Hollow #2 - Chapter 54 (Patreon)

Chapter 54 - Devastation

The Hellforge

Fuck this shit!  Is anything real?

“I see you’ve re-joined us,” Cole said.

I blinked.  Blinked again.

I was back inside the forge, standing beside the anvil where Fang was chained up – bloodied and bruised but alive.  Cole sat atop the metal, the clawed hand of that bear creature still resting on his shoulder – his pitch black eyes watching me curiously.

My head was pounding, my mind struggling to catch back up.  After reducing Lili’s corruption and trapping her in my hand, I thought the madness would stop.  Yet Danae’s memories were still there.  Still so fresh in my mind.  Proof that I’d been wrong.  Maybe Lili was related to my madness, but she might not be causing it.

At least, not intentionally…

“Ahh, I see you’ve figured it out,” Cole face hovered before my own – taking up my vision.  His lips split into an impossibly wide smile – one that was disconcerting on the elf’s face.  His voice was strange.  It echoed.  As though many people were speaking at once. 

“But your houseguest got what she deserved for her lies.  Now there are only two of you left – two among dozens.”  Cole abruptly floated backward, his body limp like a ragdoll.  And I could see why.  The bear creature was no longer touching him, but those dark chains wrapped the elf’s limbs, puncturing the flesh and squirming beneath his skin.

 Cole waved at the room, his motions jerky like a puppet.  At the corpses strewn about the floor.  At Fang and I standing before an altar – no longer a celebration of our bromance but a fight for survival. Our bodies wrapped in those same dark chains that emerged from glowing hell portals along the floor.  Those flames illuminating the true culprit.

The monster behind Cole.  The malformed bear’s eyes were flaming embers that stared into my soul.  That must be able to read my thoughts as easily as any scroll – its gifts only amplified by Cole’s gas light spirit.  This was looking pretty bad, even for us.

Yet it only got worse.

The bear demon lifted its other paw and spirits sprang from the many corpses filling the forge.  A rainbow of blues, red, yellows, greens, blues, and whites.  They struggled.  Tried to flee.  To run.  To return to the safety of Cocytus.  Of the Flow.  But the demon seemed to have its own mass; its own gravity – one that pulled those spirits in, in, in…

Into that mawing chasm of teeth and flesh and metal and rot as it stretched its muzzle wide.  As the bear devoured those spirits, their colors faded until only gray and black remained, until they became part of the bear… of the gate itself.

Just like Maribel had; like my babies had.

If that had even been real – not just some dream.

“Delicious,” Cole’s many voices purred, speaking for the monster.  “The fear, the excitement, the righteous fury, all with the tantalizing aftertaste of truth.”

“What is this?” I muttered, my head pounding again – struggling to regain my grasp on my own sanity; on reality itself.  “What are you?”

“The guardian of this gate,” Cole answered with that same creepy smile.  “Not this vessel, of course.  Although, we appreciate you bringing us such a prize.  When faced with his own truth – his own weakness, he gave in easily.  All it took was a promise of power.  It made our work so much easier – so much more fun.  We think we will keep him.”

Yeah, it had been a real blast so far…

“I had nothing to do with that,” I muttered.

“But you did.  Without your stories – the many details about his gaslight spirit – I would have never thought to corrupt his vessel,” the demon purred.

There was a lot to process there – too much maybe.  And my head hurt bad.  Although, Fang didn’t look much better.  Exhausted.  Nimbus deleted.  Scars marking his wrists where the chain bound him down, his eyes filled with pain and fury.  No doubt, the real Fang had been forced to sit there and watch everything that had happened.

Possibly.  Or maybe this was all just another illusion.  A memory. A fake reality.  Even now, those afterimages had returned, surrounding the bear demon.  A hundred versions all similar – all alike – but not the same.  More gaslighting?  Another layer of deceit?  I mean, this couldn’t be Lili – not anymore.  Or were these actual memories?

“What… what’s happening?” I asked Fang.

I didn’t know if I could trust him… or anything.  But what was left?

The savran spoke slowly, like each word cost him, never letting the bear or that grinning Cole puppet out of his sight.  “Do not trust this monster.  He may say he only cares for the truth, but he still lies—”

The chains wrapping Fang’s body suddenly flared, glowing bright red and his scales sizzling as they burned.  The savran let out a grunt but refused to scream.  “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Cole offered, thinly-veiled fury filling his voices.  “You know that’s not true.  Not entirely.  While I may mislead… I never lie.”

