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Summary
One night, during a more violent attack, as she felt the ice climbing the walls in the darkness and as blood roared in her ears, she thought of fear as a dagger. She watched it become a stalactite, slender and sharp, and then pierce her chest. Time and time again fear tore her apart, and silver blood leaked from her shattered skin, glistening against the darkness, forming a perfectly oval puddle at her feet, like a mirror: it was pain. Stratifications of liquid pain that suddenly rose before her eyes, higher and higher, shaped like peaks towers minarets, higher and higher, towards a sky beaded with electric stars, and the pain wouldn’t stop spiraling like madness, like a city of spikes of ice, the Starry City, the City of Pain.