With each turn of her words, she twists the knife a little deeper in your chest. Your eyes begin to flicker, you know so well the way they dance into corners when cornered, how they were always the softest part of you. She tricked you to take off your armor, lay it to the side and step into her jagged edges with nothing but bare skin against the blades. The apartment is cold, suddenly, you are tired when you shouldn't be.
Returns are fickle, recovery like a fun house mirror. You never know what version of yourself you'll see.
Never know which turn will have you
looking
at a monster in your stead.
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