𝕮𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖊𝖞 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sauntered_downward) wrote2019-08-20 08:13 pm
sauntered_downward) wrote2019-08-20 08:13 pminbox for ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
inthenight
inbox \@freddie1967
This is Anthony Crowley. You know what to do, do it with style. ▶
sauntered_downward) wrote2019-08-20 08:13 pm
inthenight
audio
Turning head to look around is impossible. Her neck is stiff, her hands, legs, face growing colder and colder every minute. She wants to speak- let her speak- but her voice fails her. All she can do is cough again. And again. And again.
Last time, she had Rakan next to her. She had his voice ringing in her ears. Now she has cold wind and sound of her own blood dripping everywhere, the rustle of the forest. She was cold for another few moments and then- it stopped. It stopped being cold, it stopped hurting. A numbness like no other overflowed her as she stared at the night sky.
He's not coming... no one is coming.
She's alone. She always was.
audio
Crowley stands, staring at his tablet. She's not responding. She's not responding and he has no idea where she is. She could be anywhere. She could be absolutely anywhere. He looks out to the darkness of the woods, where all of the vicious monsters are. She was out there for some reason, and now she's---
Well, now she's----
And the last thing they did was fight. Crowley didn't even get a chance to buy her a drink and tell her she was probably wrong.
He turns his head and looks out to the Lighthouse. This has to stop. He's going to stop it.