Uneasy and perilous in the place between sleep and dreams and wakefulness. He struggled to anesthetize himself, put his mind to rest, follow the beckoning black down down down into sleep. Do the wicked sleep he wondered. Does the widow in the high corner of the room, half hidden in the crack of broken mortar, sleep? Or is she in a state that no human creature could ever know? Was he human? He knew he was not. Not any longer. He'd traded that experience for this, unbeknownst what it would entail when the dark offer was made. He grimaced, the rictus of the mummified. Yet, that was not his lot either. He wasn't dead, not really.
Somewhere in some far-flung place, she lived. He didn't know how he knew this, how he could be sure. But like the spider that spins its web and waits, he knew a trap had been laid and soon she would become ensnared. She might not recognize him in this guise, but that could be overcome.
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
branchandroot
no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 08:42 pm (UTC)Somewhere in some far-flung place, she lived. He didn't know how he knew this, how he could be sure. But like the spider that spins its web and waits, he knew a trap had been laid and soon she would become ensnared. She might not recognize him in this guise, but that could be overcome.