(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

She sighs as her arms twine around a body bedizened with scars, her limbs
serpentine and draped in diaphanous blue like the crests of the ocean. She
murmurs warm thanks into his ear, hot tears of relief and joy press against
his skin. She doesn't notice the chill of his heart, or how his icy blood pours
sluggishly through his veins.
The dagger slides deeper through flesh and parting sinew, and she embraces
the gesture, clinging to him, fingers digging deep into his flesh.
"I love you, Deionarra."
The barbed words snag her heart like the end of a hook.
Ashen time rains down on us in gray-white flakes, and the desolate ground
rumbles in its repose. They clamber from the pale wasteland: rotting shades
with skin of black smoke, talons thirsty for vengeance. Around us the forms
rise, arrayed in cloaks of ash and claws clicking with sharp corporeality.
Deionarra grows cold and light, fading in my embrace. Pallid skin and azure
gown brush against me one last time and vanish, like the touch of a fickle
breeze.
Somehow, that terrifies me even more.
"I will wait for you in death's halls, my love..."
The claws of the once-human beasts rattle against one another. Muted
footsteps drum to life their approach with cold, unyielding purpose.
ClickClickClickClickClickClickClickClickClickClickClickClickClickClickClickClick
The horror writhes inside me. My legs turn stiff, my belly churns and boils. I
do not want them to touch me.
Somewhere in the distance, I hear the cackling of an old crone as the shades
edge closer.
~~~~~
My eyes open to dull, brazier-lit room.
It had been one of those nightmares that would've had anyone bolting from
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