The dead are with me, their sorrow and forgotten hopes like cavities in the ether. They know you. The dead may forget many things, their names, their loves, but someone like you, someone who has sent so many on before him, oh they can remember that. They hunger for you like a lover; they long to take you in an irreconcilable embrace. Perhaps the darkness will be satisfied then. I doubt it. I’ll still have much work to do to patch up these holes you’ve torn, but I don’t think you’ll be making any more of them where you’re going.
Consequences
Tale Told 