wishing death upon a fallen star

Dimosthenes · 11-15-2021, 04:03 PM

D i m o s t h e n e s

Dimosthenes couldn't stop for a second. He'd been running for years, or at least it felt like it. And what was the difference anymore? Reality or perception, he couldn't tell. He couldn't stop. He couldn't think. If he tried, the voices would scream until he wanted to slash off his own ears and cry on the ground. There were so many voices, and they could scream very loudly when they wanted to. When he did what they wanted: run, they were quieter but still pushy.

He knew that they appealed to his worst instincts. It was revealing something about him that the voices suggested so often that he should sacrifice someone else to this disease. They'll get it, they whispered. But you'll lose it. They were getting more and more convincing as he struggled through pain and sleeplessness and the ever-present terror.

And why should he fight it?

Why not give in and destroy someone else?

No one had ever saved Dime. He'd learned his whole life that no one could really count on anyone else. You had to look out for number one, or you'd die, quick or slow but unavoidable either way.

And there was someone. Right there. "Noooo..." the voices wailed. "Not him." Before Dime could run off, the wolf whipped around and hissed right at him. Dime spat a thick cord of ooze at him and snarled. He didn't remember meeting him before. The voices screamed suddenly, and he yelped involuntarily.

"Speech"

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wishing death upon a fallen star

dime

Dimosthenes