Ichor And Steel

Chapter Twenty-Three; In lilacs she lay

Ship, The Notwist, Saya

After a while, nothing seemed too frightening anymore.

The winter enclave the valley was encapsulated in became an Eden once the sun rose, falling over the hills and paths with a luscious pink spill. Her skin thawed and eyelashes batted away snowy crust. Legs and back ached the same whilst her fingers didn't wake for a long while, even when she squeezed them under her armpits.

Rose yawned, having paced for a time, well into the morning at least. Every so often, she peered back, her hair making a frosty sound full of snow and ice debris as it rustled over her shoulder. Chris never came for her, and a darker corner of her conscious figured he just didn't care; this provoked all truth that she was just a weapon—a biological weapon. She had embarked on a solo mission and would complete said mission once she found a shard of her father; be that in death or life. Her fingers cinched the ends of Ethan's coat, rubbing the hems and lining and zipper, muttering to herself, "what would Ethan do?"

She came to an eventual circle, having lost all sense of direction back at some steel gates and feared she had trodden the same worn path thrice. Out here, there were only a scattering of smoky roof peaks, their brick facades creaking under a winter's breeze and making her jumpier. Rose ducked below skeletal branches and her sneakers stubbed toes with gravestones. It was just like home, back in New Orleans but here the sky was a heavy, dark grey looming with a few silent cackles of lightening. And no one grieved their losses; she quickly figured there was none more to weep over. Had the whimsical lords feasted on them all?

The small graveyard lacked any sign of life but the writhing snow and soil, as though bodies turned in their grave upon Rose's intrusion. She dusted aside streaks of hair that fell across her face and combed out all the snow, eyes nervously searching around. It was desolate, barren and bane ridden but that was just a sense, not a visual; it looked like any other graveyard. However, when the ground begun to move and wiggle, Rose became alarmed, and the caw of her own scream surprised her. It had been at least twenty-four hours without hearing another human speak and, briefly, she was stunned into a lie that there was someone else around.

Grey, decaying claws grappled for her little ankles and the teenager flailed, helplessly sprawling on the ground. Her heart shot up through her throat and her brain boggled inside her skull, trapping Rose within a daze. Emaciated figures growled atop of her, their drool dampened her parka which she hastily discarded in her efforts of escape. Her fleeing successfully drove her from what her silly mind thought were zombies and her legs flung her far into more foreign territory. In a skittish fashion, Rose dashed left and right before barrelling through a fence when another zombie came crawling up through the ground.

"Shitfuckyou!" she yipped, smashing her foot into its face. Beneath the force of her shoe, its jaw snapped, and teeth clattered. She broke into a crawl, legs having a struggle in retaining a solid footing, and with her elbows, foolishly hurled herself over a fence. Rose was blind to the chasm awaiting to engulf her and she plunged without realising it until—

thump!

In lilacs she fell to lay, skin whitening without the blood beneath it, pooling in rivers through her hair and scalp. Her fair pink lips wheezed a weak wisp into the air, eyes merely registering the height she'd come from. So much blood. She attempted a final stand, shakily rising from her palms. Blood, dribbling thickly. Rose crumpled, uncomfortably, and inhaled a mouthful of snow.

Atleast they weren't chasing her anymore.