else still recovering from the horror-fest that was last night’s Game of Thrones?
SPOILER ALERT: If you haven’t seen it yet, stop reading now and start psyching yourself up for an experience of sheer and utter dread.
The end of the episode featured 20 minutes of unadulterated White Walker terror that basically grabbed you by the soul with a vice-like, icy grip.
It wasn't quite the Red Wedding but it felt pretty damn close.
Up until the final ad break, things had been going fine. We caught up with Arya as she continued her lessons with the Many-Faced God, Daenerys and Tyrion bonded over a glass of wine and we found ourselves feeling unexpectedly sorry for Cersei who’s locked up but still spewing venom to everyone she encounters. So far, so GOT.
Then came the climax. Jon Snow, wearing his warmest looking shearling overcoat, led a team from the Night's Watch north of The Wall to rally support in the fight against the White Walkers. Then, just as they were packing up their fleet of boats to return, an ominous rumble and icy squall began to creep in from the distance.
Cue the most horrifying interlude of my life so far. We’re talking hundreds upon hundreds of terrifying White Walkers, maniacal, flesh-eating skeletons who make Harry Potter’s Death Eaters look like Care Bears. From my vantage point behind the sofa, I watched in horror as the nightmare just kept on coming. Dead children’s reanimated corpses, blood, guts, gore - you name it, this scene had it.
Just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, the ordeal was finally over and Jon Snow defeated a head honcho White Walker with his sword of Valyrian steel, shattering him into a thousand icy fragments. A muted triumph in the face of the sea of death that faced him and the Night’s Watch as they gloomily retreated from the shore, back to The Wall.
The credits rolled and I realised I hadn’t taken a breath for 20 minutes.
GOT fans – good luck sleeping again at night.
