Anthology, my original works

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/60585586.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Character: Original Characters
Additional Tags: Fear, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Wolves, Ocean, Fire, Swords,
Metaphors, Poetry, Aftermath of Violence, Decapitation, Open to
Interpretation, Inspired by The Magnus Archives (Podcast), Body
Horror, Blood and Violence, References to Depression, Mental
Instability, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Implied/Referenced Domestic
Violence, Inspired by The Magnus Protocol (Podcast), Inspired by Rusty
Quill Gaming (Podcast), Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental
Breakdown, Blood Loss, Implied/Referenced Drowning, Destruction
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2025-01-29 Updated: 2025-06-25 Words: 10,641 Chapters:
28/?
 Anthology, my original works
by Unknown_Reality

Summary

My original works. Inspired, in part, by the Rusty Quill network - thank you for helping me
return to my roots in writing.
Please enjoy.
 Chapter 1
Chapter Summary

Inspired by the Magnus Protocol original soundtrack, The O.I.A.R./Bureaucracy,

composed by Sam Jones.
Also inspired by the Dark, the End, and the Desolation.

The hallway was pitch black. He stood there, leaning against the wall for support as blood
slowly seeped from the wound on his leg. His eyes wouldn't adjust, the darkness oppressing
every fiber of his being. It was like it had a mind of its own, sucking the life out of him
slowly. Effortlessly. The smell of iron filled his nostrils, mixed with the stagnant air of the
hallway.
He didn't know how long he was struggling to stay upright, time having no meaning in the
darkness. It was so cold.
Without warning, torches on either side of the walls began to flicker on, one by one,
illuminating the expanse. His eyes widened in fear—it went on forever. The ones behind him
flickered on individuality as if teasing him.
Each torch promised a light so far yet so close. The burning flames danced with each other in
synchronized movement. Were they laughing at him?
He took an agonizing step forward, gritting his teeth while using the wall for support. His
hand quickly became covered in ancient soot and dust, the sleeve of his jacket raking across
the stone. A movement far away shimmered across his vision, a shadow. A human-shaped
thing. Then it got closer when he blinked. Panic.
The sound of the fire nearly became consuming, like a chorus that was far too loud. They
were laughing at him. The figure blinked in and out as it got so close to him that he could feel
its breath on his face, the smell acrid like that of blood and rotting flesh. Its eyes were a deep
red that swirled with tints of black, its face marred. Decaying. The hallway went black again
as the torches went out, plummeting his world into darkness once more.
That's when the pain ripped through him. Something warm poured from his neck, his chest,
his eyes. A scream tore from his throat as a movement crawled up from inside him, almost
like a hand pulling itself up to freedom. His eyes rolled back as tears streamed down his face,
tongue pressed against the bottom of his mouth as the thing finally crawled past his lips.
A single torch blazed to life as the others awoke to greet the newest addition, its flame
illuminating a bright red pool on the wall and floor beneath it.
 Chapter 2
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the Hunt.

His eyes turned black as he lifted the bastard sword above his head, his hands glued to the
hilt with the blood of those he'd butchered. The person begged for mercy, for forgiveness...
but he didn't hear it. He only heard the sound of metal slicing through skin and bone like a
chorus of a waterfall. Calming. Invigorating. The head of his victim rolled along the ground
until it came to a halt on its side before their fellows, who were frozen in terror.
His eyes turned blacker still. With slow, deliberate steps, he took a swing that cleaved
through their necks. Soon more heads rolled. More blood splattered across the ground. Onto
him. So much blood had covered him that it barely made a difference. His skin pricked with
the dry blood encasing his entire form. Movement was calculated yet erratic as he dragged
the sword across the ground that was littered by the corpses of those he'd slaughtered.
He wanted more. He needed more. No one could stop him. No one dared defy him. All
anyone could do was flee and pray that they wouldn't become the next victim.
The darkness in his eyes grew impossibly more.
A large village came into sight, marred in his vision by splotches of black ink. Was it a
fabled city? He smirked.
The sound of his sword rang out like a warning bell as he dragged it on the concrete of the
road into the city, now with a new layer from those unfortunate enough to have been seen by
him. Everyone fled. There was no escape, as if he were an omen. An omen of darkness, of
death. Soon the city was silent, with the only sound that of rustling trees and animals
wandering freely. Everywhere he looked, there was blood, viscera, and sinew on walls and
splayed across houses.
The palace was the worst. Or the most beautiful. Within the inner sanctum, which was once
glamorous, elegant, and shining, now was littered with corpses. Blood. Faces contorted in
horror. Not even the nobles had survived.
He grinned impossibly wide. Laughing. It echoed throughout the halls out into the city. It
was just as he'd needed. He turned to the main gate and sauntered back into the wide world
for more. For something greater. For a fulfillment he couldn't reach. So he continued. Over
and over and over again.
When he laid eyes upon the most pure and beautiful person he'd ever seen, he had only one
thought. She fled. Her eyes shone not with fear but with regret. Sorrow. She couldn't help him
now. It was too late. She didn't want to be taken by the creature that had taken him.
No matter where she went, he found her. Bodies piling in her wake. One day she stopped
running and waited. Waited for the one who had destroyed everything.
Soon he was in the distance. Decaying. Walking. Spurred on by the darkness that had
overtaken him. She opened her arms to her sides and lifted her chin, eyes bright and brave.
Virtuous. Her flesh flawless and smooth. Unblemished.
 He stopped a small distance from her, gripping the sword with bloodied hands. His eyes
like a void, the ever-growing horror inside him having rotted him to the core. Recognition no
longer glimmering in his once bright, brown eyes.
Their dance would never end. They couldn't harm the other. Only those who got in the way.
They both knew he was the only one capable of that.
He took a step forward, and she took one back. Then, like the current of wind rippling in
the air, she left, leaving him once more to be alone. He knew he couldn't be saved.
And he didn't want to be.
 Chapter 3
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the Lonely.

