Symptoms: Sunda and Everything After.
The alley seemed to extend infinitely above them. Tracing out only a starless patch of black that passed for the sky. [Someone whispers arabic into her ear...] A strange memory sprawled across bedoin sands, before the clawed digits wrap around her ankle.
I can't shake these fucking dreams.
I can't.
I look down into John's face. And as he speaks I hear Sunda's voice [You should have been -my- childe] The tension travels into the callouses of his grip. He feels my weariness and mistakes it for fear.
"I treat you like family"
"Do you fear me?"
"You don't know my family."
So much of John is gone. Its hard to remember where the promise of everything left off, and where the demon begins. [Focus. Focus.] I shake my head, approaching him like the childe he should should have been. These days I take comfort in nightmares.
"You don't need to fear."
"Let me show you were you'll be sleeping."
He follows. "You mean I don't have to take dirt naps?"
-----
Driving back from Harford Hawthorne and Sunda laugh. Something about a one-eyed midget, and really I don't want to know. My valient coterie's shared despair: They can't drink beer anymore. From the front passenger seat i stare through the glass window, watching the familiar blurr of trees fly by.
"There's something I need to speak to you two about."
Silence greets me.
"The operation has been compromised...."
I can't shake these fucking dreams.
I can't.
I look down into John's face. And as he speaks I hear Sunda's voice [You should have been -my- childe] The tension travels into the callouses of his grip. He feels my weariness and mistakes it for fear.
"I treat you like family"
"Do you fear me?"
"You don't know my family."
So much of John is gone. Its hard to remember where the promise of everything left off, and where the demon begins. [Focus. Focus.] I shake my head, approaching him like the childe he should should have been. These days I take comfort in nightmares.
"You don't need to fear."
"Let me show you were you'll be sleeping."
He follows. "You mean I don't have to take dirt naps?"
-----
Driving back from Harford Hawthorne and Sunda laugh. Something about a one-eyed midget, and really I don't want to know. My valient coterie's shared despair: They can't drink beer anymore. From the front passenger seat i stare through the glass window, watching the familiar blurr of trees fly by.
"There's something I need to speak to you two about."
Silence greets me.
"The operation has been compromised...."