Too bad I fucking hate men.

Despite his appearance and supposed good deeds, I had heard a lot of rumors about him over the years, almost none of them good. But in the end, my curiosity got the better of me, and I tossed a copy of the paper onto the counter with my clothes to read later.

I paid for the items and then retreated to the shop's public restroom to change and bandage my wound. I stripped down to my black undergarments, tossing my old clothes straight into the trash, after removing my Slurp case from the inner pocket of the vest and placing it in my new shorts.

I washed up in the sink as well as I could. The fresh cool water flowing over my skin while I had Slurp in my system was threatening to send me into sensory overload. I was torn out of my trance by a knock on the bathroom door.

"Just a minute!" I screamed out. I had hoped to have more time to inspect my wound, but instead I just wrapped it as best I could and threw on my new clothes. I caught sight of myself in the mirror, letting out a scoff as I saw the lettering on my tank: "I Survived a Shark Attack in Sweaty Sands."

Typical tourist bullshit. At least it didn't become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I grabbed my bag of snacks and exited swiftly, on the way out bumping into the shoulder of the lady who knocked, causing her to grumble.

I once again retreated to a back alley, leaning up against the wall. I glanced upward toward the moon again, noticing that it was now obscured by clouds.

"Shit," I mumbled, hoping it wasn't a sign that a storm was imminent. I had to find shelter.

I figured the best thing to do would be to get out of town. The more people that saw my face, the less likely I was to survive this.

I turned to head out of the alley when I saw something that made me stop in my tracks. There hanging on the brick wall was a poster, and on it were written the words "JOIN SHADOW."

They were recruiting.

I gaped at the poster for what felt like an eternity before sheer rage consumed my body. I tore it from the wall and began ripping it into as many small pieces as possible. I would have set it on fire had I been carrying a lighter.

I found a dumpster and tossed the remnants in, pausing a second to lean on the side and catch my breath. I need to let this serve as a reminder that I am in imminent danger. Shadow was not an organization to be fucked with, and they didn't take kindly to people who "opted out," if you will. Particularly in the dramatic way I chose to do so.

They would be hunting me. Probably already were. As far as I knew, nobody had ever escaped and lived very long to tell about it.

I collected my bag and started to walk, heading away from the bustling boardwalk. I needed a place to lay low for a few days, at least. So far all I could see were a few rental properties and hotels, which I'm sure were all full of tourists, and a completely booked up RV park. I had to go farther out.

I crossed a grassy field, heading up over a hill. I suddenly felt a twinge of pain in my side.

GODDAMMIT, I knew I didn't drink enough Slurp to last very long.

I was going to have to crash soon. Up ahead I could see a small house, which at first seemed like just another rental property, but as I got closer I could see how dilapidated it was.

This will have to do.

I creaked open the door a couple of inches and peeked inside. It definitely hadn't been used in quite a long time. There were multiple holes in the roof, and dust covered what furniture remained. Outside one window I could see a pond that had turned putrid from algae. I caught a scent of it on the breeze and almost gagged.

I closed the door that I initially came through and sat in the corner of the floor in the main room. I reached into my bag, pulling out a bottle of water that I then opened and drained immediately.

Nectar of the Goddesses.

I knew I should probably ration, but I also knew that when I came down from my high, the hangover would be much worse if I were dehydrated.

The roof directly above where I was sitting seemed to be intact. I walked over to a chair in a different part of the room and grabbed the cushion, flipping it over to the side that was less dusty. I probably could have curled up in the chair itself, but I thought my chances of getting eaten alive by mites and bedbugs were significantly less with minimal contact.

I placed the cushion in my original corner and lay down. I suddenly remembered the newspaper I bought earlier, pulling it out of my bag and unfolding it, using it as a makeshift blanket.

Maybe that rich asshole will be useful after all.

I could feel the exhaustion creeping up on me as my high wore off. I knew I should eat, and tend better to my wound, but any semblance of self control I had was beginning to wane the longer I sat still. I could deal with all of that in the morning.

I could hear thunder in the distance as I slipped into unconsciousness for the second time that day.

Redemption (Midas x Reader)Donde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora