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She drove the carving knife directly into the center of it, shattering the glass which encased the compass needle. She pushed the knife into it even further, trying to open it from the outside, as glass clattered to the floor. She had broken her most precious keepsake so her wish would be granted. There had to be something within it, something which would point her in the right direction, and all this time she truly believed she lacked the courage to find it. Now the power of the compass would become hers!
"Come on, just a little bit more," Quincy said, trying to remove the needle from the center.
That was when the whole world seemed to come to a standstill. She kept trying to shimmy the knife in deeper until she could no longer move. She held her breath out of fear. She felt an immense pressure of heat, an overpowering presence of some sort. Her eyes followed the glowing light of the compass as it had risen from where she had shattered it on top of the wardrobe.
It began to burn brighter with heat and light. The metal that comprised the compass began to turn red-hot until it was molten white, superheated from the concentrated energy flow. She watched in awe as the compass reassembled itself after having been broken to pieces. The chains Quincy once wore around her neck began to move fluidly on their own, and the white-hot links wrapped themselves around that of her wrist and left hand as she cried out in excruciating pain.
The molten metal melded with flesh as it began to sink beneath her skin. It felt as if her very hand was being torn apart and was melting to pieces. The sharp, unbearable pain was indescribable. Sparks began to fly from the burning compass as it flew closer toward the palm of her left hand. Quincy believed she was going to die. She could not breathe. She felt as if she were being burned alive from the inside out as her body became irradiated with the unbearable heat. The compass seeped into the scalding wound which had been gouged into her hand.
"Come on, just a little bit more," Quincy said, trying to remove the needle from the center.
That was when the whole world seemed to come to a standstill. She kept trying to shimmy the knife in deeper until she could no longer move. She held her breath out of fear. She felt an immense pressure of heat, an overpowering presence of some sort. Her eyes followed the glowing light of the compass as it had risen from where she had shattered it on top of the wardrobe.
It began to burn brighter with heat and light. The metal that comprised the compass began to turn red-hot until it was molten white, superheated from the concentrated energy flow. She watched in awe as the compass reassembled itself after having been broken to pieces. The chains Quincy once wore around her neck began to move fluidly on their own, and the white-hot links wrapped themselves around that of her wrist and left hand as she cried out in excruciating pain.
The molten metal melded with flesh as it began to sink beneath her skin. It felt as if her very hand was being torn apart and was melting to pieces. The sharp, unbearable pain was indescribable. Sparks began to fly from the burning compass as it flew closer toward the palm of her left hand. Quincy believed she was going to die. She could not breathe. She felt as if she were being burned alive from the inside out as her body became irradiated with the unbearable heat. The compass seeped into the scalding wound which had been gouged into her hand.
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