He’s mewling in agony as a throng of bodies slowly descends on him. A few drops of blood drip from my fingers into the mass below and as one they raise their heads to me, mouths wet and smeared red.They stumble to the wall and scrape their fingers against the stone, their nails cracking and skin shredding as they push against a wall that I know in my heart can’t hold them back forever.A few more stumble from the darkness. They tumble around each other, try to crawl over one another. And all of them stare up at me with milky blue eyes. Their mouths open. Their fingers reaching for me. As if I’m the only one who can save them.I force myself away, slap my hands over my ears and shake my head, but I can still hear them. The sound is everywhere.Tentatively, I reach up to my head and run my fingers over the ragged edges of what’s left of my once-long hair. The cold night air feels strange against the back of my ears and neck, my face too exposed without the curtain of my bangs. I gather handfuls of snow, using it to numb the throbbing pain of my scalp, and then I pull the Recruiter’s scarf from the railing and twine it carefully around my head.It’s all I can do, so I stand up, hunch my shoulders against the cold and start making my way down the platform.
What do You think about The Dark And Hollow Places?
