Act IV.

(Descent)

June 10th, 1880 – Fever Dreams

The nights are the worst. I am beset by dreams, monstrous shapes lurking in the corners, the jungle pressing in, vines writhing like serpents. I hear voices whispering in languages I do not know. Sometimes I see my mother, her face twisted with grief; sometimes I see George, his eyes black as midnight, accusing.

I wake screa…