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Magic #217

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Terror gripped the old brigands insides. His heart beat wildly as the Witch made him turn. Behind him, the burnt remains of his band lay on the ground. Burned and curled in obscenely unnatural ways.

The terror, clamping his insides, also held his mind in its fierce grip. Blinding him, hiding time; granting him brief glimpses of trees passing by as his body ran and his mouth screamed shivering madness.

Finally, body exhausted, Boris collapsed in the arms of an old oak tree where the madness left him. Leaving behind exhaustion that leaked the marrow from his bones, and mind.

3 comments add one below

  • avatar

    Christopher 12 months ago

    I was going to say he was the lucky one, but now I think maybe the others were the lucky ones.

  • avatar

    Jeff Taylor 12 months ago

    Minerva did just toast almost his entire band, and a giant blue chicken ghost tore two of them to pieces. One right in front of him. Yeah... I think someone will have a nasty dose of PTSD after that encounter.

  • avatar

    Christopher 12 months ago

    I concur.

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