Marked By Hell
Flies rose in a black cloud and settled again just as quickly, indifferent to the living being added to their feast.
Elizabeth tried to speak. Her mouth opened, but only a rasp came out, shredded by fever and fear. The sky above the pit wavered and split, bright and impossibly far away.
Then they tipped her forward.
She fell.
Her body struck something soft first—yielding, awful—then rolled, colliding with limbs that bent the wrong way, ribs that did not move, flesh that gave under her weight and did not protest.
She screamed.
The sound tore from her chest without thought, raw and high, echoing strangely as it was swallowed by the pit. Her hands clawed instinctively, fingers sinking into fabr
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