I Survived the Premature Burial
Nevermore. Nevermore. That inescapable word. Issued from a raven’s beak, spread across the only time and space you or I will ever know. An intimate betrayal you never saw coming. A loved one’s life cut short by disease, insanity, violence, some awful combination of all three. The echo of guilt distorts the survivor’s senses, the Id erupts with all manner of apparitions and cursed emblems. A black cat, a bleeding house, a corpse reanimated, but caught in the shrieking terror of its death throes.
