As if made of wax and molded into the bizarre creature that it is now, even with the guts out there is no smell or recognition, the once organs ashen looking as mere ropes now add to the picturesque image, a sculpture made of flesh and bones.
And yet how can I hit it any deeper than that with the uncertainty of where Ethan truly is… and killing him with my own hands would be devastating, even if accidentally, but on the other hand I did not have time for a surgical search, especially not kin of doing it either while the thing is 'alive' in the process.
"Ethan! Where are you?!" That's when it comes to me, after looking and shouting, a tingle of his energy, a feeling for the presence I've grown so used to over the years, as easy to recognize as the steps of a very own person on the hallways.