It's better to openly express your disgust than to give someone hope. At least then the hurt
won't hurt so much.
It's better to abandon unexpectedly than lead someone to believe they ever mattered to you.
It's easier sometimes not to have answers, to be left wondering, "What did I do wrong?" At
least then the truth won't crush them.
It's better to be beaten down. At least you can get back up again stronger. To fight and
struggle and be torn down again. Only to get back up. To smile as blood runs down your face.
You won't give up. It's not in you. You won't forgive or forget. It's not in you.
You'll watch as the person tears themself apart. You'll watch with a smile. Indifferent. You'll
hear yet not listen as they beg for you to accept them back. You both know what will happen.
As your heart turns cold and you turn to walk away, you hear them begging for something.
Anything. To prove that they changed and want to...
You ignore them. You walk away. Then you hear them cursing you in the name of their God,
forsaking you in wrath and pledging revenge unto you. To break you more once they find the
strength to move.
You keep walking.
It's all the same.
God won't help them. And neither will you.
 Chapter 4
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the Lonely.

How bothersome.
The creature meandered and strayed, never staying in one place for long. If the creature got
too close with others, it would flee, abandoning the relationships it had built in favor of
solitude. Abandoning those who had learned to love and cherish it. Turning its back and
ignoring the wails of sorrow emanating from those who it had grown too close to. Who had
allowed itself to feel something for. It preferred isolation after all. It was built for it, to be
alone.
The creature limped through the tall brush, its leg covered in dry blood. It had fled once
more... but those who had learned to love it had learned to hate it—to have its head as a
trophy. They had become savage, a complete turn from their charade of kindness.
The creature lay prone in a dank cave, gripping a wound in its chest. It knew it was going to
die soon. No one would help it; no one would bother looking in its direction if they came
upon it. Not that anyone would bother trying to find it. Too long had it fled from the
possibility of laughter and friendship that no one bothered to try to get it to open its eyes.
So that night it stared up at the moon, eyes glistening in regret as tears sparkled in the
moonlight. As its own blood pooled around its weak form. It reached up to the sky with a
shaking hand, trying to grasp the moon for a semblance of familiarity. A cloud rolled over it,
plunging it into darkness. It slumped to the cold stone ground, drawing its last breath as it
died alone, having chosen to be alone out of fear.
Why had it not bothered to bother with even a glint of a meaningful life?
 Chapter 5
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the Web.

Try.
Such a short, simple word.
A word that bears so much meaning, so much weight behind three small letters in the English
lexicon.
Try.
It keeps hearts beating and minds ever learning. A little thing that forces improvement.
Discovery. Advancement. Creativity. A chance to rise.
Try.
It weaves bonds unable to be broken, memories unforgettable. Love an endless opportunity.
A form of expression. A chance to tell your story.
Try.
A challenge to not give up nor give in. A declaration of capabilities.
Try.
An excuse to destroy for the thrill. For the high. For the fame that could rot you to the core.
Try.
To shut yourself down, to choose not to feel the regret nor guilt as the blade in your tight grip
draws blood once more. The source? Unknown. The reason? Unknown.
Try.
To admit the reason behind why failure crushes you. Buries you. Smothers everything to the
deepest parts of yourself. The dirt in your eyes, mouth, and lungs. Blood. The filth that
permeates you. Hates you. Why must it be like this?
Try.
To run. To flee from everything you know, from everything you once knew. From everything
you willingly abandoned.
Try.
To abandon yourself. To give up. Will it work? Or will you give in to the pressure? Will you
rise? Or will you burn? Will you drown?
Try.
To stay strong even as the flames devour your flesh, even as screams tear from your lungs in
agony. As your skin sizzles and boils. Melts. To see the light as it surrounds you. To take the
hand of something you can't see but know is there.
Try.
To be different. To be true to your inner self. To never lose sight of your inner child and their
innocent joy. To be the one to help rather than hinder. To stand up. To respect yourself. To
respond with love, not hate. Kindness, not violence. Understanding, not judgment.
Try.
To cherish what you have while it lasts.

Her shaking hand set the quill down, eyes straining in the dark. The shadows danced against
the walls, casting reflections of creatures that didn't exist. Of another world beyond
comprehension. She raised her piercing green eyes to the window, the moon saying so much
but nothing at all.
 Chapter 6
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the Corruption and the Vast.

The fear was palpable like a breath in the still dead of winter. A shiver ran up her spine as
she stood frozen as an icicle save for the tremor of her bottom lip, her face dripping blood
from the gaping wound in her cheek. Was the thing that stood before her in her head? Was it a
dream? Would she wake up? The smell of rotten flesh and sulfur filled the air, infested her
lungs with such a putrid smell that made her want to throw up and sob and scream all at once.
But she couldn't move. Barely a single thought came to mind other than a single word - run.
Her breath hitched as the oxygen was pulled from her body, eyes widening so much it hurt.

Did it hurt? Did looking at the thing before her bring such agony that she could barely feel
it? The thing's claw, black as night and sharp as obsidian, raked across her forehead so
carefully it was as if it were caressing her skin like a mother would a newborn. Was it
studying her? Where it had touched so gently, almost affectionately if not for its menacing
aura, a river of blood spewed forth, nearly blinding her if not for rapid blinks. A terrified
scream bubbled inside her chest, slowly rising up her throat and into her mouth. Yet the only
sound was a pitiful whimper.

The thing cocked its head to the side curiously as its eyes flickered to her neck unhurriedly,
each movement taking more than a few seconds. It leaned forward little by little that time
itself had to catch up until its fangs were at her carotid pulse. It knew her heart pounded faster
than should be possible. It put a skeletal hand on her chest, pushing forward until ribs cracked
and blood splattered from her mouth. She didn't want to die like this. Why? What did she do
to deserve this?

With blood flowing freely that mingled with sweat and tears she wanted to die. Begged to
die with silent words. But no one was listening. No one had ever listened. The creature
paused, sunken eyes tortured by unknown torments rising to meet hers. Its head marred by
decay and filth, maggots crawled out of a hole in the severely cracked skull, its brain nothing
but a shriveled lump of... something. Was that understanding in its eyeless sockets? Or was it
her mind desperately trying to hold onto reality as her blood poured and poured to where the
stone beneath her feet was stained in red? She didn't know.

Finally she fell to their knees. Then on her side. Her elbow snapped on impact but she
didn't feel the pain. Nor could she move as the thing twisted and turned, brittle bones
cracking and realigning like countless twigs underfoot until it was again looking at her face,
its own upside down yet perfectly intact despite its terrifying visage. A single, blue eye stared
into hers. Had it been there before?
 Cold overtook her. It was almost peaceful now as she stared into the thing's seemingly
human eye. Had it been human? There was no way to ask. Not that it mattered. Her lungs had
been pierced by her ribs that were splintered mere seconds ago- how long ago was it again?
The eye became solemn, color changing to a host of different shades like a kaleidoscope.
Why was this thing comforting? It put a single, pale finger on her forehead and, in a voice
reminiscent of a breeze on an Autumn day in a forest, "Fear, I am. Fear, we are."

