perhaps death was never the end,
perhaps it was just the beginning,
the beginning of the end.
if that isn't the case
then i believe i had my hopes up for nothing,
absolutely nothing.
━━ in which heather cartier, an alluring heartbreaker, rises from...
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007 , BROODING
❝death. i have fed that foul beast a feast, and yet it still hungers."❞
Heather couldn't sleep that night, not that she needed it. Sleep fails to catch those who run from it. She stayed up, her knees close to her chest as she sat at the foot of Hayley's bed. She stared ahead, and like a statue, she dared not move. The window was open and despite it, the room was humid and hot. The heavy temperatures pulled at Heather's hair so that it fell in frizzed strands around her frame.
"Can't sleep?" Hayley asked without stirring from her troubled sleep.
"No." Heather replied as she straightened out her legs.
Hayley stirred again as she tried to fall asleep. Heather propped up her head and moved to stand. Once her feet were planted she stole out of the room to explore the mansion.
Heather eventually chose the common room, where she sat on the plush couches. There, she laughed, she cried and thought of how she had died. Her life was a tragic comedy.
She stared out the open curtains and refrained from closing her eyes.
Etched beneath the lids of her eyes was the monstrosity of her character, her ruthlessness. She'd tortured a man close to death, watched him scream, listened to him beg, held his life in the balance just to make him relive her cruelty each day of his life. She'd torn the head off of another.
A terrible thought crossed her mind and tremored through her body. She shivered.
