She lost herself in a different memory.
It was a memory like all the rest, only more dreadful.
No… no, there was something wrong with this one.
There was something dangerous about this one.
Something that told Cassie that she should have never witnessed whatever the memory hid — should have never experienced what the original owner of the memory had experienced.
But it was already too late, because she was already remembering it.
In that memory, she was a broken thing.
Hidden behind a veil, her face was exquisitely beautiful. However, beneath the red fabric of her dress, her lower body was a twisted horror of inhuman flesh.
The things that hid beneath her skin, meanwhile, were ever more dreadful.
She was mad.
