Chapters of It

The woman sneered beneath her greasy tangle of hair, nicotine-stained fingers shaking and fluttering over the beaten table.

"You're not even human... You... you're... the death, the death, you're a plague. An it. It needs to get out of this house, out, out now, away. It needs to le...leave."

It stood.

It left to hide in its shadows, hoping its poison would leave the woman, knowing it wouldn't.

Everything here was stained with ash and dirt and the ghosts of the past. Everything was It's fault.

It was selfish. It didn't leave. Not yet.

The woman coughed violently.

The tiles were colored with blood again.