What happened next didn't matter to her. All she knew was that her body got up and
stretched, skin pale with blue veins circulating no blood to speak of. The thing looked at its
new host's hand, skin young, soft as silk. It raised its new eyes to the black sky, the horizon
twinkling with promise of a new day.

Fear knew no rest. Fear knew its curse all too well, to wander the earth eternally. Dying.
Killing. Feeling nothing.

It wanted to feel something again, so in the end it started to walk, lumbering steps unable to
be heard by those it didn't target while it meandered away from the pool of blood and viscera
that it left behind.

Let me feel something again. Why must you forsake me?

 Chapter 7
Chapter Summary

Inspired by the Extinction.

Inspired by the Magnus Protocol original soundtrack, Hilltop, composed by Sam Jones.

Everything was gone.

The beautiful hillside manor that I used to frequent was nothing more than dying embers
covered in layers of grey ash.
The sentry towers that had once stood for time immemorial had been reduced to rubble, the
soldiers' corpses buried under the stone.
The once rolling green hills that were as far as the eye could see were now brown and dry
from the heat, like straw in the open sun, coarse to the touch.
Not far from the ruined manor lay a village that was completely buried by water, some of its
inhabitants floating lifelessly with their backs to the sky.
Now a red hue, the water rippled gently around the corpses and the tops of the few buildings
that somehow had remained standing; deep under the water stood only the frames of the
homes.
Even the sky had a tint of black, the clouds shooting angry streaks of lightning every few
seconds.
The lightning was hungry, all-consuming as it struck the few trees that remained in the area to
set them alight.
It was hot, so hot that my skin and clothes were matted with sweat and tears.
Yet it was so cold that the sweat froze, forming ice crystals on my body that grew in size
before breaking off and falling to the charred ground.
I stood there, frozen. Hands balled into fists, brow knitted in terror and rage. I'd wanted
revenge upon my village, upon the world for treating me like less than garbage. It was like I
hadn't even been seen as human. So I'd prayed and begged and tried everything to make them
all pay, every last person in the world would suffer and die to save myself from the endless
cycle of pain and misery.
To my surprise, something had answered me. Something so powerful and profound that it
shook the Earth to its core and beyond into the stars that had gone into hiding.
I didn't realize I'd fallen to my knees, the scorching, dried dirt scalding my flesh. I didn't
know what to do. This destruction was everywhere I looked; even when I closed my eyes,
there was nothing but this obliteration. So I kept them open.
They stayed open for as long as possible. Then shifted slowly to a jagged piece of misshapen
metal a few feet from me, lying there on a silver platter for the taking. So I reached out and
took hold of it, every part of my mind telling me to let go as I heard my skin sizzle.
My hands raised it to my throat, the tip a mere few millimeters away from my jugular. I
couldn't feel my hands anymore. Arms moving on their own, the metal plunged into my
throat, and immediately blood splattered forth. The red sprayed onto the ground before me
before evaporating quickly only to leave reddish brown marks where it had once been
seconds ago.
The blood didn't stop. With a harsh yank, I pulled the metal harshly to the side to split open
my throat. The blood.. wasn't stopping. Why wasn't I dead yet? Why... why didn't I feel the
pain?
I tugged the metal out of my flesh and threw it as far as I could. The clang of metal on rock
reached my ears as it echoed over and over again.
Then the blood stopped. I wasn't dead. I-I wanted to be dead. I didn't want this. I never
wanted this. All of this was because of me. The complete and total annihilation of the world
was on my shoulders. My burden to carry until I died.
I could feel my skin patching itself together as seconds as long as an eternity ticked by. Tears,
now unaffected by the simultaneous extreme heat and cold, streamed down my blood-stained
face.
Why did it wish for this?
So I began to beg and pray and do everything I could to turn my mistake around.
I knew it was too late.
I knew I was the only one left.
 Chapter 8
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the Buried.

Love will make you rot. It is weakness incarnate. It will make your muscles atrophy and
bones splinter until there is nothing left but a massacred husk of an unrecognizable corpse
mauled by vicious, unfeeling predators. You will be buried by its lies, buried so deep within
the mangled sorrows of others that there will be no chance of escape, no one to save you from
the crushing weight of its deception. And once it is done with you... it will throw you away
and forget you for a new victim. Abandoning you, like it has with everyone else.
 Chapter 9
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the Buried.

Like a ship at sea, in the furthest place from land. That ship holds one person, the others long
dead and in the brig for use. Lost is the captain, lost are the souls he'd taken out of pity. The
captain's regret was always at the forefront of his mind as the salty air infested his lungs, his
blood, and his heart. The confusion as to why it had to happen to him, who'd done what he
could for the crew, only to fail in the end. So he ultimately sailed into the whirlpool, closing
his sunken red eyes as the waves pulled him under.
 Chapter 10
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the Dark.

The darkness looms like a cloud. Oppressive. Unyielding. An immovable object. As if

gravity were weighing down the world in a way that not one single thing could move.
Nothing could penetrate that darkness for an unspoken length of time. A day? Infinite
millennia? For time held no meaning here.
That was the way of the world until one small, barely noticeable glimmer appeared in the
deepest depths of the innermost sanctum of darkness. The light shone dimly at first.
One day it exploded into an impossibly large light, like a kaleidoscope magnified beyond the
limits of the human mind. An unstoppable force. The darkness fled into its sanctum where
the light had once been, releasing the light to be free. To hide in its own deepest shadows.
 Chapter 11
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the Desolation.

