Afraid to suffer.
This stays with her.
Even more than the growl that sprang forth from the shadows.
The footsteps.
The warning he breathed into her neck.
The way they moved in step toward the River.
Quickly.
Quickly.
Because he was afraid to suffer.
And the darkness had teeth.
And electric red eyes.
And such a vicious hunger.
And she was not afraid to die.
She had died so violently once.
But he was afraid to suffer.
So they had fled and the words had echoed hollow in her head.
Afraid to suffer.
All the way to the river she had thought of the ways she had suffered.
The child, the child.
It was the child she remembered.
The teeth.
How she had died so it could live.
How it had killed her so that it could live.
Did that make it a monster?
She never even had the chance to give it a name.
And what do you name a thing like that anyway?
Was it the child that stalked them through the darkness?
How could she ever know?
Would the water protect them?
She was not afraid to die but he was afraid to suffer.
And why should this soften her to him?
Why should this make him seem more real?
They arrived, finally, at the edge of the River.
Behind them, the shadows did not stir.
The thing had found other prey.
“My name is Bible.”
What was the purpose of this?
Was there some part of her that wanted him to find her should they become separated?
Some part of her that wanted him to have something of her to hold onto?
She was no romantic.
Too old, too battered.
But there was still a heart buried beneath the gleaming exterior.
i didn't need to go where a bible went
@[Chemdog]
