Five Four.. Three Two One Sometimes when I shut my eyes. I can see figures dancing behind options that lay before all. Every choice. Every breath. Every beat of a bloodpusher. The draw of breathe of one's last.. It was something that I was already familiar with it. The way that someone shifted their weight across their feet. The way they spoke in hushed tones. The way that all abide by the rules of the living. If I shut my eyes, The sound as their blood flowed from their bloodpusher throughout their body made it easy to picture where every organ was. If you focused yet again. You could the string of life that bounds all that live. If you tug at it enough, it would snap. Snap without another movement besides pulses as all dies as the thread is gone. That was something I wondered about. Decay had a different scent depending on the cause. The many whys and hows were never to be answered. It wasn't something that others noticed was what I noticed. The feeling of a thread snapping made all to quiet. The hurry of one in panic being exhausted suddenly felt empty. What was life if that ended? That became my focus for the next several sweeps. The results were unsatisfying. It was of no point. I just.. then accepted that there was nothing more to do. It was alive and that was it. There was no one I met that quite understood what I meant. It was fine. It's okay within the end. Just - free writing > #writing #gore #horror