Then those sharp knife-fingers are wrapping around my chin from behind – the ‘real me’, the one watching, and she’s jerking my face towards her and whispering. Telling me, this is what I can expect. And I can prevent it, if only I had the power. I think I must’ve forced myself awake, then. But not before I got a glimpse of her face. She was beautiful. Had this glow that stays with me. And throughout all the chaos and the blood and the gore, there she was, this vision of beauty and it was so wrong it makes me sick.
No Cowards
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