Work Text:
Something f l i c k e r e d in a corner of her mind that
wasn’t
quite
hers.
It was a twisted, grimy thing, like a rat s c u r r y i n g across a clean floor, spotted out of the
corner
of her eye.
She shook it off, gritting her teeth…no, fangs. Then:
it snuck up to bite her, tearing mercilessly at her like the t e e t h of a rusty saw as a bone-chilling laugh e c h o e d in her head;
her thin, scaly skin shivered with the fear of it
just before she felt the dreadful phantom of a
knife
through
her
chest
again and again,
and she wanted to S C R E A M but her voice could only come out as a hideous cackle,
a horrible sound that was a nightmarish mockery of her own voice:
gone was the cheerful sweetness; the affected accent she worked so hard to maintain because it made the voice hers;
there was only a c r a c k l i n g, maniacal shrillness she had never heard but knew was
his
it was a sound of doom,
lost hope,
dead dreams;
she knew she would not wake up again.