In the deepest corners of Louisiana, nestled among discarded relics in a dusty corner of a forgotten antique shop, lay an ancient vase—weathered by time and teeming with an eerie aura.

Its latest discoverer, a man named Thomas Savoy, stood transfixed by its presence. Thomas was a man disillusioned with the current state of his country. He yearned for a return to what he believed was America's pristine past—a golden age of prosperity, community, and dominance. Little did he know, his perception was steeped in darkness and ignorance, tinted by half-truths and historical amnesia.

Driven by his yearning, Thomas purchased the vase and brought it home. That night, as he wiped away the dust and grime, he inadvertently unleashed the malevolent force locked within. A cloud of thick, black smoke billowed out, coalescing into the form of a towering figure with piercing eyes and a sinister grin.

"I am Antietam, the granter of forbidden wishes," the figure declared, his voice reverberating through the room. "Your desires are laid bare before me, Thomas Savoy. Speak your wish, and it shall be granted."

Thomas, though startled, found himself unable to resist the temptation. "I wish for America to return to its former glory," he declared, his eyes gleaming with fervent zeal.

Antietam's grin widened. "As you wish," he intoned, and with a snap of his fingers, the world around Thomas warped and twisted.

When the smoke cleared, Thomas found himself standing in a familiar yet distorted version of his own city. The year was 1850. The streets were filled with grandeur and opulence, but they were also lined with the anguished faces of those who served under the yoke of oppression. Thomas’s once friendly neighbors were now overseers, and his coworkers, mere chattels, shackled and dehumanized. The air was thick with the cries of anguish and the scent of despair.

He wandered through the streets in a daze, trying to grasp the reality of what he had wished for. He saw families torn apart at auction blocks, and people of color subjected to unspeakable horrors. Native lands were being forcefully seized, and blood flowed freely from the countless massacres. The booming industries thrived on the broken backs of enslaved people, and all around him was the stark reality of his "glorious" past.

Thomas’s heart pounded in his chest. This was not the America he had imagined. His naive nostalgia had blinded him to the atrocities that had fueled the so-called prosperity. He rushed to confront Antietam, his mind reeling with horror. The malevolent genie materialized before him, his grin more malicious than ever.

"Is this what you wanted, Thomas?" Antietam taunted. "Your wish has brought you to the heart of your glorified past. A time of prosperity built on the suffering of countless souls."

Thomas fell to his knees, his world unraveling. "I didn't know," he whispered, tears streaming down his face. "I didn't understand."

"But now you do," Antietam sneered. "And there is no undoing a granted wish. This is your reality now."

The weight of his actions bore down on Thomas’s mind, fracturing his sanity. The reverence he once had for an illusory past crumbled under the truth of its brutality. He could no longer bear to witness the abominations around him, and the realization became an insurmountable burden.

For years, Thomas wandered as a shadow of his former self—unkempt, unrecognizable, and utterly broken. He became a homeless beggar, perpetually haunted by the specters of oppression and genocide. His pleas for help went unanswered, his penance for a wish made in ignorance.

Antietam revelled in the misery, feeding off the despair of his target. The genie thrived on granting the darkest desires of humanity, then turning those poisoned wishes back on their seekers, ensuring they suffered the consequences of their own malevolence or folly.

Thomas’s story became a cautionary tale, whispered by those who dared to listen. The sinister vase, with its demonic occupant, waited for the next lost soul to succumb to its allure, ready to twist their most depraved desires into a living nightmare.

And so, Thomas Savoy’s life, bound by his own misguided wish, served as a grim reminder: history, when seen through a lens of truth, is not to be tampered with or romanticized. For the past’s foundations are often laid in blood and tears, and those who seek to return to it may find themselves lost in a hell of their own making.