Drip. Drip. Distantly, the sound of water drops can be heard. One, two, three.The faint drumming of the droplets against metal drones on, and on, and on; a dreadful lull behind closed eyelids. Someone must have forgotten the faucet. With every patter, the visions stir. Drip. A knife. Long, carefully sharpened, a black marbled hilt adorned with a red jewel at the end. She's never seen this knife before. Dri...
