The Howl

You keep shaking her, but she won't wake up. Something's wrong... She's never slept this long before. Neither have you. Glancing skyward, you see that there are no stars left. They've all burnt up without her, and heavens hang darkly, staring down like some all-seeing eye. With a deep breath, you reach underneath the cabinet, and pull out a glass jar wrapped in wire. You speak the words, and slowly remove the metal ribbon from the edge of the lid, causing the runes etched along it to burst with small motes of light. You've never released the Glasswing before. It was always her.
It feels like an age passes, but you slowly remove the butterfly without touching its wings. With shaking hands, you place it upon her lips, and wait. And wait. And wait...

It starts as a low whine, but then magnifies into a hiss, and then a scream. Before you can cover your ears, the sound is loud enough to shatter the glass jar, and sends you tumbling to your knees.

Oh god. You think. Did I do it wrong?

But the sound doesn't stop. You feel blood slipping between your closed fingers. The black mass above you descends, and the world begins to fade.
I'm sorry.

---

Anguish. Fear. Anxiety.

The Howl lives on with you.