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Pride And Ashes A Werewolf Story

Hello darkness, 

my old friend, 

I have to talk to you 

again

Dancing.

Music.

The lights.

The smiles.

Laughter.

His touch.

His voice.

Him.

It's what holds me at bay as I work.

Alto Alto Alto.

I hold onto his memory.

Of that night when we first met.

Of the nights when we ate in the gardens.

When his words of poetry spoke to me.

How did it become like this?
How did the world end up with such darkness?
Twisting our souls so violently?
The week passed.

Again.

Another body.

Alto.

Alto.

Where are you.

I've seen wolfs go crazy.

But I never knew that you could go crazy from this.

Alto.

Alto.

Where are you.

Another body.

Three weeks.

Three weeks.

It can't get worse.

It can't get worse.

His voice.

His hands.

His smell.

What did Alto smell like again?
I can't remember.

I think back to our first kiss.

I wish I had kissed him more.

I wish I had held him more.

I sit at the desk, watching the slow bubbles rise as the flask burns.

I suddenly feel a pain in my chest.

Bending over I cough and cough, trying to regain my breath.

It must be the fumes.

I've inhaled so much now.

Weeks of being trapped in this room, closed and having the vapors rise to the ceiling.

It had made me sick this past week.

A different sick.

Not from the bodies in the corner.

I sigh as I regain my breath.

But then it's lost again as I take in my hands.

Take in the red substance that is on it.

I feel my heart stop and stutter, drop and grow heavier all at once as I look at the blood that is pooled onto my hand.

No.

No.

Alto.

Alto.

Where are you.

It can't get worse than this. 

And now we have come to a full circle. 

/////WORLD_JOY_/////

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