Too much blood. Too much blood is dripping. He’ll smell it. He’ll find me.
Once again, she stopped for a moment and leaned against a wall under the flashing red bulbs and the piercing alarm. She inhaled and drew the blood back into her body through the poorly sealed gash that arced over her shoulder. A dozen rivulets trickled up her bare arm.
His name was Tantalus, but he had forgotten that name. He had forgotten what he had done to earn the eternal torment he suffered in the place of punishment, the realm known as Tartarus.Continue reading
The single drop of blood from a being that we call a god abides in the Temple of the Gentle. It abides there and must abide for all time, or until the end of time. For if anything were to happen to that one drop of blood, my kingdom and every single living and un-living thing in my kingdom would fall.Continue reading