The Hollow Room
Nothing feeds me. Nothing gives me strength. Even hope, when it comes, arrives weak and flickering, only to be swallowed by the dark before it can warm me. The world asks me to keep going, yet offers no reason why.
Dream State
The hum followed him through the hall like breath behind glass. It rose and fell with his steps, adjusting to match his pace. Pipes along the ceiling trembled when he passed, exhaling a thin breath, as though the ship were pretending to be still.
Now Serving the Damned
The smell of bodies rotting, the strong musk and odor emanating from everyone’s pores. It smells like a corpse that has been decaying for weeks.