38. Moss

38

Moss

Darkness held him like a lover. And the moment he let himself fall into its embrace, it abandoned him.

Not a lover at all. No love. No warmth. He was alone. The blazing certainty of his duty was his only light, the hope that he would be called to fulfil it his only hope.

No. That wasn't right. The idea of his duty didn't warm him. It terrified the hell out of him. Killing the Soul-Eater would make him a murderer, even if the man he murdered was a monster.

He tried to open his eyes, but there was only blackness, and as he fought to free himself, something coiled dark tentacles around him and dragged him deeper down.