I follow death like a loyal servant. Never leading, always following. I step over the bodies of those touched by the icy grip. It has always been this way. Never to be the target, only to walk in deaths wake. I try pushing past hoping to meet it's gaze and end this curse. But, it never let's me pass. So here I shall remain. Never able to see the next victim until it's too late. I try holding on, digging in my heels, hoping to slow it down. But it never loses speed. Forward it continues with me trapped behind. Never leading, always following. I scream warnings to those ahead, praying they will move. But they never hear me. I can still hear them scream as death claims it's prize. Still see their faces frozen with emotion. Loved ones, friends, strangers. All claimed by this cloaked necro. And here I remain. Never leading, always following.
