Their susurrant voices call to me in a language I can’t understand, but the meaning is clear. I see their clawed fingers reaching out to me. The dirt walls of this pit are out of reach, but I can see them, see the twisted faces undulating just under their surface. I fall backward, flail my arms and legs, catch on nothing. The last thing I see is the head exploding into scarlet mist. The blank eyes lock on mine, and bloody tears start streaming down its cheeks. Its size is impossible-as tall as I am, white-pale skin stretching over bloodshot white-orb eyes and a mouth open so wide it could swallow me. I keep running.Ī face leaps out of the darkness, blocking my path. I know the voice, but I don’t want to know it. my God, when will it stop? It has to stop!Īnother scream.
It’s awful, and it goes on and on and on. A little girl, tortured-her soul ripped apart. I don’t want to hear, either, but I can’t help it. Agony spikes my legs with every step, but I can’t stop. I don’t even know how long I’ve been running.
I run so hard and fast, my breath scours my throat.
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