Ejected from The Rift torn and plagued with blood – barely intact but still readable.

“Silence they said. The child was hushed as he quietely snuck past their (parents?) room. It was dark - always was dark - but it felt darker this time.

His steps were lighter than an Avian - gliding over the crooked old floorboards as if the plague itself was behind him. His older brother simply held his hand - its’ missing fingers used to feel odd to him. Now, it was normal. Everything was normal. Everything was fine.

They kept going, kept roaming, and eventually they found their room. But it was too late: the light behind them had flicked on.

The purple glow wasn’t smiling.”