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CynthiaDarkness. Barred windows and blood. Particles of dust languidly swimming in the pallid, grey twilight as it comes in columns through the windows of a long corridor. And the spiders. Women with long robes and habits betraying their role and the long, dripping black hair hanging beneath them. Faces obscured by masks and pupil-less eyes and still no faces when the masks are removed. And the little girls in white nightgowns, trapped in white prisons with only a small window in the door for the faceless to look in on them and the small slot through which meals are passed and a bed. And Cynthia.Cynthia by ~Led-Feather
Cynthia was special. Cynthia could see th
Grey and Gimble in the WabeThe ground was soft beneath his feet. It squelched and popped beneath the pressure of his determined stride, and sometimes crunched on a creature that hadn't been able to get out of his way quickly enough. Hadn't been able to, or hadn't wanted to—it was hard to tell, in a place like this. Barren, and yet alive in its own way. Wet, always wet, but with a sickly damp that worked its way into his clothes and his hair and his lungs. Flat and endless like an empty chessboard. In the distance stood figures that looked somewhat like trees, except they were too round, too perfect, like the tops of some ghastly fungus. If the man ever paused longGrey and Gimble in the Wabe by ~scarletbird
Sta.sh
