╰┈➤𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ━━ ❝You've always been my little muse.❞
𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛- you're the object of many powerful men desires; from gods to warriors...they all want 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 🇵🇴🇸🇹-ᴇᴘɪᴄ: ᴛᴍ!ᴀᴜ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
📖A mythic slow-burn, spiralin...
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━ ⭒─⭑━
When you opened your eyes, there was no ceiling above you.
No sky.
Just dark.
A soft, endless kind of dark—stretched wide like a sea of ink, deep and unmoving. You blinked slowly, chest rising in a breath that didn't quite feel like breathing. The air wasn't cold, exactly. It wasn't warm either. Just... still.
You stood on something. Not ground, not marble. It felt smooth beneath your feet, glass-like but firm, with no echo when you stepped forward. You hesitated—then walked. Slowly. Barefoot and careful.
It was only then that you noticed it.
On either side of you, stretching long like a hallway with no walls, were two veils. Like liquid glass. Rippling softly in your peripheral vision.
You turned.
The one to your right shimmered with dim light. Familiar outlines moved behind it—stone walls, the faded purple glow of twilight, and the glint of metal lying across cobbled ground. The alley.
You.
The last thing you remembered.
The curve of your body slumped against the wall, the dark stain blooming from your side. That little trickle of blood beneath your chin. The broken look in your eyes as they stared off—unseeing.
You flinched. Stepped back. A small gasp escaping your lips.
Then turned left.
And stilled.
Because the veil on this side held no memory.
Only murk. Black and thick and shifting like it was alive. You couldn't see through it—only felt what waited beyond. Coldness pressed behind that glass like something breathing just inches away, biding its time.
It didn't show you anything.
It didn't need to.
You didn't know how, but... you knew it called for you. Not cruelly. Not kindly either. Just inevitable. It was the pull of the sea when you were too tired to swim. The way your body leaned into sleep when your bones gave out. Quiet. Deep.
Final.
You tore your eyes away.
"Hello?" you called, your voice echoing softly, swallowed by the space.
No answer.
You took another step forward. And another. You weren't sure what you were moving toward. The space didn't curve, didn't change—but still, you walked. Hoping, maybe, that something would shift. That someone would answer.
