Back at last. Been far away. Far, cold, horrid. The life I'd found - this life and body that I borrowed or stole - was clawed away from me. One morning I woke, and yet was not awake. A rod of iron lay across my chest and pinned me, and my eyes were gummed. my arms tangled with the sheets, that bound themselves wetly around me like sea fronds. A hammering thrust itself brassily amongst the cavities of my skull and brains, and shook everything to chaos.
Then I was lifted and flying through dark air. My eyes cracked and I saw myself gripped in the mottled claws of a monstrous crow, that beat heavily through this space that was cold and vast and yet was not sky. A cave, damp and black, with no walls and no ceiling, and no mouth.
I opened mine to speak, but my tongue filled it like a dead fish and sagged against my throat. My limbs were stiff, now burning with ice that crept up my legs and into the nooks of my arms. For the second time in my life, I was dead.
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