THEY CALL US ROGUES
Dead. Almost all the way through, Dimitri feels dead. There’s nothing left for him to feel, and maybe that’s the worst part of it all. Maybe that’s why he hurts as much as he does. He’s wanted so badly all this time to feel something for someone. He’s wanted so badly for someone to give him a reason to feel something. He wants to feel something for another living creature—the soft flicker of a friendship, maybe. Delta was gone. Mom was gone. It was clear that there was no one left to love. Even the friend that he’d been fond of in ways that were maybe more extreme than he should have… he was gone too. They all left him.
Dimitri was the only one left, or at least, he felt that way. It was an ugly feeling, a sick feeling welled up in his gut… wolves were pack animals, and he hardly even had a home. It was in the light of day that he walks the halls of Iromar. Since the death of the damned king himself everything had been quiet. Too quiet. Dimitri ached as he moved, the loneliness nearly eating him alive. That’s what this was—a vicious, lonesome circle. No matter what he wound up alone. No matter what he wound up cold, by himself, with on one there to stand beside him. That was the worst feeling of all.
So he stood and looked out over the swamp itself. They’d said an alligator ate Baphomet. Maybe it’s Dimitri’s wish that one of the true kings of the swamp snaps out and eats him too.
EXthey won't know you now |