Josephine turned to meet the fleeing Anton and her eyes flickered to the spear as it loomed closer. She tried to adjust her movement, to sidestep out of the way. But to no avail. A brief flicker of sardonic thought crossed her mind as the weapon pierced her flesh: You win some, you los-
By the time she was kicked from the spear, sensation of pain was lost in the fog of Torpor. Josephine was lost to strange dreams; hazy but disturbing in its content. Scalpels appeared to hover above her prone form. And then hands began to form, gripping surgeon's implements tightly. Patients circled her, drawing nearer, faces savage with bloodlust as they began to cut into her flesh.
This was not going to be a pleasant dream.


Draft this Post

