@naecromantic

Dawn bloomed, sending pale winter light sinking over everything. Shia could barely see it, the stream was too strong today. Not the grey quiet like usual though, with barely audible echoes eddying around her ankles.  No. This was different. The fresh wound on her back had told her that much. It explained the red misty fog that had settled over everything in her sight. Death omens hanging heavy in the air. Someone was going to bleed today. She just wasn’t sure who. 

Shia had dressed in the dark, layer after layer. Every last one of her knives, big and small strapped along her arms, her ribs, her legs. A small pistol tucked into the back of her jeans. The vision hadn’t shown her much, but it was enough. 

So she was there when they assaulted the Monolith, its dark finger reaching towards the sun trying to blot it out. The gates blew up and she rushed past them, past empty staircases and doors that led up or down. 

She wasn’t sure if anyone was with her, or if she moved alone. Only of the handle of the blade in her hand, and the moaning voices that danced along the walls in horror. She had seen this. She was going the right way. 

She heard them before she saw them. A screaming maw of voices curling up from the well in the floor. She recognized it from the flashes, felt the new wound in her back remind her that she was actually here. This was Now, and this was where she’d been meant to go.