Oh, dear.
________________________________________________________________________________________
Something drips with a rhythm so deliberate it implies a source. It is the slow movement of an unholy metronome that resounds in the darkness, each droplet meeting the wet, the dark.
It whispers, like worms writhing through loamy soil. Your head throbs as if suspended upside down, yet you see no up and no down and no walls and no ground.
"[Leith]?" There is blood in your throat.
A chill runs down your spine, a primal instinctβ something stirs, a horizon appearing.
It waits.
With every step the shadows deepen, embracing you like a sea of unseen hands, carrying and caressing you with a touch like the breeze. Blood pearls on your skin.
It carries you forward into nothing, only deeper, into the wet, the dark.
It knows.
It welcomes.
It grants you passage.
Please, your lips shape the words without sound. I cannot take it.
It hungers still.
fooltofancy
2023-07-22 18:38:54 +0000 UTCAster
2023-07-21 21:28:09 +0000 UTCkingdom-dance
2023-07-21 19:49:50 +0000 UTCcinnerman
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2023-07-21 19:43:22 +0000 UTCckl
2023-07-21 19:39:26 +0000 UTChoneylou
2023-07-21 18:51:03 +0000 UTCMonaco
2023-07-21 18:39:59 +0000 UTC