As the flames relented and Fang collapsed against the anvil, Cole’s dark eyes shifted back to my face.  “As for your question, you already know what this is, don’t you?”

I frowned, then my eyes widened.  The memory returned in a flash.

The one where Lipos – another Lipos – had explained the nature of the gate.

“This is the competition.  We are vying for control of the gate.”

The demon’s smile just widened further – threatening to split Cole’s face in two.

And it was clear we hadn’t entered the gate, which meant…

“You can leave the gate on your own.”

 But, of course, it could.  Because that beast behind Cole had killed my parents all those many cycles ago – burned them alive in our village in Anchon.  I could feel anger simmering in my veins, clouding my already flailing thoughts.  Perhaps my vessel was not as battered or beaten as Fang’s, but the same couldn’t be said for my mind.

Even as I considered trying to escape, more of those phantom images flitted through the room.  The other-mes all reenacting a dozen – a thousand possibilities.  Where I tried to run.  To flee.  To buck my chains.  To drain the beast’s nimbus.  To use my abilities – ones I had and ones I didn’t… or maybe I did?  Yet the result was always the same.

I failed.  Too weak without Lili, without Fang… without my own sanity.  Second guessing myself, my actions, my own memories.

“I see you understand,” Cole sneered, humor in those voices.  “You cannot escape. “You are not strong enough to overcome me – not now.  Not with your houseguest restrained.  Not with all this sweet nimbus you’ve given me.”

All that nimbus he’d stolen from me.

Well, at least that made things easier on my poor mind…

There wasn’t a decision to be made – any tactic to employ.

A million possibilities all collapsed down to one and the pain faded.

“What is this competition then?” I demanded, struggling to focus on Cole.

The elf just smiled back.  “A game of truths.  My chains force the truth from you.  And well, whoever is left standing wins.”  He glanced back at the corpses of our audience.

And when I followed his gaze, I suddenly saw it.

I’d missed it before – distracted by emotion; by madness.

But it was clear now.  They had killed each other.  All of them.  A throat through the oversized neck of a friend.  Or a heavy set crewmate.  Because those were all Lipos’ crew.  Lipos’ family.  A shiv in a father’s rotund belly.  An axe decapitating an uncle.  A sword skewering an aunt.  They had butchered one another.

My head throbbed as the memories came flooding back – Lili no longer holding them at bay – no longer protecting me from the truth.  Because in this world – in this version of the story – we didn’t destroy the creditors’ ship.  In this one, Peri forced Lipos and his crew to enter the gate.  A cold, logical decision.  An experiment.

To test the strength of the gate.

Whether a truth could kill.

And it had.  Many times.

This was still the Five Rivers, after all.  Even if I liked to pretend it wasn’t – liked to imagine that it could be something more.  A world full of friendship.  And despite our different vessels, we were all the same on the inside.  We were all looking to survive.

No matter what it took.  No matter what lies we needed to tell.  What secrets we needed to keep.  No matter who we needed to kill.  Even family.

And now Fang and I were next.

Facing a demon that forces out the truth.

One I was too weak to fight.  Too unfocused to reverse what I’d done to Lili.

Even this much was a struggle… my focus slip, slip, slipping away across a thousand possibilities, unable to tell which one was real… which one was true.  If any of them were true?  If any of it even mattered?  If only I could trust—

My eyes widened.  The foreign memories weren’t all fantasy – they held truths.  My memories of Lipos had been real… they just hadn’t ever happened.  But you—you know what I mean.  The information was still real.  Somewhere.  Maribel might be gone.  But she had existed.  Just like my babies.  Just like my death wagon.  Just like how I’d remembered Lipos and his family.  Fang had said it itself…

The demon couldn’t lie.  And that must still apply to Cole’s gaslighting, right?  The others hadn’t lied – not that I could tell.  No contradictions.  Few facts.  Mostly questions.  I’d supplied the rest.  I’d been the one lying to myself this whole time.

And any time they had made a statement… well, then that was the truth, wasn’t it?

So, I just needed to start over.

From the beginning.

To tell another story.

A true one this time.

So, here it goes… my name is Nyx.

A Nyx.  One among many.

