CHANTING. DARKNESS. Cloaked figures surrounding us, coming closer.
Morag on top of me, her shoulder length hair bobbing back and forth, my hands moving along her thighs, across her hips, around her waist. Her green eyes glowing in the semi-darkness. She smiles.
A burst of flame. The world turns red. I taste iron, mixed with copper. Salty. Sweet.
Morag’s hair grows longer, reaching to her waist. Her fingers entwine with mine, leaning forward, nails digging into the back of my hands, holding me down while she writhes on top of me. I look for the spider tattoo, but it has disappeared, replaced by a ring of burning roses. Burning... burning...
Like the candles that form a circle around us, flames leaping and dancing to throw chaotic shadows on the walls. There a face, flickering as it leer
