~Grace~
I take one staggering step toward the man and realize just how hard it is going to be to stay conscious...
The pain of his sword twisting inside me is excruciating, but I hold back my screams as I stumble, dragging myself on ice-cold feet toward Gerald.
Frantically, he slaps his pant legs, brushing the fabric with a sweeping motion, though very careful not to touch the molten silver at the same time.
"Monster," he hisses. "You'll end the world with this. D—don't let it take me. Pl—please!"
What does he expect? Had he listened to me when I was pleading for my life? Had he taken pity on me right before he drove his sword into my gut? He hadn't. I have no understanding of what it is I am doing, but if this is a world-ending gift, then good. Fuck this world. I've seen enough of its darker side.
On the ground, the silver threads persist in climbing up Gerald's legs, probing, ever moving upward, on a mission to find skin.
"Please," Gerald whispers.
