"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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((Dorothy came back to the bad world.))

"Oh my god!"

Her hands were wrapped around her throat. There was no metallic shards stuck in her throat, and if the collar didn't count, nothing was out of the ordinary. She was just really sweaty and her body ached from laying down on a pew.

But the dream felt so real she had to make sure she was still in one piece. She patted her face, her neck, and her legs, and everything was there. No pain other than her irritated skin from the collar's rubbing and her back screaming at her for laying down in a bad position.

She painfully breathed in and out, feeling the air going inside of her and then exiting her lungs. She could still breath, so she assumed her lungs were in one piece too. She didn't gargle on her blood or choke on it so that was also a good sign.

She sat straight up, her hands on her mouth. The smell of death and blood wasn't there anymore, it smelled old but that was okay. She shuddered and started whispering behind her fingers,

"Oh my gosh, what the hell."
me by naft
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Happy Hour with the Deicide Squad · Crematorium Chapel