The Art Of Dying
The faces in the sand were screaming now, begging us to stay, to give in, to let the Sandman have us.
And then I saw him.
The Sandman himself.
He rose from the desert like a shadow given form. Tall, impossibly tall, with eyes that glowed like dying stars. His voice was the sound of wind over graves.
"You broke my world, little glitch."
He was looking at Mia.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Mia said, but I could hear the fear in her voice.
"You shattered the nightmares. Freed the prisoners. Defied my domain." He moved closer, and with each step, the temperature dropped. "I should erase you for that. But you're far too interesting."
Hot Chapters