The night was frigid in the vast expanse of white. The surrounding trees were heavy laden
with snow, the branches drooping down more than would seem possible. The air was thick
with smoke that came from a single source in a small clearing, the fire struggling to survive
in the gentle fall of snow that glistened in the firelight. It was as if the fire itself was being
choked by the biting chill of the cold.
The fire did what it could to stay alight, attempting to reach out and take what little fuel was
available. While it crackled, it looked towards the stranger who sat huddled nearby, their
clothes ragged and torn. Filthy. The fire wondered what it was like to wear something, to
have a shape so uniform. The flames danced in curiosity as it lapped at the wood beneath it,
scanning the ground for more. But there was nothing. Nothing that it wanted. However, the
search was short-lived as the sound of something heavy hit the snow.
Suddenly there was a new source of food. The vine reached out a weakened limb and pulled
the heavy thing towards itself, spreading its tendrils across the new area until it had become
bigger. Brighter.
More hungry.
Its friend was huddled in the flames now. So comfortable and safe, skin warmer than it ever
had been. The fire smiled and sighed contentedly, a plume of smoke rising into the air.
 Chapter 12
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the Desolation.

Listen. Listen to the leaves as they rustle in the wind. To the songs of birds as they tell their
stories, we cannot understand. To the water on the lake surface as it ripples in its fated path.
To the animals as they trek to their destination, we did not earn the right to know.

Listen. Listen to the sounds of the village. To its people. To their many words, spoken and
silent. To the footsteps as the cobblestone continues to slowly crack. To the chiming of the
bell in the square.

Listen. Listen to the bloodcurdling screams. The mournful wails. The agony in the voices of
the injured who beg for help. To the crying children standing still, unsure of where to go. To
the shouts of the guards as they fight.

Listen. Listen to the clang of metal against metal. Metal tearing through flesh. Flesh is
destroyed by arrows of blue fire. To the fire as it crackles over skin, engulfing it in its
entirety. To the bones as they are broken. To the skulls as they are bashed in from the impact
of lethal weaponry. To the bodies as they fall, one after another. To the blood that flows freely
from the corpses that litter the cobblestone.

Listen. Listen to the entrance of the new ruler. Those who had survived fell to their knees in
terror. To the laughter of the ruler as they overlooked the handiwork of their warriors. To the
insanity in their eyes as they take in the beauty of chaos.

Destruction. Listen to it. Listen to the wisdom of those who survived and got away. Or rot
among the corpses of those who wouldn't leave its insatiable maw out of fear.
 Chapter 13
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the Spiral.

A small step over the edge. That's all it takes to snap. To break. To be torn apart and mauled
to shreds. To be the one who causes it. Is it fun to be the cause? Is it entertaining to cause
someone to break? To push someone so far over the brink that they fall deep. Like a drop into
a standing pool. A drop of red. Red that infests and changes forever.
It's disgusting, causing it and not batting an eye. Having no remorse or guilt for causing
someone to lose so much patience and become intolerant, then blaming them for it. To
pretend to be sorry only to do it again. And again. And again.
Are both wrong then?
Possibly.
 Chapter 14
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the Eye.

Their friendship was one of the strongest anyone in the small town had ever seen. Every day
the two would be side by side, whether it be in a massive field recently tilled for the sowing
of crops or outside the abandoned shack that everyone was too terrified to go explore. Yet it
didn't bother them. Rather, it was comforting. The smell of old timber walls and sight of worn
tapestry torn from years of neglect felt like home. A home they'd been denied. The small
stature of the younger friend was nothing to scoff at. Instead he had learned to embrace it, to
turn it into something better and more than himself. As his deep brown eyes met his friend's
impossibly orange ones, he smiled softly, leaning against her shoulder with a content sigh.

She wrapped an arm around his shoulder protectively. Lovingly. She knew how much he'd
been through, what the small town had done to him. The thin form of her friend said it all.
Weren't they supposed to be a unified community? With a furrowed brow she raised her head
while rubbing his arm soothingly, looking up at night sky and its countless stars. The moon
was bright that night, different from the usual darkness that normally drowned out the lights
of the town. It was nice.

"Say..." her friend started sheepishly, his hand gripping hers tightly, "I know how hard it
would be, and I understand that you have a lot here..." She noticed tension in his body that
wasn't there a few moments ago. How he wasn't looking her in the eye. She waited for him to
continue. "B-but I think we should run away together. Start a new life away from this stupid
town and reinvent ourselves. To be happy for once." She wasn't sure what to say. So with a
gentle smile, she patted his head soothingly, knowing it would calm him down at least a little
bit. With a sigh, she rested a finger under his chin and lifted his head so he was staring into
her eyes. Except he kept his gaze averted. Was he guilty of something?

"I've been thinking about it." She admitted with a playful smirk, tilting her head as her brown
hair moved with her. "And honestly?" She moved her head so he had to look at her, orange
eyes meeting his deep brown ones. "I would like that." His eyes lit up excitedly at the
prospect before hugging her tightly, his hair hiding his face as he cried happily. "There's a
town not far from here that would take better care of us. We should go there." She embraced
him and rested her chin on his head as she pulled him into her chest, never wanting to let this
moment end as his tears darkened her orange shirt. Just like every other moment with him,
she wanted him forever by her side, no matter what. Even if she had to sacrifice herself for
his happiness, she knew she'd do it. "I won't ever let you go." She whispered, trying to hold
back her own tears. "Not in a million years."
The onlookers shook their heads as they walked on, flashlights illuminating the trail before
them. That wiener dog had been obsessed with the pumpkin toy his previous owner had given
him before she'd died unexpectedly.
 Chapter 15
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the Vast.

Significance. A simple word that holds so much meaning in life, the in-between, and death.
Perhaps even after. One's significance can hold either the weight of the world or absolutely
nothing. Less than nothing. More than everything. So what does it mean? If one is the most
significantly powerful yet was given the least significant toss of the dice in the beginning of
life's game, does that make them less? Or more? Do their efforts, even beyond their best,
truly matter? Perhaps it's a state of mind. Perhaps a societal dictation is forced upon
individuals, whether or not they want it.

A simple musing.
 Chapter 16
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the Buried and the End.

What is this feeling? As the countless leaves rustle in the tree cover overhead, a single
beam of light from the sun breaks through the thick foliage for but a moment; the now-
illuminated speck of ground took in the sun like a sponge would water, taking it in so
desperately one may think it begging for meaning. Yet the sunlight soon faded and was once
more blocked by the leaves that now lay dormant. Were they mocking that small bit of earth,
pretending like it didn't exist just for the reaction it would give like it always had?

Something wet fell from the sky. Foliage fell in a vain attempt to get away, unaware that
their action had sealed their fate on the forest floor. Others stayed strong, holding onto their
branches and twigs until they too couldn't take the pressure—so they fell.

