Author's Note: This is the last chapter in this book/arc but not in the series. The next book is titled Wonders of Heresy and you can find it on my profile when it's posted.
The chapter's art is a birthday gift from 2018 by my very dear friend AceofIntuition, who is also my irreplaceable beta reader for future chapters.
Speaking of art, I have a lot available that I made and my friends made! Unfortunately, even after resizing, a lot of art wasn't allowed through Wattpad (and the ones that were as a result are not high quality). You can find art here:
For the series in its entirety/in general (spoilers abound): pipesfloweverandever.tumblr.com/tagged/hymns-art
For this book in particular: pipesflowforeverandever.tumblr.com/tagged/hos-art
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"For I wrote to you out of much affliction and anguish of heart and with many tears, not to cause you pain but to let you know the abundant love that I have for you." – 2 Corinthians 2:4
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There was no life to be found, but there were signs it once dwelled here.
The bag they fought over so passionately still held no impressions of her hands in its glaze, but it was joined upon the ground by things strewn where they never should be. One of the chairs was toppled over while two or more others had crept away as if they were taken aback by the terrible scene. The banjo's tightened lines touched the earth, the barrier of strings separating its surface from the flooring. As it lay unnaturally upside down, one of its roughened, metal tuning bits laid severed from the body to rest in front of Sammy's feet.
He stared ahead as he stood alone in the room meant for many.
Empty, empty, empty.
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Empty.
Her parted lips glowed with a gentle white as the woman remained kneeling in the trough of tar, gawking at her trembling hands and the light that emerged from them.
There were many things to consider after Bendy had left her alone with his blessing. The presence of a god swarmed her entire being and gave her what was long forgotten, leaving her motionless and thoughtless besides a single reflexive press of the thumb.
Her phone rested in between her fingers, somehow whole and functioning- somehow in her grasp once more. It retained no signs of her previous brutalizing, not of its flight through the office window nor of its drowning soon after. It was the same as it was before the dark water stole it and its master returned it to her custody.
Unfortunately, the same.
1%.
She awaited in sorrow for it die yet again. It was hopeless, not worth an attempt to answer the questions that agonized her; it would lead only to the sudden, cruel cessation of her search before anything of value came to be. It would have tortured her until...until...
She didn't want to think how long it could be till she came home.
She blinked, expecting it to turn black upon her return.
1%.
She blinked again.
1%.
She rested her eyes, knowing it would be gone soon.
ВЫ ЧИТАЕТЕ
Hymns of Struggle
ФанфикWhat's there to live for after you die? You struggle to exist- to make it all the way to your Lord- and all that greats you is Hell wrapped through your own flesh. Purgatory must be real after all. I pray and I pray and finally, something comes. If...
