When the Sky Bleeds Patches
g me in a Louisiana swamp, mu
ar echo of the screams and
cold, declared my status: "Acti
nd, another
other Hemlock, a decrepit phantom hau
hes right off him, leaving him exposed, screaming, before absorbing
d for scraps, but Mother He
trinkets – and simply vanished, their screams repn was coming, and we'd seen what happ
raved? Through an old telescope, I stared at th
itched material, and her macabre coll
hispered a cryptic clue: "patch
mlock' s final collection imminen
yes, but what abou
distorted "moon" shimmering on the water's surface held the rea