All the while, the blot of seemingly insignificant dirt watched on. It didn't seem bothered by
the downpour from the dark and cloudy sky. Didn't even mind the biting wind that tossed the
leaves around only to let them fall out once more. It felt at peace, even as booming sounds
came from the sky. The speck on the ground watched on, enraptured, as lightning bolted from
one side to the other. The light, however temporary, gave the patch of earth a new
understanding. As its roots were quenched in the downpour, it rustled in excitement. Then, it
reached up. Slowly but surely, what once was buried was no longer hidden by layers and
layers of earth and decomposition.

Finally, after years and years of pulling itself to the surface, the skeleton was able to free
itself to the world it knew before. Its empty sockets, cracked from the pressure of what felt
like infinite time underground, surveyed the area without moving. Its teeth, jagged regardless
of the few that were missing, were still stained with blood. It moved suddenly, its claw-like
hands pulling itself out of the earth that had kept it prisoner for so long.

Lightning boomed in its ears as it impossibly rose to its feet, an unseen force keeping it
together. The wind blew through its ribcage like a dance, welcoming its old friend back after
so much time apart. The creature stood still for but a few moments before taking a step
forward, enshrouded by the wind as it formed darkness like a cloak that sat loosely on its
shoulders. It took a pointless breath in and released it slowly, the surrounding trees
shuddering in anticipation as the skeleton walked. Picking up a branch, the creature morphed
the wood into a glaive, gripping it loosely.

It would have grinned if not for the lack of skin adorning its body. It was back, and the
world would soon know it.
 Chapter 17
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the Spiral.

Shut up. Just be quiet. Leave me alone.

The small cell got smaller. Or did it? Rust covered the bars of the window he couldn't reach.
Why did it have to be so far up? When was the last time he saw the sun? The rusted iron
cylinders were bent a little inwards; it was like they were mocking him, laughing at his
distress. The stone walls were cracked, covered in moss that seemed to grow from the floor.
His eyes widened as a creature came out of the shadows of the small stone prison, the corner
distorting as water would a well deep in the earth. No, this isn't real.

The creature stepped forward on taloned feet, steps impossibly slow. The blood that was
dripping from its maw as it hissed and screamed and wailed all at once caused heart began to
pound so fast he could barely think. The moment he blinked, the creature was so close to him
that he could feel its breath on his face; it was so cold that it made his skin prickle, pain
erupting from every nerve. Yet he couldn't move. The creature's black eye sockets seemed to
twinkle in dark amusement as it raised a single claw to the left part of his jaw, only to move it
excruciatingly steadily but surely to his chin. His skin split where it touched, blood pouring
onto the floor like a gutter in a flood.
 Chapter 18
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the End and the Lonely.

Stop asking. When will you just stop and give up? When will you stop bothering to bother?
You know nothing helps, yet you still keep trying to reach for something. It doesn't matter.
Just let the numbness overtake you like it has before - it's the only thing that understands.
You know no one else could possibly comprehend it like the numb cold does.
 Chapter 19
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the Stranger.

She lay there, staring up at the ceiling of the old building. Her eyes traced the cracks like
she had done countless times before. Some of them slithered, unmoving, from one side of the
ceiling to the other, smaller ones breaking off like deep roots of a tree. She had memorized it
all long ago, her once vibrant blue eyes now a dull grey. Raising a thin, shaky hand, a single
frail finger pointed at the lines and moved in a random direction to follow one. The sound of
rain bashing against the window grated at her ears, the glass shaking somewhat from the
impact. But she didn't mind too much.

Shuffling reached her ears from the doorway yet she paid it no mind. Instead, she stayed
still as her arm fell limply to her torso. With eyes now imperceptibly wider, she felt herself
freeze. The shuffling wasn't what she was used to, like a stranger. The lump in her throat
grew as she tried to swallow, her mouth dry as cotton without warning. The movement
continued as she saw something in the corner of her eye in the doorway, the smell of sulfur
filling her nose that went away quickly as it came. The hair on her skin stood up as a cold
breeze swept through the room, causing her to shiver as a chill ran down her spine. The
stranger moved closer, breath heavy and silent, controlled yet as if it had sprinted for
countless kilometers.

Next she knew, it was above her; was someone puppeteering it? It was floating like it was
on strings that were invisible. Its face emotionless and contorted, one eye dangling from the
blackened optic nerve as the other empty socket had nothing but darkness to speak of. It was
absolutely horrid yet so simple, the skin deep black yet grey yet so pale it reminded her of
death. What was going on? It leaned forward until its face was barely a few centimeters from
her own, rancid breath from the rotten flesh of what used to be its mouth, teeth yellowed
beyond what should be possible. The eye brushed against her cheek, leaving a trail of slime
in its wake. She tried to scream... yet nothing but a strangled whimper escaped her lips.

Her body shot up suddenly, breath ragged and drenched in sweat. Eyes darting around the
room, she took a deep breath and sighed in an effort to calm down. Of course it hadn't been
real. It was never real, would never be. Removing her blanket from her body, she set her feet
on the plush carpet only to go rigid. There, in the doorway, stood the thing. Watching her,
memorizing her movements and smelling her terror. Then it moved closer.

The shrill scream that erupted from her wasn't held back this time.
 Chapter 20
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the Vast and the Stranger.

My eyes fluttered open as the hot summer sun beat down on my prone form. How had I
gotten here? I involuntarily groaned while trying to move my stiff arms and legs, hearing a
few pops and cracks as I forced myself to sit up. The palms of my hands rested on pavement,
the rugged surface scraping at my tender skin. The world around me was a blurry range of
colors that worsened my headache as I put a hand against my forehead with a wince. Why
was my hand sticky? As I slowly pulled it back, I noticed a thin layer of red on my hand.
What?

After a few minutes, I finally willed myself to get up, my body sore from lack of movement
for how long I didn't know. With a sigh, I put a hand up to block the searing light of the sun
to find shade. My eyes widened slightly as I noticed something... strange. Thinking it was my
imagination, I shook my head and limped to the nearest house, resisting the urge to wipe my
hands on my jogging pants; I knew I could very well infect the wounds on my palms if I did
it, and that wasn't on my list of things I intended on letting happen. Once I got up to the
porch, I took a breath, knocked on the door, and waited. And waited. Sweat poured down my
back and temples. The sun was still so high in the sky that I could see the heat rising from the
pavement and rooftops. With yet another deep sigh, I made my way over to the opposite
house. Knocked a few times, waited... nothing. Was no one home?

