They came, in the darkness, through the darkness – they were the darkness. Hexes and sigils, carved runes on my door-jamb. I knew they were coming for me, knew they were hunting.
They bound me with curses, stole away in the night with my grimoire – but around my wrist I wear a bracelet of iron. I write on the walls, one-handed messages about the coming of angels, the coming of gods, about monsters you’ve never heard of. Prophets are bound, and those once-saints now madmen.
They came through, and now more are coming.
Written for this week’s Storydam prompt, Writing with one hand behind my back as well as one of this week’s BeKindRewrite prompts, Never Heard of. Comments and criticism always welcome!