ecstasy | corpse husband

chapter 7.

she gets a nod in response, confirming what she already knew. she could only be relieved it wasn't actually mason. 

"and those maniacs downstairs? the thing in the alley?" a distraught crease forms between her eyebrows. "what aren't you telling me?"

a small part of her can't help but feel like it all started when he found her, but that rationale doesn't make sense in the grand scheme of things. It was whatever came out of those trucks at midnight. terrorists, or something else.

she wraps her arms around herself and grips her sleeves with her hands. a chill travels through her, but it isn't drafty inside. he holds her stare and she shivers, pinning it to the cold of the room. "I don't know what that was," he says.

"you have to know something," she argues. 

he seems strained to say his next words. "there's...something off about those people. something freaky." that much she can follow. "they're attacking people but not with guns. they move so fucking fast—abnormally fast. and the sounds they make..."

the memory of the distorted whispering from the alley makes goosebumps rise across her skin. none of this is normal.

"It all started at midnight. why?" she wonders aloud.

the stranger—she hates referring to him as that; they've been through so much already, but he won't give her a name—takes his phone out of his back jean pocket. "maximum exposure? they're calling it an organized terror attack. It isn't just seattle. the entire country's fucked."

that's why the national guard got called in. that's why the national emergency siren was initiated. this is more serious than she anticipated.

her fingertips tremble as she thinks about her father. he's the front defense line against whatever this is. at any moment, he could be dead, and she would have never gotten to give him a last hug goodbye because she rushed off with mason. the guilt would pick at her for the rest of her life.

she also reaches for her cellphone where she had left it in her jacket pocket, hoping to ask for a charger, but when she feels for it, there's nothing there. a sinking feeling befalls her and she wonders if it fell out during the semi incident. they ran off; she wouldn't have thought to check for it. 

It dampens her mood, the thought of losing connection to her dad and everything of mason she'd lost with her phone. if he tries to contact her, she wouldn't know.

elowen walks to the window, letting her fingertips touch the cold glass. she sees cars littered haphazardly and left abandoned at intersections. she watches the tiny silhouettes of people running, terrorized, through the streets just as she was not too long ago. distantly, she can hear the pleas for help. the sounds of anguish. that fucking dog still barking in the backyard.

then suddenly, there's a strained whine. and then it stops.

a tear stings at her eye but she doesn't will itself to fall.

"It's...corpse, by the way," his voice startles her, and she drops her hand from the glass and tunes out all the noise. 

"what?" she isn't sure she heard him correctly. 

"my name is corpse."

he's standing a foot away when she faces him, and she tries to hide her perplexed expression. she doesn't think it best to question. "I'm elowen," she reciprocates.

first name basis. her brain is riddled with so many more questions for him but she deems this enough for now. whether or not trusting him is the right decision, the decision has been made. she's here, after all.