"Dantalion."
The name escaped my lips once more.
It was as if something clicked inside my mind.
The haze that had previously taken over started to fade, and images once more flashed across my mind.
An old book.
Flip, Flip—
Hurried flip of the pages.
Drip!
A red droplet.
One that stained the pages.
And, soon—
'H-help... p-please.'
'I... don't want to do this anymore.'
'Please help me.'
A voice.
One that sounded desperate.
Rushed.
Or to be more precise, like... mine.
Drip! Drip!
Even more droplets fell, staining the pages red.
All sorts of symbols appeared, but eventually, the pages stopped at a certain page.
'Y-yes, yes...'
The voice grew frantic, excited.
And then—
Driiip!
More blood spilled on the book... A hand reaching for the blood, pushing the book to the side, and copying the symbol on the wooden table beneath.
The hand shook as it copied, even more blood spilling on the table.
But the hand didn't stop.
