Bloody Gift

In the ruins of the zombie rule, she is the coldest king. A human came to me—the girl with a stubborn look in her eyes, like the last flower in the apocalypse. I forgot how to beat my heart, but I learned to hug her. I put my only weak point into her palm and said, "This is my life." She smiled and kissed me, but her fingertips touched my pulse. The rose blooms at the end of time, and the thorn pierces the heart of the giver. This is a taming that begins with pity and ends with a massacre of lies. "Idiot," she let go of her bloody hand, her voice as soft as the first encounter, "who would love a monster." And I just laugh. It turns out that every heartbeat she gave was timing the final execution. ——The love you send me is a knife stabbing my throat