My lips were pressed into a tight frown, my eyes solely focused on the body lying motionlessly on the bed. Her beautiful scarlet hair was nothing but a miserable pale black. Her skin was the colour of a corpse and her red lips were grey and covered with black scales, just like her body. The scales were hideous, slimy and slightly offensive to the nose. Her body was as cold as ice and her breath was paused. Scarlette looked dead but she was alive, barely.The faint sound of her heart was the only thing keeping her essence of life, though Cooper didn't believe that. He held onto her, weeping and wailing, begging that the goddess return her to him. I stared at her face, a torrent of emotions flooding my inside and leaving my heart a grieving mess, but I couldn't cry. I couldn't speak, I couldn't shout, I couldn't think of what to do.I knew she was sick. I begged her to go to her father. She assured us, she promised Cooper and I that she would. Hendrix told me she did. Why then did Coope
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