…When she finally came back to herself, Brianna was lying face-down in a pool of blood.
The blood was cold and slick, thick and rank.
Her head was tilted to the side, her cheek half-submerged in it; when she cast her eyes downward, she could see her own body stretched out below her — like a long dead snake, utterly still.
Jacqueline, the one she had so carefully cherished and protected, was gone from the room.
All that remained was the dark, viscous blood that had pooled out of the dead — spreading across every inch of the floor.
And great smears of it, flung together with shredded flesh, viscera, and severed limbs, plastered across the walls; the shapeless, bloody masses were slowly sliding down through the dark — like some malevolent, alien creatures crawling toward her inch by inch.
This was the Nest. Even if severed limbs actually did turn into crawling things, it wouldn't be strange.
It didn't matter. None of it mattered anymore.
