"Dolor Hic Tibi Proderit Olim..."

Pain.  Exquisite, and bloodthirsty, arced through me, fragments of my sanity holding onto an old Latin phrase I hadn't thought of in years...

Morituri...we who are about to die...

When the tears started, my clenched shut eyes tried to open, to see, even if it was just to invite death's embrace, and I knew this was not a dream, not a nightmare, nothing short of..what?  I could not complete my thought...

Terror vincit...Terror vincit...Terror vincit...

 

The phrase hammered me to my knees.  

Weak and almost completely beaten, I silently fought back the only way I could, thinking, "Vita, vita, via, veritas, vita...

 

The End

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