Futility.

I had almost made it out of the well.

I had crawled from the depths, slipping and sliding and grazing my deathglow limbs on the dank and grimy walls. Blood of the most seductive red snaked and shimmered its way down my arms. I grappled with jutting rocks, elevating myself ever higher above the pool of icy black water into which i had been thrown. I could taste the sweetness of the fresh, new air. I longed to be dry and warm and safe.

But then he grabbed my foot. His rotting hand clasped my tiny ankle, and in the darkness i was overcome with the stench of decay. With astonishing force, he pulled me downwards into death. As i fell to my end, broken and lacerated, i wondered why.