Entry tags:
Shrike's Heart (#4)
It's not quite a happy smile.
"I'm sorry," she says. "There's just nothing I can do, as things are. But the way is there; it just needs to be lit."
You open your mouth—maybe to say something, or to express confusion—but you have to cough, and taste something metallic, spattering black blood onto the ground in front of you. Then you realize—blood seeps from opening wounds in your arms, your chest, your stomach, your face. It rims your eyes and trails from your nose and you feel like you're dissolving—
—and you fall through the ground like it's the surface of a lake, and go down, down, down.
> Wake Up
no subject