These stories I tell – these things I keep seeing – they aren’t dreams, aren’t mirages… they’re memories.  That’s what Lili had said.  And memories are recordings of real events.  Things that happened to me… just not this me.  Other versions of me.  The same ones responsible for all of my many strange skills; for the overlaps.  All of you.  My real audience.

Suddenly, the possibilities slowed, then stopped.  I was still struggling to focus, my head still aching, but I was clearer than I’d been in ages.  Maybe cycles.

Now that I was accepting the truth instead of running from it.

Clear enough to consider our situation.

We couldn’t escape, couldn’t fight. Which meant there was only one option left.  My gaze shifted to that demonic creature behind Cole’s floating form. 

We could still negotiate.

Because this wasn’t just a demon.  Maribel had taught me that.  She might not be here, but the memory remained.  Maribel had been the guardian of her gate.  A queen before her prime. The primary spirit of the gate – one directing many others.  And she and her rats had once lived.  They had been wronged.  That was why they’d been so angry – just like the fury I saw reflected in that bear’s fiery gaze.

“How have you been wronged?” I asked, my throat hoarse.

Cole’s dark eyes widened slightly.

Then he let out an echoing, cackling laugh.

“Ahh, your mind is more resilient than expected.  Even after all that.  Those lies and secrets and betrayals.  Challenging the very foundations of your reality.  You still cling to your sanity – your sense of self,” Cole crowed.

His face loomed close, his body hanging from those chains.  “But still – you have no hope.  We are not like this Maribel that never was.  Do not have any capacity for compassion or goodness.  Do not answer to any one soul.  We are not one, but many.  Oh-so-many wronged.  In that way, we are much like you.  And just like you, we will not stop – will not let you go – of that we are quite confidant.”

“How were you wronged?” I insisted.

Cole’s smile widened.  “Ahh, we will gladly to tell you.”

The spirit seemed happy – too happy.  Like I might have gotten played again.

“Lipos – the fat father – he told you, yes?  About Apati?  A city of light and innovation. A utopia.  One striving for something more.  Community.  Equality.  And founded by a man with the power to pull it off – a forge spirit.  So, he built it.”

“A spirit forge,” Cole announced, his eyes pulsing with corrupt power.

“One that can forge dreams.”

A cackling, howling, disembodied laugh followed.

“But how is such a thing powered?  What fuel does it use, they ask,” Cole spat, his voices changing and shifting more erratically now – the flaming portal flaring.

“The Founder he says it is the river.  The nimbus.  A plan to recycle its power.  To harness its energy.  And we believe him because he forges dreams.  We move to this city.  So many of us of so many different races.  We give him our dreams.

“And he builds miracles.  Machines.  Towering walls.  A home.

“Then we begin to go missing.  Just a few of us at first.

“A mother.  A son.  An uncle.  An aunt.”

Each was said in a different voice.  A child.  An older woman.  A young man.  I swallowed hard, Fang and I staring wide-eyed.

“Not enough for the others to notice – no, no, no, no,” Cole continued.

“Not at first.  But then we start to ask questions.

“Where do they go?  Where do they disappear to?”

Cole’s face loomed close, his eyes meeting mine.

“Where do you think they went?” they asked.  So many of them.  And I could see them now – sense them despite Lili’s weakened state.  The tens of thousands of spirits swimming in Cole’s eyes – individual threads and strands woven together – no, chained together.  Bonded by their anger and their rage and their hate.  Woven together to form a monstrous, misshapen beast, that hungered for the sickly sweet taste of revenge.

“The… the forge,” I grunted.  “He used their vessels to power it.”

Just like I had – just like our tour-guides had tried to do.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” Cole manic-muttered.

I looked back at the forge again, at that flaming portal flickering behind that dull and silent anvil.  And I saw the truth.  The Founder hadn’t created a spirit forge… he’d created a corrupted gate.  That whole story was bullshit – a lie that kept people pouring in.  An endless stream of nimbus.  Of souls.  Souls that hated lies.  That despised secrets.

Which is how I realized my mistake.

It had told me the truth.  There was no reasoning with this thing.

I had nothing worth trading.  Because it only cared about revenge – fed on the lies of the victims thrown into its clutches.  Which meant it was still feeding.  So, what was left?

