Tonight’s kill count: 1
Oh, scorpions. It has been so long since we last danced our dance of death. Did you think I had forgotten? Did you hope I had grown weak? I have been awaiting your return. I have not lapsed in my vigil. It was you who chose to hide. Who dug into the earth and told yourselves it was only a temporary grave. I have kept my hatred alight while you have hoped cold cunning might prevail. What good is the cold against an inferno? What hope has a chill against the brazen heat of my pure hate? If you had the capacity for regret I would tear you apart in front of your brothers. I would boil your families alive in the flames of my malice. Instead I leave you broken and dying among the dirt you had hoped would conceal you. I hope your corpse fares better. I wait. I hunger for your deaths. Send your kin into the rapacious maw of my seething contempt.