I tried to sell my soul last night
Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
He may have been something once, a very long time ago. Now he is as hollow as the man he had always pretended to be. He had never been anything good, of course, but he had been something. Perhaps her lunacy has some truth to it. Every time he’d died, he had left a little piece of himself behind. If that were true, there must be very little of himself left.
In truth, he cannot say he has very much of himself left at all. Cannot say his own personal nightmare is nearly as distant as he wishes it to be. Perhaps in another decade, he would simply be a soulless shell of a man, wandering these cursed woods for eternity as he rotted away and died over and over again.
Would she still find him so interesting then?
He doubts it.
It fuels the bitter humor that begins to rise in his throat, turning his next biting jest to acid on his tongue. “If this is all that remains of you, there must not have been very fucking much to begin with.”
If he could read thoughts, he would have laughed out loud at her imagination of his conceit. He might have been fool enough to believe himself the ‘baddest boy on the block’ once, but that had been whipped from him decades ago. No, what she now witnesses is the demeanor of an old ass who had stopped giving a shit several lifetimes ago.
Turning away from her with a dismissive snort, he starts walking once more, brushing off her practiced affection with the ease of someone who wouldn’t know it if it smacked him in the face. “If it’s forgetting you want, I have a few suggestions for you.”
@[Sabra]