I went to so many houses, and no one answered. There was no doubt in my mind that it had
been a few hours at least. Despite that, the sun didn't move. Even the few clouds that were
like wisps were stagnant, surrounded by the sharp blue of the sky above. Exhaustion filled
me to my core as I shuffled on the road, dragging my feet. Mouth parched from dehydration,
stomach growling from lack of food, I forged onward. The houses never seemed to end on
this street, like someone had copy and pasted the same thing over and over again.

At the next house, I decided to break down the door with a shovel on the lawn. It was then
that it dawned on me—there was one in every yard. As I looked down at the tool in my hand,
panic began to set in. Furrowing my brow, I pulled my arms back and, with a tight grip,
struck the lock. It broke easily. Too easily. Where was law enforcement in this area? If there
was, would I get in legal trouble for breaking and entering? Without thinking, I dropped the
shovel and rammed the door with my shoulder, opening it with a loud crack. The shade was
immediate, the cool air hitting me like a tidal wave. As I breathed in a sigh of relief, I
scanned the room as carefully as I could, attempting to take note of anything suspicious as I
stepped further inside. My eyes landed on the kitchen sink, and, without much thought, I
went over and turned it on. Nothing. Nothing... with a frustrated groan, I made my way
through the single-story house to find a bathroom. Eventually, I did. For whatever reason, the
water worked, albeit barely. Despite the risks, I rinsed my hands of the dried blood that had
mixed with sweat and grime, leaving my palms tender yet at the very least less likely to
become infected.

As my eyes lifted to the mirror, I was expecting something, or someone, to be standing

behind me like so many horror stories. There was nothing but silence in the empty room, the
light casting an eerie and unsettling atmosphere. Tentatively, I leaned down and began to
drink from the tap, my mouth and throat so dry that it hurt to swallow. Yet the more I had, the
more I wanted. I let myself have too much, my stomach full before I made myself pull away.
As I wiped my lips with the back of a hand, I straightened my back and looked myself in the
eyes, my normal blue full of the same determination I recognized from my entire life up until
this point. Yet now, as I stared, I saw something new—fear.

Breaking eye contact with myself, I tried to pry the mirror open to test if it was a medical
cabinet. To my relief, it was gauze, bandages, a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide, a needle
and medical thread in a small rectangular container, and even triple antibiotics, all neatly
stacked on the shelves. It was almost an entire medical kit. What made me hesitate, even with
the all-too-convenient supplies, was the sunscreen. Someone had to live here, and if they
didn't anymore, then surely they knew how horrid the neighborhood was. Hoping the person
wasn't coming back, I wrapped my hands in bandages after applying peroxide and then the
antibiotic, opened the fanny pack on my belt, and put it all inside it. At least now I had
something to work with if I got hurt.

A feeling of dread washed over me as I went back into the hallway, an oppressive feeling
weighing me down. Was something about to happen? I hurried my pace as I rummaged
through the house for anything useful, picking up a few empty water bottles and attaching
them to my belt. I found a sun hat that I donned, then filled the bottles before hastily leaving
and shutting the obviously damaged door behind me. The feeling of wrongness amplified as I
quickly got as far away as possible, my heart racing like I had run a marathon. I knew what
this feeling was all too well—it was the feeling of countless, unseen eyes watching my every
movement, every breath. I began to run. Panic crawled into my core after breaking through
bone and tissue, adrenaline rushing through my being as my breath came in rapid pants.

It was then that I realized how wrong everything was. Every house, every yard, down to the
placement of the shovel on the clearly dying grass to the rusty sprinkler, were all exactly the
same. Would the inside of all the houses be too? Or would the next one I broke into have
something in there I couldn't fathom its danger? I knew paranoia and how it felt. This was
beyond that, an indescribable feeling that I wouldn't wish on anyone. Then it happened. A
flash of black on the street far ahead of me. It was like a shadow except for the fact it was
still high noon. I knew what I saw. So I stopped in my tracks and sunk into a defensive stance
that allowed me to run if necessary. Another flash of black, closer this time. It looked
human... almost. Then a pain like nothing I'd ever experienced shot through my back as a set
of three claws raked down my spine, ripping through my flesh like a hot knife through warm
butter. I couldn't stop the shriek of agony that ripped past my lips and into the air. Gripping
the shovel I'd taken from one of the yards, I took a wild swing as I stumbled away from the
unseen attacker. Another bolt of molten hot pain on my left arm this time, blood gushing
from the wound of three claws. Tears streamed down my face as I did everything in my
power to ward off my attacker. But it wasn't enough. Pain like nothing I'd ever felt once more
went through me as I fell to a knee; I couldn't stand, as my Achilles tendon had been slashed
on my right leg. I sobbed and swung with my uninjured arm, screaming as three fingers were
separated from my hand. My vision splintered from blood loss, my body shaking as I began
to grow cold.

I was slumped on my side before I could recognize I'd done so. The pain subsided quickly as
I went numb, not lucid enough to feel three more claws plunge themselves into my stomach.
It was at that moment I finally saw the creature's face; it was surprisingly human, with skin so
dark it reminded me of a night sky, its lips curled into an almost imperceptible frown, and its
eyes... a red so sinister it could stare into my soul and tear out my deepest secrets with ease.
That's when I gave in, eyes fluttering shut for the last time.
 Chapter 21
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the Spiral and the Desolation.

My world was just like any other. Get up, go to work, come home.

My mornings were full of pain on any given day. Try to keep my head down as I pass my
partner's room, keep as quiet as I possibly can as I make my way to the kitchen and towards
the door to get out. Then my partner's voice stops me, like a punch to the gut after intensive
surgery. Their shouts glass shards as they stabbed my fragile mental state like a crazed killer,
intent on doing as much damage as possible in as little time as possible. Had I forgotten
something? Had I messed up again according to them? Felt my lower lip break as my head
was forcibly turned to the side, my body falling to the impossibly clean floor that I'd worked
on the night before. I wanted to leave... to run away as far away as I could. But my partner
found me every time. How they did it I couldn't figure out, they were able to track me down
like a blood hound in human form. So I stayed on the floor, remaining quiet as they angrily
kicked me in the side, the sound of a rib cracking reaching my ears, though the pain didn't
register. It had stopped long ago, the feeling of pain - it had turned into numbness, my mind
caving in on itself to protect itself. Why? Why would no one believe me when I told them
about my sham of a relationship?

