Alaric Voss stirred slightly in her lap, making her dead heart pound with hope.
She caressed his face gently, trusting that the love in her touch would tell him that it was her. "I'm here, Laric," she said, trying to be strong. "I'm so sorry this happened."
"Me too," he croaked, and at the sound of his voice she almost jumped for joy.
"Alaric, it's me!" she giggled, though tears still altered her tone. "It's me, your Dira. Tell me you remember me, please!"
"Why wouldn't I remember you?" he grunted, opening his eyes. They flickered at her and he smiled. She smiled back. His expression faded as he looked around the room, formerly gray, now almost entirely red.
"What creature could possess this much blood?" he muttered in astonished disgust.
"Oh, I think I know," she said. "I hope you won't be upset with me. I made a little mess."
It was the understatement of the century, and even she knew it. The walls, floors, and ceiling were covered with blood and gore.
