A beautiful monster spake the number. Death bingo. Treason’s talon pierced their union. A group of corpses rose briefly, rolled dice, fell dead again, butterfly. The mirror was where the living hid the way the did. Broken graves spilled light skyward where a circle wrapped around the blood. Hey, kid — pick that up. The gash, then. The color, running everywhere. Where they dropped her, lightning fell. Dire ransom. You won’t be able to resurrect the tempo. Limbo. His bone drum. Grim pulses where once the eyes glistened, shining.