s i n e m a t i c
devil's night
death march
By nata
A pill to make you numb, a pill to make you dumb, a pill to make you anybody else
The darkness crept up her hand, caressing her outstretched fingers, slithering around her wrist, and holding tight with a grip of iron. Talons grew from her fingertips, razor-edged claws, long and fierce. It climbed her arm, the tendrils of the darkness spattering like spilled ink on the pale parchment of her skin…
