Crimson Outcast
V. Ballarddream of bleeding eyesraindrops falling from my eyeslittle nightmares chapter 3dream of bleeding from mouth
But no answer comes back, only silence and the rustle of leaves.
Confused, I scan the green expanse around me. “What butterfly?” I mutter, anxiety prickling beneath my skin. There isn’t one—at least, not yet. But then, as if summoned by my words, a shimmer appears in the air. Blue and silver light coalesces, swirling and folding itself into delicate wings. Suddenly, before me, a butterfly materializes, impossibly vivid, its colors gleaming like polished gemstones. It hovers a few feet away, its movements graceful and deliberate.
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