Status: " ."

i remember, now, why i ran out onto the road.

it was the night Lilith came to my room.

she didn't just appear on my bed, speak to me, and leave. i was wrong about all of that, like i've been wrong about a lot of things. she didn't say anything to me at all.

she killed me.

i woke up, naked, with a knife plunged through my sternum and her straddling me. when i screamed, she calmly pulled the knife out and walked through the wall. she didn't even look me in the eyes.

the elevator button marked for "woods" has been bothering me ever since i first saw it. even after all of this bullshit, it's just too weird. i can't tell you why. i just know i've been itching to press it since i first saw it, however many visits/entries/years ago, and now i finally have the chance.

as i walk through the halls, the overhead lights blink off one by one behind me. something heavy is dragging against the walls, and for some reason, whenever i blink, all i can see is this horrifying spiral of teeth down a massive throat. i grind my teeth and keep walking at a quick clip, ignoring the burn in my hip or how i stumble and stutter, until i reach the elevator.

it's still open, and when i step inside, my baseball bat is leaning against the railing. i wrap my fist around the familiar smooth wooden handle and then jab my thumb against the "woods" button. the elevator dings and slides shut. i close my eyes and count to ten. twenty. thirty.

i felt no motion, but the door dings again, and when i open my eyes i'm peering out at pine trees. i can hear wind and the soft patter of rain. i step off. the doors glide closed, and when i look over my shoulder, the elevator is nowhere to be seen. i'm standing in the dark in a pine-needle-covered clearing. rain, cool and soft, slaps against my arms and cheeks, but the full moon glows bright overhead in a cloudless sky.

Rabbithead is standing across from me, about six feet away. between us is a rectangular pit, about six feet deep. piles of dirt are built up on either side, and a rusty shovel has been discarded, the metal end pattering as raindrops strike it. the air is rich with the scents of freshly turned earth and petrichor.

"are you real?" i ask. Rabbithead sways and presses a hand over the hole in her chest. "yes, you." she shakes her head. "was Montag real?" a nod. "is Silvia real?" a more frantic nod. her ears flop, silver in the moonlight. "is this Montag's dream?" she shakes her head. "is it Silvia's?" another shake. i pause. "is it mine?"

she raises a cracked hand and points to something just over my shoulder. i turn. the shadow figure is standing between two tall pines.

"you've been protecting me," i say, the last syllable tilted up into a half-question. Rabbithead nods, and so do i. i toss my bat into the pit. i yank at the sand pouch around my neck, snapping the cord, and throw it in too. then i walk, one, two, three, nine little steps around.

i put my hand over Rabbithead's decimated heart, and lace one of her ruined hands with mine. the acrid tang of asphalt burns in my nose, and beneath that is the salt and brine of the ocean.

as one, we tip into the grave.

the last thing i see is the moon, blotted out by the shadowy branches of a hand.