When the last dream forgets its dreamer, the thread returns to the spindle,
and the spindle remembers what the dream refused to become.
An elderly woman, her eyes have been removed from her face, where they were, now sits dark caverns, and from their depths seeps a thick blackness. Across her dark clothes she wears living eyes, still looking around, and bleeding as if plucked from a creature moments before.

Sleep, Prophecy, Nightmares, Fate
Alive