User blog:Stormlilly/VII. Lips part, and out come words...

Words that drift around the antechamber like a death sentance.

"Why? Who are you? What are you?! What did you do to my friends?!! What did you do to me!?"

Your voice echoes, angry and insatiable. The figure does nothing, save for rattle its head from side to side - in apparent discomfort. You feel a cold, vicious malice well up inside of you - a malice that is beaten back by fear, as the creature falls upon you in a bloodlust, wailing incomprehensibly.

Despite it's small size, it's limbs are very strong. Despite the anger you felt earlier, you can't seem to find the strength to fight back -

Your shoulder itches, and you realize to a deteriorating sense of horror - of a deteriorating sense of anything - that the skin has begun to crack, ever so slightly. Something venemous is in your very blood - and as you lose consciousness, you realize that whatever chance of removing it you had - or of any kind of escape - is long since past.

Then, your eyes part and you lose sense of feeling and *grow*.

BAD END