Twenty-six
Nia
There was someone following me.
I could feel it.
Hell was literally empty, and all of the devils were here. “Nia….” I heard someone calling me. It was a gentle caress, and a scratchy whisper at the same time. “Nia….” There’d been things that I’d done to survive.
I kept on seeing flashes of it. Me, in hell. I remembered the darkness. The smell of smoke. The screams. I remembered the Witch Doctor, leering over me as he cut into me a gain and again. “Fae halfing,” he’d say, “your blood can do things. Every bit of you is important. Imagine the atrocities that I can commit with it. Spring and Winter. Such clashing seasons. They shouldn’t go together. Bastard blood. Not as strong as heir blood, but still important.”
