Where the Blood Lies

Previously

…He turned, his back to me, and walked towards the main entrance. He didn’t look back. He simply disappeared into the night, leaving me alone in the echoing silence of the mill. I stood there for a long moment, the journal clutched in my hand, the locket still somewhere in the room, a forgotten artifact of a past I was finally beginning to understand. I was alive. Scathed, yes, but alive. And the blood that lay spilled in my past, would, in time, become a foundation for a future I would build, thread by careful thread.