บท 158: A maze of bones and death

For the most part, the fall is shorter than expected. Shorter, but not any less terrifying

I tumble through the darkness at speeds higher than I would care to admit, heading nowhere but down, the air constricting my breath in my lungs the deeper in I fall into the cold, bottomless abyss. It feels suffocating, as though being squeezed from out of my body at all angles, and cold, oh so cold. The degrees of the air falls by the minute as I plummet downwards, spiking my breath into plumes of billowing frost, and stiffening my limbs to leaden blocks of ice. But I have known worse in my days as an angel, for the skies have a similar disposition.

The skies, however, are clear and easy to navigate, and do not involve me falling into a blackened pit of death and horror to my eventual and inevitably grim demise. I suppose in fairness, that is quite a big difference.