Karloff stood there in the deep night. The darkness enshrouded his being just as much as it did his heart. It had not been long since his meeting with Terra Stryker and he found himself questioning his path. Where was he to go? What was he to do? There had been no hope for him since the night his mother died. But now, the only path he could take had been forever cut off from him.
Where could he go now? There was no refuge in the pelt of a skinwalker. He could not become one and forget, he had seen that. But what had happened had been his fault and the darkness was in him, struggling to release itself. He did not understand or embrace the cravings that ticked at the back of his mind. He was afraid, afraid of losing some kind of control deep within. He had wandered these many months, grown...found another mask to wear. Karloff was practically an adult but no wisdom came with his age. Just an impending since of doom.
He could not be saved, he was beyond that. What was left?
