Waking up wasn't a return.
It was a fall.
He opened his eyes—or what he thought were eyes.
There was no light. No warmth. Nothing that hinted at life.
Just shadows moving like heavy clouds, and a smell as if something had died here... then was extracted... then died again.
His body was heavy, coated with something sticky, as if his skin hadn't finished growing.
He tried to stand, but his limbs wouldn't obey. He wasn't even sure how many he had.
Then he saw her.
At first, he thought she was just clumped shadows.
Then her features began to form with the pulse of his scrambled mind.
A woman...?
No. That couldn't be.
She was old, yes.
But she wasn't human.
Her skin was pale gray, cracked like a mummy left a thousand years in the void.
Her right eye glowed red, while the left… was just a hollow socket.
Twisted horns grew from her forehead like charred roots.
And her breath… it was so foul the very air seemed sick.
