The last thing I can remember, apart from the icky feeling of turning to goo, is that kid’s face. He looked kinda troubled. As if killing me was some sorta issue for him. Surely not. I mean who’d cry for a bastard like me? Hmm, maybe Martel would, but that’s beside the point.

Oh well, no big deal right? I’m okay. I’m here. Wherever here is. Stupid ( Read more... )