Beatrice Beecham's Ship of Shadows
Edward’s mind was filled with terrible images, images of death and destruction, with creatures sculpted in forms that he could not fathom, impossible things, deadly things, and inside his mind they crawled like thousands of tiny spiders across his brain, through his brain, burrowing into the cavities, making the inside of his skull itch.
Edward tried to push these images away, but the thing oozing through his mind spoke to him, and its tone was one of mock-surprise.
“Do you deny that you have not sought this? Did you not dream of such things and place yourself at the helm of the designs of World’s End?”
Edward managed to stomp on his fear and confusion, his cold hatred seemingly at home in t
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