Some I've killed.
The fire speaks with many tongues, telling stories of what was, and what will be.
It whispers the name I've tried to forget.
My name is Legion: for we are many.
The flames rise higher, consuming flesh, and bone, and memory.
Nothing escapes the fire.
Not innocence.
Not guilt.
Not love.
Especially not love.
I am the archangel with the sword.
I am the beast with the horns.
I am the watchers with sealed beaks.
I am the skulls in their bone court.
I am the hands reaching through flame.
I am all of them.
For we are many.
CHAPTER 12
Someone's shouting.
No—several someones.
The sound filters through the thin walls, bounces down the hallway, seeps under the door. Voices rising and falling like waves crashing against rocks.
Angry waves.
Urgent waves.
Down below, a bike is revving.
Then another.
Doors banging.
Voices.
With the pillow now over my head, I burrow deeper into the mattress, trying to escape the noise and the light filtering through the blinds.
My head is pounding. Last night wasn't exactly wild, and I didn't drink much, but my crazy life is catching up to me and I'm desperate to go back to sleep.
But it’s so fuckin’ hot in here. Did the AC give out?
