Breathe. I can't breathe.
Maybe I'd cheated Death once too often, and today was finally the day. Every rattling bit of air I drew into my crushed chest reminded me just how quickly time was running out. Had it been worth it, after all?
I gazed at the darkened ceiling, flames dancing in the shadows, a vision of hell on stone. The stuttering beating of my heart pounded far too loudly in my ears, drowning out all other sounds. Time slowed to a moment of exhalation.
I waited for that final flash of insight, that rush of wisdom that would tell me life had meaning. But nothing came. No wisdom, no peace, nothing to tell me my short existence had meant anything. I was just like a mote of dust basking for a brief second in the sunlight.
A blaze of burning silvery fire streaked across the edge of my blurring vision. What was it? Was someone coming for me?
But it was too late...that crushing pain in my chest, the laboured breath...the agony...
Too late. I was already dead.
YOU ARE READING
Iridian
FantasyARDEN has nightmares of dying, but instead she wakes up to a different sort of horror-the kind where you don't remember who you are, or where you are. When she looks in the mirror, she doesn't recognize the face, only the tell-tale scar and bruises...
