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What am I so afraid of? Here I sit in a dark dungeon cell that smells of must so heavily I feel like gagging. It's the scent of the dead, and the sweat and fear of the living. Mostly it's the scent of the dead that's clouding my thoughts, bringing back the edges of memories that tease me; they are memories I don't want to know anyway. Filled with ghost knives, men in armor, the scent of the dead, thick and pungent, blood, and a horror that causes me to go into blackouts whenever I am near things such as these and do not concentrate so hard to ignore them. What am I so afraid of? Here I sit in a dark dungeon cell that smells of must so heavily I feel like gagging. It's the scent of the dead, and the sweat and fear of the living. Mostly it's the scent of the dead that's clouding my thoughts, bringing back the edges of memories that tease me; they are memories I don't want to know anyway. Filled with ghost knives, men in armor, the scent of the dead, thick and pungent, blood, and a horror that causes me to go into blackouts whenever I am near things such as these and do not concentrate so hard to ignore them. Saronai :: remember :: |
Kyla's downfall--Fears of the demon possessed
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