Her Bloom Isn’t Red Anymore
Natzerohere i am once again torn into piecesa thorn that pierces meyou are the knife i turn inside myselfmy dream is already smeared with blood
She forced herself to stand taller, raise her hands, and let the fire taste her fear.
This time, it responded. The flames flared brighter, licking higher, though still jittering and unstable. Her scream tore through the room, raw and unbroken, and the fire obeyed, hissing and curling, licking along the monster’s limbs.
It shrieked, twisting and clawing at the air, black smoke curling from its skin as the flames hungrily consumed it. She stepped forward, reckless, reckless with rage and desperation, throwing every ounce of her fear into her attacks.
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