SEVENTY-FIVE | BLADE

The darkness abated slowly, the light streaking across my eyes like the first quivering rays of a sunrise. I forced myself to blink, my body unwilling to face the misery I knew, even in the abyss, would be present when I awoke.

I wasn’t dead, at least. That was something.

As harsh as it was to my eyes, the light in the room was dim. I wasn’t even sure that it was a room – it was cavernous, the walls cut into to make hollow spaces, within which gas lanterns burned. I couldn’t make out any windows, but it was dark outside, so they would be harder to see through blurry eyes, in any case.

I was surprised by my steady, rational thoughts, and then surprised by my surprise. I was a hunter, not born or bred but as good as. Rational thoughts in times of crises were par for the course; my recent over-emotional state had clouded my judgement, and was to blame for my being in this situation in the first place