Victimo.3:Quasimodo-4(第4/4页)
lpingfromanoasisspring,eachpulseofhisreleaseasurgeofvitalenergy.
Julian''''''''svisionwhitedout.Hisbodywasnolongerbeloohim—justavesselcapsizediorm,batteredbywavesofsensation,utterlyatthemercyofthetide.
Reyakepthereyesshut,watgthedimmingglowe,hisfadingessehroughhereyelids.
Shekneasinoguiltstirredwithinher.
Hewasn''''''''therfriend.Notanythingtoher,really.Andwhointhisworldwouldmournhim?
Hehadalwaysbeenanoutcast,ashadowslippingthroughthecracksofasocietythathadneverwantedhim.
Aliveordead,whowouldevennotice?
Andher—whatwasshe?
Acreatureofinstiheredfrommorality,drivenonlybytheraw,gnaulsihherskin.Whocouldjudgeher?Whohadtheright?
Justasthestemberofhispresenceflickeredtowardoblivion,footstepsechoedoutside.
Closer.Closer.
Julian''''''''seyesflewopen,wide,bloodshot,thewhitesstarkagainsthisashenface.
Hisgazedartedfromthegirlstilltchedontohimtothedoor,nowcreakingopen.