It lingers in the corners, festering in the wounds of a childhood she’s tried to forget. It creeps through the caverns of her broken heart, mending the pieces in a patchwork of malice and rage, forging a barrier around her heart; a fortress too high, too thick, too long to see beyond.
The black fog spreads through the courtyard, the castle, the chambers.
Creating the illusion of power and invulnerability. She clings to the falsehood, spewing her venom, striking down any who dare cross her path.
But a lone arrow, dipped in the poison of truth, sails beyond the wall, slicing through the darkness, piercing the very wound of its birth.
A wail shatters the silence as the walls collapse in a torrent of memories, crushing her in an avalanche of rage and guilt and fear.
And still it lingers, sifting through the rubble, waiting for the next broken heart.