THE penitent man was often prone to long silences, and that was still the case as he entered the house through a side door, quiet as he moved through the house to look the surprising companion he had made. It was the first visit he made that he couldn’t hear her echoing through the empty home, and that set his nerves on edge.
“Sally?” He called into the darkness as he entered the grand staircase. “Sally, are you here?”
Terrible pain, cold everywhere… not a thousand blankets would have been enough to stop the mad shivering of Sally’s body sprawled out on her bed. This had to be the reason why junkies all over the world ( and since the beginning of time ) chose to stay hooked up, no matter how much pain and suffering addiction brought upon them. The runway blonde however, had no saying in the matter. Nausea had stopped, thank god; Sally didn’t think she could survive another round of puking her insides out yet knowing she was alone in the middle of nowhere wasn’t helping her calm down… until her ears caught up a voice calling out from the darkness, so close to the room she had claimed for herself.
A loud whimper, that’s all her flickering strength was able to produce — a pained, miserable cry for help that would hopefully lead Ambrose upstairs… right where he was needed the most.