Abysmal. Horrific. Sheer torture. These are the only fragments I could conjure to generate a summary of my time spent in the Crypts. Blood curdling screams seared through the silence of solitary confinement. Every day of my life there trudged by like an agonizingly slow death, perhaps a huntsman wretchedly carving my heart out. But my heart felt more like it was being torn to shreds turbulently. However, it seemed to last forever, eternal punishment. Every day without my precious Lena was like a sunset without a misty moonrise to follow. I spent hours reviewing images of her in my head; Lena; laying in the sunlight while I told her she was beautiful, Lena; sobbing with longing for her mother, who made an engraving so deep she was able to escape the Crypts, Lena; telling me she loved me. This vicious cycle persisted.
In that moment of tragic separation, I screamed for Lena to run. Knowing Lena and her determined soul, she most likely ran until she couldn't hear the echo of the remnants of my words singing their single command in her mind. Run. Even if I died, I wanted her to live. I desired a life for her where she could be free to love anyone she wanted, and act upon her own conscience, not the by the burden of loneliness aroused by the life of the cured. But I don't want her to fall in love just yet, not if there's hope of me finding her first. My head constantly feels submerged, underwater. If I don't come up for air soon I'll be gone. But I can't breathe until I see Lena again. By now, she could be anywhere, right at my fingertips, or another millennium away. Raven has allowed me to take shelter in the warehouse until we prepare to migrate to Connecticut. This could take me closer to Lena, or further away, depending on how much optimism I allow myself. But if I can't take a leap of faith, I'll never find her again. I remain restless; every thought of Lena lingers hysterically; summoning rainfall from my eyes. Tack and Raven informed me that a girl crossed over and wants to know information about her mother, who apparently had inhabited a cell in the Crypts for years. They say she's ecstatic with her newfound life, and has already found love after she lost it once. I don't buy it for a second. After hearing her story, there's no way anyone could resolve to that default after what she's been through. Hindmost pondering whether I should join their group of Invalids, I conspired to come along with them. I doubted I'd be much help to the girl, though. The Crypts strictly prohibit you to interact with any other prisoners; hence, I didn't exactly meet any new friends.
Footsteps creaked on the aged wooden flooring like a melancholy song. I gyrated to find Raven propped up against the wall, black hair pulled back severely.
"The girl is awaiting your arrival." She lamented. I began to stride to the anterior of the door; and peered wordlessly at the mesmerizing woman who stood broken and withered form war before me. Every bone in her face is sharp and defined, accompanied by her hypnotic green eyes. Her delicate frame stiffened when she locked her eyes in congruence with my gaze. My puppet limbs command me to stumble backwards. My blood ripples inside my veins, threatening to pull me into nonexistence. Icy fingers claw at my heart, attempting to puncture it. Every time I defy my silent oath not to look back, I am left with burn marks, as if from a smoldering ember. I try to induce any miniscule reason that I am hallucinating. Just one excuse for why I see Lena, Lena with her arms around the waist of another man.