I’d told my truths, so had Lili, even Fang had—

My eyes fixed on the savran, his jaw clenched shut, his eyes on the beast.  There was fear in his eyes.  Anger too.  But also something else…

Then came the questions.  Inevitable.  Buzzing.  Like why was he here?  Why was he staring at that demon like he recognized it?  How had he seen through the creature’s deception when everyone else hadn’t – even me?  That was the only reason he could still be here, right?  Tied up?  Left for last?  Why he couldn’t meet my eyes?

That cackle came again, at my shoulder as Cole followed my gaze.  “Yes, you see now.  There is no escape – not for you.  No talking your way out of this.  Especially not when there are such tantalizing truths left.  Aren’t there, Fang?” the demon purred.

Fang flinched, closing his eyes.

I had dreamed of this day for days… weeks… maybe even cycles.  A chance to finally ask all of my questions.  Demand answers.  Force out Fang’s secrets.

Like why had he followed me for cycles?

Rescued me from Anchon?

Jumped into the gate after me?

Fought beside me?

Come to Apati with me?

And yet, now that I was here… I just wanted to run away.

Even as the chains wrapping my limbs slithered free.  “Then leave,” Cole purred.  “You can just walk out now.  You are free.”

Yet I couldn’t move.  Couldn’t leave.

“So, which one shall you ask first?” the demon cooed, lingering at my shoulder, urging me on, Fang’s scales slick with moisture now.

“Why?  Why do you help me when you seem to hate me?”

The words poured out before I could stop them.

And they were filled with my own truth.

Because in every memory – every universe – Fang was there.  Always there.  Tormenting.  Prodding and poking and stabbing and laughing.

 “I… I don’t hate—” Fang began.

Yet the chains didn’t let him.  They flared hot and red, sizzling against his scales.  Fang letting out a pained grunt, sagging against the anvil – his chest heaving.

“Fine.  Fine, I do hate you – hate what you’ve done to me,” Fang muttered, shaking his head, unable to look at me.  “Hate myself for knowing the truth.”

“What truth?” I muttered, my stomach clenching tight.

I thought I was done being hurt; was already numb.

Yet I’d been wrong.  The confirmation hurt more than I could have imagined.

And what was coming next would crush me…

Yet I couldn’t stop – didn’t want to stop.

His eyes rose to meet mine.  “That it is my fault.  All of it.”

My brow furrowed. “What is?”

Another question.  Another answer compelled.

Fang tried to fight it, the chains rattling and glowing.  Smoke streaming off his scales. Hot and thick and dark.  And yet, in the end, he still lost—

“I did it!  I’m the one who killed your parents!” Fang shouted.

To make the pain end.  To make it stop.

And it did.  The chains cooled, his body went limp.

I stared, my mind wheeling.  He… he killed my parents?

No, no that didn’t make sense.  The bear did.  This demon did!  I knew that – I think… no, I was sure!  Then Manslaughter’s words returned to me – forgotten amid my madness and Fang’s betrayal.  They had talked about a gate.  About Fang entering a gate.

Again.  Again, she’d said.  Which implied he’d entered a gate before.

“You entered this gate,” I muttered.  Not a question.  Not exactly.

But Fang took a final, deep wavering breath.

Then he changed.  His weight shifted.  His head lifted.  He stumbled upright, rising to his feet, those chains giving him just enough slack.  His eyes rose to meet mine.

“Yes… yes, I entered this gate,” Fang said then.  “And you know why.  I was weak – too weak.  Hunted by the females.  Mocked.  Not a hunter – never a hunter – never enough.  So, I decided to make my own name.”

In the custom of his family.  His first kill.

And what better way than this death game?

In a game of truths, one where the other was held hostage.

“But the gate was cold.  Dormant,” I muttered.  “Which means—”

“I had to bide my time.  Wait for someone to enter first.  Someone like your father,” Fang hissed, his eyes flashing.  “He came to Apati cycles ago.  More than a dozen.  He came looking for the forge—for the gate.  To study it, he said.  Research.”

“Why?” I murmured, shaking my head.  “Why study this?”

Fang met my eyes evenly, Cole watching us both silently, hanging suspended in the darkness, those pitch-black eyes never blinking.

“For you.  Because of you,” he spat finally.  “He was hunted across the Five Rivers.  Accidents.  Assassins.  Monster, beasts, and spirits.  From the moment you were born, he said.  It was like the Flow itself was hunting you.  Like the universe wished to wipe you from this world.  So, he tried to find a cure.  A solution.  A way to escape his fate… and yours,” Fang said.

