Post by gamemaker minerva hale on Jun 26, 2017 22:59:32 GMT -5
"She's going to die, isn't she?"
The thought replayed itself in my head, over and over again. Pictures of her already bruised knuckles giving up for good, blonde hair dyed crimson by her life force. She'd fought her entire life— all of us had.
West went in ahead of us, came out with an expression somewhere between hope and hopelessness. I hoped I would never feel something like that, lose someone so special to me. Instinctively, my fingers intertwined with my twin sister's and squeezed. Daylight and dark, a promise broken and words spoken true— we were nothing alike, Umbria and I, but the idea that I might have lost her someday was enough to make me sick.
"They're ready for the two of you." A broad-shouldered man said. A tall woman opened the door and allowed us inside.
There she was: still alive. Part of me had already expected her to be something less than. Maybe it was already starting, though. There was a blankness in her sister orphan's stare, cold like ice, apathetic. Preparing, probably. Steeling herself for what was to come.
"If it is West you're worried about, don't be. We can keep an eye on her until you—" I hated myself for pausing. It implied doubt. I didn't doubt. Or maybe I did, I—