DragonNightTiger

Two weeks later… Garrett’s head was pounding. He brought the half empty bottle of scotch to his lips, closing his eyes in an effort to block out the room that swayed and spun around him. Not since his youth had he been quite so drunk--but since he was still standing, it was his opinion that he was not drunk enough. He had imagined that once he was free of the curse he would be at peace. He had sat awake most nights, fantasizing about how his existence would improve once the invisible chains that had bound him into a monster were broken. Yet in the days and nights since the curse had been lifted he felt no sense of relief, no joy at his newfound freedom. Sorrow was all he knew, a misery far worse than the private hell he had been living in for over a decade. Since Beth had left Blackmoor Castle, Garrett had wandered the halls aimlessly, not knowing what to do with himself or how best to push down the unrelenting ache in his chest. As he stood in the early morning light of the empty