Work was the same, if not worse. I couldn't do as much as usual with my broken rib, lifting
much more difficult. However, I pushed through it. Cried in the bathroom as my boss had
screamed at me for the umpteenth time for nothing. Was it nothing? Or was I doing that
badly? Looked myself in the mirror, once bright green eyes dulled by the sands of time.
Would it be worth it to leave, to forget everything? A few coworkers came into the bathroom,
walking past me like I didn't exist. Despite my position as the coordinator, no one cared. No
one listened. I was a joke. My heart would have sunk at the sound of the few people in the
bathroom obviously snickering at me, shooting me hateful glares that could kill me if they
were capable of it. After a few more moments, I returned to my area of work, only to find the
usual mess. A mess caused by those who wished me harm here; in the past, I'd found pins and
needles among the paperwork, deliberately placed to sink into my palms before I knew it.
Even the cushion had broken glass in the seat once, though I'd caught it in time. Inside my
pocket, my hand grasped the cigarette lighter tightly. It would be so easy to burn it all,
starting with my things. No one would care after all. Why not burn everything else too?
Wouldn't that make them happier not to have to come back? Cocked my head to the side,
knowing I'd already tampered with the smoke detectors so they wouldn't work. Just one little
spark is all it would take... a tempting idea that gnawed at my insides like a rat chewing
through flesh to escape a hot prison.
 Next I knew, I was walking calmly out of a burning building, my memory hazy of what had
transpired mere moments ago. It didn't bother me that no one had followed me out, that there
were no screams of terror coming from the inside. Easily I blended into the growing crowd as
firetrucks showed up a minute or so later, the blaze already causing plumes of smoke to rise
high in the afternoon sky. As I walked with my chin up, exuding confidence I hadn't felt in
years, I felt oddly good. At ease. Paused at the outskirts of the crowd as a police force held
them back, the inferno unending, and watched with detached interest. What had caused it?
How had I even gotten out unscathed? Pulled a hand from my pocket and looked at the small
lighter my mother had given me before she had been murdered unexpectedly. It was always
something to calm me when I was sad... at least, when I still let myself feel such a thing.

A few hours later and I was back home, bathing in my bathtub I'd not used in years. The
porcelain was still immaculate, the scent of lavender and vanilla wafting through the air. I
helped put my partner to sleep today - it hadn't been as difficult as I'd thought. I'd even left
their favorite pillow in the basement where they were sleeping, surrounded by warm dirt I'd
thoroughly packed onto their body, pillow over their face. I closed my eyes and sighed,
picturing their serene face just above the dirt. They wouldn't want to hurt me again surely,
especially not after I'd done so much to ensure their maximum comfort. Maybe I should put
in some concrete too, and make a plaster mask while they slept so peacefully. Surely they'd
enjoy it once they woke up. Perhaps we'd be happier too. They'd always liked wearing masks
after all.

As I rose to my feet and stepped out of the tub towards the mirror, I paused. My eyes
weren't as dull as before. What had I done differently? It was like I was a different person,
someone who had been hiding for years underneath layers of earth and rock, buried by
countless years of decay. As I placed a hand on the mirror and stared, the smallest smile
formed.

I liked this new person.

 Chapter 22
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the Slaughter.

The night was pitch black save for the dancing flames of the village that was burning to the
ground. The twins struggled to run, to make it out of the inferno before they too were set
alight. They could hear the screams of agony, the countless riders as they circled the
perimeter to kill anyone trying to escape. So they played dead as a group passed only to run
as fast and as far as they could. But it didn't matter. Two arrows for the two twins hit their
targets, and they both fell at the same time, blood seeping from the wounds in their chests
where the arrows made their marks—their hearts. As their worlds faded into darkness, they
held each other's hands, dying together, grateful to be with each other in their last moments.

Yet, somehow, one of the twins survived.

The boy had been resurrected from the brink of death. Realizing his twin had died unjustly,
he slaughtered the people who had slaughtered his village, sparing no one. He didn't care that
the arrow was still lodged in his chest, that his heart was no longer beating, that he wasn't
alive. His purpose was to avenge his twin. And when he did so, finally, he...

He couldn't stop the slaughter he'd grown addicted to. So he continued, continued as he killed
his mother and father, who had escaped his village and left him and his brother behind. Who
begged to be spared from death even as he slit their throats with the now-rusty arrow that had
killed his brother, his gaze empty yet full of bloodlust. He killed an innocent tribe. An entire
city. He simply... couldn't die. And no longer felt a thing.

As time became inconsequential, he'd lost himself completely. He couldn't be stopped as the
arrow remained for centuries in his heart, a constant reminder of his loss of his twin. Then
one day, as he yet again began to slaughter a village, he stopped. Before him was a pair of
twin girls, holding each other in terror as tears streaked down their faces. It was that moment
he realized his folly, how no matter how many people he'd killed, he couldn't bring his twin
back. Still standing before the twin girls, he pulled the arrow from his heart, freedom taking
him before he dissipated into nothing, his soul at last joining his twin in the afterlife.
 Chapter 23
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the Vast.

What is the point in all this? There's so much out there that you'll never see, never know. No
matter how hard you try, you'll be disappointed. So, then, just recede into your own world.
Pretend like everything is okay and everything is fine. Act like you're happy, laugh and smile
and don your mask. That's all you're good for. Then, when you're finally alone, you can go
into your own world. Disconnect.
The disconnection will be addictive. Next thing you know, you'll be separated from
everything, even though the real world will still exist. But it won't be worth it. You're happier
in your own world, aren't you? It's easier there, isn't it? So why not just take the plunge and
remain there? It's not like you'll be missed. It's not like anyone will look for you. They should
be happy that you're in the world of your own creation. They'll be jealous that they're unable
to achieve such an impressive feat.
Ultimately, you're safe there, in your own world. No one can hurt you. So just stay. Stay
with us, with yourself. For yourself. Join the countless worlds, be part of something bigger
than yourself that won't ever let a negative thing come to pass. Just let it all go, give up on the
reality you knew and... close your eyes. It won't hurt you. So take a deep breath and
disconnect.
 Chapter 24
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the Web.

Come closer.

Closer.

Take my hand.

It's okay.

I won't hurt you.

