The girl merely grinned; not evilly, but in an amused way.
“You really don’t know?” she asked softly, her voice adopting the sick, twisted tone from moments earlier. Aubrey was fighting it, but everything that had happened-
She was dying.
Her breathing was ragged, tears slipping down her face. The Possessor, finally making a true appearance, slipped out from one of Aubrey’s bleeding wounds, ink-black seeping out, her body falling limp to the ground. The Possessor, made of shadows that seemed to be dripping, oozing a thick black substance similar to tar. It practically slithered out of the wound until it made itself up- it was almost eight feet tall, with long, bony arms, that went out to pointed, skinny fingertips, that reached out, grabbing Abyss by the chin and staring at him. It had no eyes, no face rather, until the blinding white smile that Aubrey had seen spread upon its face, so big that it reached where its cheekbones would be, had it been human.
“I want every single one of you dead.”
It whispered, past the devilish smile, before vaporizing into the air.
-=-
Aubrey was on the ground. The cold, cold stone ground. She was bleeding from her stomach, where the blade has hit her, and the cut from earlier had reopened, on her cheek. She was bruised in every spot of her skin, and it looked like her wrist was broken.
The reaction she would have when she learned Abyss did this to her was unimaginable.
She was unsure if she should fight death or accept it, but she was damn near accepting.
