[🎶 (I Just) Died In Your Arms – Komodo.]
RAFEL HEARD ECHOES in the blackness. It was a voice he didn't recognize, words that were too shrill and somber to make sense of. He could not tell how he had entered this world of utter dark, but he was in it. However, in the foggy depths of his psyche, he knew this realm of deep shadows could only be brought about by deep-rooted tragedy. He was floating, a wisp of an Aspen leaf, in a realm of chaos magic.
Briefly, in the macabre void, he called to mind a disturbing conversation he had once with a garrulous [Reaper] by a pub's dirty alley. He had been leaning by a cracked brick wall, listening to sounds of hard sex in the adjoining brothel and trying to look older than his sixteen years—at that time.
He ignored at great length the invitations of cow succubi from the storey above. By this time, Israfel had seen his fair share of motherly bosoms, courtesy of his dear, dear aunt.
