His legs could no longer support the crushing weight of reality. Roland collapsed to his knees, the polished wooden floor slamming against him, but he felt nothing. Utter disbelief seized his mind, snapping the iron threads of his sanity.
With trembling, desperate arms, he reached into the crate and lifted the decaying, bloated corpse. He held her gently, with a terrifying tenderness, as if she were still made of living warmth and porcelain skin. He pulled her ruined form against his chest, cradling her as hot, searing tears streamed down his face, soaking into her stained dress.
"Oh, no... God, please, no..." he whimpered, the sound raw and entirely unrecognisable.
He pulled back slightly, his bloodshot eyes searching her rigid, blue-grey face.