It can't hurt you.

Are you hurting?

We can help you with that.

Just take my hand.

Do you doubt my sincerity?

Do you mistrust my need, desire, and capacity to help you?

Oh, I see.

You're scared of me.

Uncertain.

That's perfectly understandable.

We've had plenty of travelers like you.

Take my hand.

I see you've gotten closer, even just a hair closer.

That's good.

You're doing so well.

Trust me.

I won't hurt you.

None of us will.

I notice you've relaxed a little.

That's good progress.

Come inside, and take my hand.

What was that?

You're frightened?

Don't fret.

It'll be all over before you know it.

Just one more step.

You're so close.

Well done.

Now, you'll know happiness and belonging like you've never dreamed.

The best part?

You can't leave even if you wanted to.

Luckily for you, that'll never be a thought in your mind.

Because now, you're one of us.

And we won't let you go.

 Chapter 25
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the End.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

You never know when it'll strike. It comes in many forms, countless names. Innumerable
different ways, all to the same end.
No one can hide from it.
No one can fight against it and win.
So, in the end, we accept our fate, whether or not we want to.
The reason?
Well, there is none. Because we have no other choice.
Death. The greatest gift bestowed upon life. If there were no end, then how could we possibly
begin anew?
Many don't understand the importance of accepting death with grace, even it's not you being
directly affected.
It's... difficult. Accepting death as a means to a new beginning. Without it, we'd be nothing
but walking carcasses, unable to die.
It would be Hell on Earth.
But that doesn't make it any easier.
So, you learn how to make the best of it. How to see death as not something to be feared, but
to be honored.
As much as it hurts, you learn that, though it never gets easier to let someone or something
important to you go, you learn how to handle the news of death better over time. Because
that's the only choice you have.

Chapter End Notes

Also, inspiration from the sudden death of a loved one. You will be missed and
cherished, always.
 Chapter 26
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the Spiral and the Lonely.

Another brick in the wall. It's disgusting how you let yourself have hope for friendship. For
freedom. It's embarrassing to think that, despite your need for connection, you'll have a
chance at something better.
It's so easy for people to turn their backs on you over nothing. A fickle, pointless thing turns
into yet another brick.
You wonder why you're so alone, so desperate for understanding that you make excuses to
brush aside how people treat you.
You begin to hate yourself. You begin to crush yourself in the process of feeling less to
protect who you think you are. But who are you really?
So give up on expecting to have people in your life. Maybe one or two, but how long will
they last? Will you push them away like everyone else in the delusion of self-protection?
Because you want desperately to not be disappointed again... is it worth it? Is anything?
You try to be authentic only for people to burn it with scalding embers, singeing you with
their own self-hatred. Affecting you in ways that shouldn't hurt so much but do. And they
don't care. So why do you?
So put another brick in the wall. And another. Build it so high, higher than it already is in its
grandiose, distorted glory, until you're barred from anyone and everyone. Even yourself.
In the end... are you worth it? Will you separate yourself from yourself to save what little
hope you have? Or will you simply... give up. Again.
Build the wall. Stop letting it hurt so much. Spiral into the world of indifference. It'll save
you from yourself, and stack a new wall between indifference and hope.
Why? Because you can barely afford hope anymore.
 Chapter 27
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the Spiral and the Lonely.

Faith. It's so difficult to build. Whether it be for a person, for yourself, a belief system or
lack thereof. It can take years to develop, one small step at a time. To try so hard to have faith
in something... only to have it be torn apart by a few small, seemingly innocent words or
events.
Hope. Something we all crave, we all need to a point for something to hold onto. A
reminder to not give up on something we believe in, to keep trying, no matter how much it
hurts. Is it worth it in the end? It's a mirage ultimately, meant to blind you. To make you think
there's an ideal to desperately cling to. Yet one little comment can destroy it.
Expectation. A toxic thing really. It makes you think that things are worth fighting for. That
it'll get better. That finally, after everything you've endured, you'll be able to look at it and
know that the expectation was worth it. But it never is. It's a disappointment. It's a siren call,
a lure that whispers sweet nothings. Then it bites - hard. The poison will flow through your
veins until you're crying and wailing and begging for... for hope, for something to believe in.
It breaks you. It kills parts of you until you're numb. Or, at least, until you think you are.
Then it happens again and again. A waste of time, of life, and emotional energy. It's best to
just let yourself have no expectations so you're not disappointed when people betray you.
Because that's all they're good for; pretending like they care, only to claw at your misplaced
hope and faith in them until you're nothing but a mangled corpse. They won't ever see your
tears though, you're too stubborn to let the betrayer see them.
Betrayal. So simple. It can take any form, any words, anything. It's a horrid thing, to be
crushed. To try so hard to allow yourself to be open enough to form a relationship, only to
have your hope of being accepted dashed by a selfish bastard with no pride nor respect for
you. You hold back the tears as they look at you with such hatred that your skin crawls, yet
you hold it together. Even if you're not looking at the person, you feel their rage, the darkness
radiating off them like a pitch black aura. It can be terrifying, to know someone feels that
way. Did you know that person at all? Surely it was an act on their part, a farce to put you
under a false sense of security. Then you say something without thought, under the
impression that you can be yourself, only for them to show who they really are - a monster, a
fake, someone who has no issue with taking you down with them.
So you go home, or somewhere private, and you cry. Because you can't let anyone see just
how broken you are. How your faith, hope, and expectations for a better life and a better
future are poison that are slowly killing you. You wonder how many times you'll get up
before you give up. It's not worth it anymore. Yet that small part of you will make you get up
and try again, only to fail you in the end.
 Chapter 28
Chapter Summary

Inspiration from the Eye.

The child didn't understand why she'd been left in the forest, all alone. Was it because of a
mistake, a wrong turn as she trailed behind the others? Or had something in the forest called
to her, promising sweet nothings to lure her from safety? Now she stood in the rain, a harsh
gale whipping across her face as she desperately tried to find shelter. Anywhere she looked, a
creature was there, snarling. And every time she was forced back into the ice-cold downpour.
No one was going to look for her, her tears masked by the steady stream of water cascading
down her face. She fell asleep there, terrified of what could happen. And she was right. She
woke up to a shooting pain in her side, her arm, and her leg. She realized she was being eaten
alive by starving wolves. The last thing she felt was terror as a wolf bit into her jugular.
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