I swallowed.  Swallowed hard against the lump in my throat.

I had always suspected – had always known in my heart.  In that hollow void in my chest.  That I wasn’t paranoid.  That my life was a shit show.  That I was being hunted.

And here was confirmation.  Validation.

Yet it only came with more questions – with answers I didn’t want to hear.

But Fang had already started – and now it couldn’t be stopped.

“He thought this gate was the solution – that the corruption was the solution,” Fang continued, taking a step forward, the chains clanking but letting him move, the slack growing.  Proof of the truth of his words.  “So, he came here to study it.  Only to find it dark and empty.

“Yet he didn’t give up.  He just needed time.  So, he created a business from the ruins of this city – to provide food and resources.  Preying on those stupid backwater villagers with Elder Gracen – with Tom, his companion.  Worming their way into those communities.  Hiring our tribe as employees.  As guards.  An empire built on lies.  One that helped turn born hunters into prey,” Fang spat.

“So, when the day finally came – when he entered the forge – I followed him,” Fang continued.  “Crept after him.  Used my mist spirit to hide from him.”

Possibilities were cropping up around Fang now.

A hundred afterimages filled with blood and pain and fire.

As though my mind was instinctively looking for a way out.

“Stop… stop,” I grunted, holding up a hand.

But he didn’t.  Fang kept going.

“I watched as he sacrificed dozens.  Butchered them himself.  As he opened the gate – this flaming portal to hell.  As he met with this demon,” Fang snarled.

He was suddenly standing close – too close.

“Fang, stop.  Please.  You don’t have to tell me this.”

“But I do,” Fang snapped, my eyes locking with his.  “When the portal opened, the demon emerged – just like now.  I was trapped inside.  Chained down.  Standing in this same spot.  Facing your father – just like now.  The man trying to save you.  To protect you.”

My hands clenched into fists – I tried to look away from his gaze.

To avoid what was coming – the rage in my chest.

 “Do you know what happened next?” Fang hissed.

 He was close now – close enough to feel his breath.

“Don’t… please don’t Fang… I can’t—”

“I didn’t even wait for his truth,” Fang growled.  “I killed him where he stood.”

My heart was hammering, my head pounding – all those possibilities collapsing down into a single outcome.  Rage welling in my chest.

Fang leaned close.  “And when I took control of the forge, I made sure you and your family would never threaten us again,” he whispered.  “The gate killed them all – all except for you.  So, I stayed, I watched, I waited… all for a chance to finish it.

“To earn my place.  To recapture the power of the gate for myself.”

“But you told me to leave.  Not to come—” I muttered.

“Reverse psychology, you call it,” Fang hissed.  “The weak hunter—”

He never finished.  Never got the chance.

I wasn’t bound.  Wasn’t restrained.  Still had some power left – even with Lili contained.  Enough to act on the rage welling my gut.  On the betrayal.  The lies.  The secrets.  The pain that Fang had caused.  All of it because of Fang.  My family – my real family – dead and gone and kidnapped because of Fang.  Tortured because of Fang.

Only here… because of Fang.  Because of his secrets.

Lili and the babies gone.  The tourists dead.  My sanity in tatters.

All because of fucking Fang.

My fist connected with his chest and just kept going, suddenly feeling too wet – too warm.  A rhythmic thump, thump, thump that pressed against my fingers.

Then my eyes snapped open.

“The weak hunter… uses the tools he has,” Fang finished, blood staining his teeth.

Those glowing yellow eyes met mine – filled not with anger or hate or disgust… but with a deep and unrelenting sadness.  With regret.  With guilt.

It was in that moment I realized my mistake.  Finally noticed the burns along Fang’s arms and legs – the way the chains were only beginning to cool.  Evidence of more lies.  Those first few must have been to test the strength of the chains.  The heat.  To allow himself to endure these final few moments – to say what he had to.  Deceit mixed and muddied by truth until I almost couldn’t tell the two apart.  Almost.  Although, some truths were obvious.

Like Fang hadn’t meant to harm me.  He’d done this to ensure I lived – that I survived a game with only one winner.  Just like he’d protected me for cycles.  Had jumped into a gate to save me.  Had been my side through thick and thin.

The evidence was in the palm of my hand.

Fang’s heart resting in my fingers.

Then he collapsed, his body sagging to the floor.  Lifeless.  Still.  His blood pooling around him, seeping out of that ragged hole in his chest.  The blow he hadn’t tried to dodge.

