The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-24 08:11:53 -

The Wistful Petal

The frost was thick enough to crack under the boots, but the mud beneath was still warm, a sick, wet heat that smelled of iron and rot. "Stop it, Elias. Just stop." I did not stop. My service knife was buried to the hilt in the soft earth, the blade trembling with the effort of prying up the root system of the Wistful Petal. It was a crimson thing, ugly and pulsing, its veins thick with a fluid...

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