The earth is careening straight down the tracks to hell and the humans are at fault.
Trapped in the dungeons of an ancient burial grounds and tortured to the brink of insanity, the God and Goddess of balance have been separated, unleashing a terrib...
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New Delhi insisted on cremation of infected patrons.
Though the constitution of burial is gone in this world for a large part because of the death toll, it didn't seem fitting to stick Theron's body in a giant furnace and walk away like it nothing happened.
My ears have been ringing for two days straight.
Not the blurry sound someone processes through after an explosion, but the infernal flatline haunting me. The damned noise plagues me, ailing me worse and worse as Remi continues to ignore my existence in the flat.
Meika had been right when she'd told me I'd regret it, but it was his dying wish after all. Spare her the pain of his final moments, take him before an agonizing death did.
Her sobs bounced off the walls in the night, but all I could hear is the damn ringing.
The accommodations given to us were kind and not shabby. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms and a kitchen with working appliances, no matter how finicky or mediocre. A blessing to those without previous experience.
Meika and I had been sharing a bed while Dan and Remi picked their rooms. Soon enough, they would have the house to themselves while we went off to find Lindon anyway.
My feet knead into the carpet and flex outwards, feeling the soft, fraying fabric. An older, barely singed couch is beneath me, soft vinyl wearing in specific patches.
The crying had started up again about ten minutes ago, though muffled this time. Her face is likely buried into a pillow this time. We're in the home alone, with the other two running errands of their own. Food and supplies, clothing. Desperate things we needed and nothing we had the luxury of in months.
For me; years.
Daniel unlocks the door and walks in with a bunch of bags, nodding at me and setting them down on the counter top. "I found some food," he sighs, wiping sweat from his forehead.
He listens for a little bit longer before hearing the cries and wincing.
Going to shut the door, I watch as Daniel mechanically takes care of everything. The death weighs on him, I see it. But every time he comes close to feeling anything, the boy finds something else to busy himself with. This time it was going to the store, next will likely be showering again.
Some form of upkeep is generally the most useful.
The only good thing coming from it being his lack of anger towards me.
"Are you hungry?" I ask calmly, trying to keep my attention off of the broken-hearted girl's room.
He shakes his head and comes to sit beside me. "No, not really."
We don't say anything else for a while, looking around uncomfortably as the cries grow louder and louder. Remi is a literal sobbing mess. Every now and then, my brain considers the chance of her torturing me intentionally. Punishing me until I have the balls to do something about it.