My mind was racing.  My eyes staring blindly.

I had… I had just killed… killed Fang?

And as that realization struck me, a book suddenly materialized in the air.  Thick, aged leather stained a dark black.  Symbols I didn’t recognize engraved into the surface and glowing with an ominous red light.  A title.  Words written in blood.  “Grudges,” it said.  A [Book of Grudges].  Just like the skill I’d gained oh-so-long ago now.

The cover flipped open on its own, pages skipping and flicking and skittering forward with the shuffling murmur of paper.  Five, ten, a hundred, a thousand… more – many more.  Too many.  And each page filled with the same name written over and over and over.  There were no more afterimages.  No phantom ghosts.  No audience.  Not anymore.  A million lifetimes all converging upon this same, singular moment…

One where the book reached a blank page and stopped.

Blood lifted from the ground – Fang’s blood – and another word formed on that page.  Another name written in blood – Fang’s name.  Joining the long list of others. 

And I saw the truth.  Could see them all.  A million lifetimes.

And in each one Fang died here – always died here.

Because we traveled north of Anchon.

Because I didn’t listen to him.  Didn’t trust him.

Because I was tricked by a demon – one that preyed on my insanity.

Because I fucking killed him.

Because he lied… lied to protect me.  Just like Lili had.

I stood there, staring at that page.  At that blood debt as wide as an ocean.

One insane man standing amid a dusty tomb, his audience all dead, his babies no more than dolls, Cole consumed by a monster, Lili trapped in a prison of flesh, and Fang dead.  His family gone.  His stories mere memories.  No way out.  No brilliant plan to escape.  No miraculous fix.  Just alone.  All alone.

And something inside me – something important – it broke.

“Interesting,” the demon hissed, the one still using Cole’s body.  Even as he spoke, Fang’s spirit drifted free of his body, sparkling like mist before my eyes.  “I wasn’t expecting such a twist.  To think he would use a lie to protect you.”

As I looked on, that spirit – Fang’s spirit – drifted toward the bear, its rotten maw splitting wide.  Then the demon consumed it – ate Fang’s soul before my eyes.  Corrupted that pristine blue and white until it was only a sickly black.

A cruel, cackling laugh filled the forge.  “No matter.  We are finished now.  What will you claim as your prize, hmm?  What will you create with the forge?”

My eyes snapped back to Cole’s inquiring face.

Fang wasn’t responsible for this.

Neither was my father.  Or Lili.  Or Elder Gracen.  Or even this demon.

I could always tell when I was sitting right smack in the middle of a trap.

There was only one thing responsible for my million lifetimes of suffering.  Only one possible explanation.  I’d seen it myself.  Hadn’t Emporos traveled back and forth across time to publish Horus’ manuscript?   There was only one way that was possible.  One thing that had hunted my family across time.  Had tricked me into murdering Fang over and over and over across an impossible number of lives.  My friend.  My bromate.  One of the only people that had cared for me – that had tried to protect me.

“What do you wish to do now?” Cole asked again, his face looming close.

In a blur of motion, I snatched his throat – no longer restrained.  No longer at this demon’s mercy.  I’d played by his rules already.  Dark energy pulsed down my arm, just a trickle at first, then a torrent as I drained the monster dry.

“What are you—what are you doing?” Cole demanded, his eyes wide and wild.  The bear stirred.  But it was already too late.  These were the rules.

The victor gained control of the gate.  Of all of those tormented souls.

The previous winners had built weapons.  Tools.  Artifacts.

But I wanted something different.

So, I took them.  I took them all.

Filled my empty, hollow vessel with those spirits.  With their anger.  Their rage.  Even as that bear crumbled.  As Cole’s vessel was drained dry and fell to the floor – just one more corpse.  Until there was nothing left.  That hollow void still not full – still ravenous – still demanding more.

Our vessel pulsed with power.  Corruption threaded our limbs, our skin almost completely black, a thousand inky tendrils coiling along our skin.  Words.  Tens of thousands of words.  The screams and pleas and demands of a legion.

All of them begging for one thing.  Revenge.

Maybe Danae had it right, after all.  Maybe we could kill death.

All we had to do was eat.  Devour.  Consume.

But food wasn’t enough.  Not anymore.

 We were going to devour it all.

Starting with our true enemy.

The Flow itself.