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through the cracks of the roof turned to thundering rain and howling winds. There were even a few snowflakes that found their way inside during the winters.
Utah could get very cold in those long winter nights, and initially William had thought it strange that he felt none of it. It should be a painful, biting cold, but all he felt was absence.
He didn’t even feel his own corpse decay, fall apart and be eaten by the various scavenging creatures that occasionally roamed the abandoned building.
Physically, he felt nothing at all.
He should think it a blessing considering his circumstances, but all it did was make him feel incomplete and hollow.
How strange, now that he achieved what he’d wanted for so long, it felt more like a curse than salvation. He couldn’t even sleep to escape his reality anymore, the shadows now taunting him louder than ever.
What have I been thinking?
Was this really what I was working towards this whole time?
For a moment, he dared reflecting on the past.
I bet he’s happy that I’m not ruining his life anymore.
It’s been such a long time since they’ve actually spoken to each other. The memory of how Henry’s fist had connected with his jaw that day was still vivid, despite all the time that had passed since.
I wonder what he’s up to? Is he even alive still?
William had lost all sense of time. It’s been so long, he’d even lost track of how many winters had already passed. For all he knew, he could have sat through a hundred of them by now.
He began to wonder for just how long he could remain in this state. If even this body disintegrated, where would his spirit go? Would it be free? Or lost and scattered amongst the dust?
Watching himself decay further and waiting for something to interrupt his voiceless soliloquy was all he could do. He hated it, this helplessness, the isolated void. Neither spirit nor person had ever returned, nobody had dared look for him after what he’d done and the lengths he’s gone to shut everyone out.
He supposed he got what he deserved for messing with forces beyond his understanding. Skewered like vermin and left to rot in the very same suit he’d used to extinguish the lives of others all those years ago.
A pathetic death for a pathetic man, he thought bitterly.
Now the outside fits the inside. Hollow from rot. How ironic.
Time had lost all of its meaning, drowned out by dreadful whispers from the shadows and a hazy fog of bitter nostalgia, but it must have been around summer when he was torn from his thoughts by the unmistakable echo of footsteps.