By her late twenties, she had already abandoned Christianity and flirted with then shunned Buddhism. They held no solution to her deep, dark terrors. She was, she believed, alone in a godless, meaningless and terrifying universe. Nothing, not even fear, mattered.
Thus, she found herself ready to face her fears, her demons, her tunnels under Kendal.
Finally she was ready to face the darkness under her town.
That was how she found herself crawling alone in the dark on a chilly spring morning. It had not rained for days, so she had opted to explore the tunnel where Blindbeck, now just a trickle of water, disappeared under the streets.
After only a few moments in darkness, she heard a shrill fluttering. Seconds later, tiny wings and claws scratched against her face. It was gone as suddenly as it appeared and she was alone in the darkness again. She crawled onwards.
And onwards, and did not return.
And onwards, and did not return.
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