bony hand to me as if to say, “Come.”
I hesitate a moment. The skeleton waits.
I take his hand, and I lower myself off the horse. The bones of his hand dig into mine, it hurts just holding it, and I nearly collapse into his frame as I slide off. I’m too hurt to fight, too broken to resist, and too weak to say anything more.
Is this the one who will deliver me unto death?
He’s close enough I can look straight into the sockets of his eyes. There’s no glow there, no magic light, just a grinning, bony, skeletal man dressed in worn-away clothes. He’s taller than me, the rags clinging to his frame, bits of battered armor here and there, and he wears belts and a scabbard for a sword.
He leads me towards the pile of moss-covered rocks and logs, and we walk around the side. It is peaceful here, quiet and calm, the moist air hanging around us making me sweat. The bones of his fingers wrap around mine and pull me along.
"Wait," I say, struggling to keep up. I feel weak and my wings are dragging behind me, and they're just slowing me down. Besides, I don't want them dragging in the dirt and the leaves. I pull against his bony hand, and weakly struggle to right my wings. I get them in place, the black feathers feeling good against me, slightly weighty but reassuring.
I look around. There are giant trees around us, long strings of moss hanging from wet sagging branches, and the soft hiss of rain somewhere off in the distance.
His bony hand pulls against me, the calcified fingers digging into my flesh. He pulls me towards the mound, and I see a cave entrance around the left side.
"Where we going?" I know I am not going to get an answer, but I ask anyways. He turns his bony head towards me, and then back towards the cave. Why he's taking me into this cave I do not know.
We step into the cave going down, mostly stepping on mossy rocks and other squishy things including rotting wood. It gets dark pretty quick, but I see faint yellow light on the large stone rocks ahead. The floor the cave is wet, and he keeps pulling me down.
Yellow light washes across the rocks, and torches light the interior of the cave. I can barely make out the shapes at this distance, but I can see years worth of junk piled up in here. I see dressers, racks of armor and clothing, spinning wheels, piles of rusting metal, chains, chests, old trunks, and every other piece of debris I can imagine sitting in an antique store somewhere. There are caves off of caves off of caves filled with junk down here.
He leads me over to a chair, and with a bony pop he puts a hand on my shoulder and pushes me into it. I sit and sigh, tilting my head back and groaning. The skeleton man walks away and opens a chest of drawers across from me.
"Who are you?" I rub my eyes, trying to scrub the pain away, but failing at that. "What are you? What is all of this? Where are we? What is going on?"
There are no answers from the dead. He turns, his hollow eyes still staring at me, and he holds a long needle with black silken thread.
"What is that for?" I sigh, letting my guard down. I've seen so much, I've been through so much, that I just don't care anymore.
His bony hand grabs my chin, the pressure of his finger bones digging into my flesh hurting immensely. As if I wasn't in enough pain today. His other hand draws close to my lip, pushing the needle against my skin.
I struggle and kick, fighting him, beating on him, and trying to get his hand away from me. He holds me tighter, trying to pierce my skin with the needle, and trying to sew my mouth shut.
He continues to hold me, the bones of his hand digging into my cheeks, the needle pinching hard as it tries to break skin.
I sound out muffled cries as my mouth is held tight, the hollow eyes staring down at me mercilessly, his other bony hand trying to work its devious and painful task.
I kick the chair out from underneath me, retreat back while wrestling free, and hold a finger in his face. "No! No, don't! Get that thing
I hesitate a moment. The skeleton waits.
I take his hand, and I lower myself off the horse. The bones of his hand dig into mine, it hurts just holding it, and I nearly collapse into his frame as I slide off. I’m too hurt to fight, too broken to resist, and too weak to say anything more.
Is this the one who will deliver me unto death?
He’s close enough I can look straight into the sockets of his eyes. There’s no glow there, no magic light, just a grinning, bony, skeletal man dressed in worn-away clothes. He’s taller than me, the rags clinging to his frame, bits of battered armor here and there, and he wears belts and a scabbard for a sword.
He leads me towards the pile of moss-covered rocks and logs, and we walk around the side. It is peaceful here, quiet and calm, the moist air hanging around us making me sweat. The bones of his fingers wrap around mine and pull me along.
"Wait," I say, struggling to keep up. I feel weak and my wings are dragging behind me, and they're just slowing me down. Besides, I don't want them dragging in the dirt and the leaves. I pull against his bony hand, and weakly struggle to right my wings. I get them in place, the black feathers feeling good against me, slightly weighty but reassuring.
I look around. There are giant trees around us, long strings of moss hanging from wet sagging branches, and the soft hiss of rain somewhere off in the distance.
His bony hand pulls against me, the calcified fingers digging into my flesh. He pulls me towards the mound, and I see a cave entrance around the left side.
"Where we going?" I know I am not going to get an answer, but I ask anyways. He turns his bony head towards me, and then back towards the cave. Why he's taking me into this cave I do not know.
We step into the cave going down, mostly stepping on mossy rocks and other squishy things including rotting wood. It gets dark pretty quick, but I see faint yellow light on the large stone rocks ahead. The floor the cave is wet, and he keeps pulling me down.
Yellow light washes across the rocks, and torches light the interior of the cave. I can barely make out the shapes at this distance, but I can see years worth of junk piled up in here. I see dressers, racks of armor and clothing, spinning wheels, piles of rusting metal, chains, chests, old trunks, and every other piece of debris I can imagine sitting in an antique store somewhere. There are caves off of caves off of caves filled with junk down here.
He leads me over to a chair, and with a bony pop he puts a hand on my shoulder and pushes me into it. I sit and sigh, tilting my head back and groaning. The skeleton man walks away and opens a chest of drawers across from me.
"Who are you?" I rub my eyes, trying to scrub the pain away, but failing at that. "What are you? What is all of this? Where are we? What is going on?"
There are no answers from the dead. He turns, his hollow eyes still staring at me, and he holds a long needle with black silken thread.
"What is that for?" I sigh, letting my guard down. I've seen so much, I've been through so much, that I just don't care anymore.
His bony hand grabs my chin, the pressure of his finger bones digging into my flesh hurting immensely. As if I wasn't in enough pain today. His other hand draws close to my lip, pushing the needle against my skin.
I struggle and kick, fighting him, beating on him, and trying to get his hand away from me. He holds me tighter, trying to pierce my skin with the needle, and trying to sew my mouth shut.
He continues to hold me, the bones of his hand digging into my cheeks, the needle pinching hard as it tries to break skin.
I sound out muffled cries as my mouth is held tight, the hollow eyes staring down at me mercilessly, his other bony hand trying to work its devious and painful task.
I kick the chair out from underneath me, retreat back while wrestling free, and hold a finger in his face. "No! No, don't! Get that thing
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