Game 2Game 2 Outline| Game 2 |
Game 2 Outline |
The cold rain fell on her thin shoulders as the chill night air stung like the sharp end of a recoiled clock spring, which she was, as ready to pounce upon provocation as an animal, whose resemblance she was bearing more and more with the passing phases of moon. The moon served as a punishing master, her payment for trust in a stranger, a past lover on the streets. He had told her to run! He had warned of transformation and other such horrors, myths in her eyes ... Aaaaahhhh, how foolish she had been, how painfully naive ... But she knew now. Now it was horribly clear. At her lover's bite, she was transfigured. He had died so long ago, out of shame. He left her to live on. Alone. Bitterly alone, to bay at the rising moon.
Written by a.a.brown (edited by wanderer)