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The gang couldn't tell time anymore; none of them had cared enough to draw up a calendar or keep track of the days. Without the sun to come or go, the endless night became their only reality, and time became useless to them. And without food, they felt too hopeless to give that any of their attention. Instead, they let the endless night swim around their heads like the god that it was, making its own rules and forcing them to play along.

They could assume that about two weeks had passed since their arrival, though it felt more like years. They were seldom hygenic; they only showered when they felt compelled to solitude or when the smell got too bad. And they were all noticeably thinner--the well-fitted clothes they had arrived in now hung around their bodies like morose reminders of what used to fill them--and now food seemed to be everything that any of them ever thought about. They tried not to talk about it, though, because it was hopeless and they already wanted to escape their thoughts.

Everyone had fallen asleep as Sasha rolled out of bed slowly, making sure not to wake Kevin. In the vacuum of darkness, she had to slide across the floor to avoid stepping on Geo, who was somewhere asleep on the carpet floor.

Sasha found the coated glaze of the wooden door and pushed it open slowly, her head projecting closer as the crack grew wider. She felt a sudden chill move in her, and for a moment contemplated going back to bed.

She couldn't. She was too thirsty.

At least, Sasha acknowledged, they had water. It wasn't food, but it was something to fill their bellies and she was grateful for that. Her stomach growled in agreement as she made her way into the upstairs corridor. She could see the only window to the far left wall spitting blue light into the room. As she turned to close the door, her body tensed up as the room across from her began to open. It was Winston's room.

"Hello? Winston?" she whispered in the vulgar darkness.

"It's me," Winston's voice said, his shadow bobbing into the corridor.

Sasha sighed in relief and clutched at her skirt instinctively. For some odd reason, she was afraid she hadn't been wearing any clothes. Sleep deprivation, she supposed. None of them were thinking clearly anymore.

"Where are you going?" he asked, stepping closer into that blue light. His hair was licked by the pillow and unfixed, his glasses off.

"I'm going to drink. My stomach wouldn't let me sleep."

Winston made a repulsed sound. "I can't even drink lately. I've been throwing up water every day." He felt immediate regret at telling her that, and regret tried to clutch at the spoken words.

She made a scoffing sound. "I understand." The words came out light-hearted, but deep down they were both very, very sad. And very, very afraid.

"Can I walk you to the kitchen?" Winston said. "I don't want you going down there alone."

"Yes, please." She smiled. "I'm glad you're awake. You always seem to be the only one awake when I need it most."

They were the words Winston wanted to hear, but at the same time he felt his body wince with anger at them. Kevin had Sasha's affection because he didn't try. He didn't need to. And in turn that made him irresistible to her. It was lunacy, but it was the way of the world. And even this house couldn't change that; if anything, this house made that law thicker and truer.

They made their way downstairs, hearing a low crunch when they stepped over fragments of the broken banister. It was amazing to Winston that the human eye could adjust so steeply to the darkness if in it long enough. He thought of Alaska's thirty days of night and the absurd darkness almost felt normal. But that was where the similarities ended, because Alaska didn't have demons wearing the darkness around their bodies like bear skin.

Survive the NightOnde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora