The bell stopped ringing. There was a moment of silence, and then a woman shrieked. It came from everywhere, pouring out of the sunny, mote-laden air like sweat out of hot skin. It was a scream of outrage, anger, grief … but mostly, I think, of horror. And I screamed in response. I couldn’t help it. I had been frightened standing in the dark cellar stairwell, listening to the unseen fist thump on the insulation, but this was far worse.
Source: Bag of Bones ▫𓂃
(echo:: @ ⌗)