You drop the sword you were holding down into the abyss and reach out at the edge. You manage to grab a hold of one of the protruding thorns. The large spike is much sharper than the ones you used to scale the stem earlier and it cuts through your fingers as you try to maintain a grip. The searing pain is too much for you and you immediatly let go before it severs you fingers completely.
You tumble down to the bramble below, the rush of wind in your ears. Suddenly, your fall comes to a complete stop and you feel a sharp pain in your back through to your sternum. You look down and find that you have been impaled on a giant thorn. The sight of blood is too much for you and your mind starts to slip away. Everything gets really blurry and then the world goes black around you. Your last thoughts center around how much you now hate fairy tales.
THE END
Comments