“Marked? What are you talking about?” I look all over my exposed skin. When I don’t find anything I lift my shirt while walking to the standing mirror in the corner of my room. I let a gasp slip. Starting from my right shoulder and ending at my belly button a bruise spirals down my body. Or not a bruise… It’s gray. Like the remnant of a shadow. I rub at it gently with a finger. Beneath my finger an icy chill erupts, spreading the entirety of the mark. It feels… hollow. Cold. Foreboding.
World building
Least Favorite Part
